Page 41 of His Lost Lycan Luna

"No, say it," the King growls.

"I understand," I whisper.

"No, say it. Say, I won't hurt you."

"You won't hurt me," I sputter out, turning my face away from his angry gaze. Only his fingers on my chin turn my face back to his.

"I won't hurt you. I don't want to hurt you. Therefore, I won't," the King tells me. He may not want to hurt me right now, but that can change. It always changes.

He studies me for a second. His hand moves back to my face. His thumb brushes over my lips again before he tugs the bottom one down.

"Um, sir...?"

He smiles as if my awkwardness amuses him in some way.

"Kyson," he murmurs. His eyes flick to mine for a second, yet his thumb keeps playing with my bottom lip. He settles his weight back on top of me, and my breath lodges in my throat like a ball threatening to choke me to death.

"I have to leave the castle tomorrow. I need to go to a nearby kingdom. Damian and Gannon will remain here with you unless you want to come with me," the King says.

Are there more kingdoms nearby here?I wonder.

"I thought you were the last Lycan Royal?" I ask without thinking. He smiles back at me.

"There is that voice. You can ask me anything, Ivy. I like your questions, and I like hearing your voice." I swallow. The King laughs softly, his chest rumbling against mine.

"It reminds me that you are still breathing," he laughs again. Wow, even the King is aware of my brain cells that randomly die in his presence.

"And yes, I am the Last Lycan Royal. Damian and Gannon don't want me to leave the castle since the rebellion has risen from the shadows again. However, we need to go back to the old crime scene. The castle I will be visiting used to belong to the last fallen King and Queen."

A memory tinkers in the back of my mind, pulling me back to a time I try not to remember... A time I wish I'd forgotten. Before I know it, the room fades as the memory surges back in.

* * *

We were camped out by a stream. The night was warm and still. The air was heavy with humidity, and the stars twinkled in the dark night sky. The sound of the stream rushing down toward the waterfall drowned out the sound of the crickets. I remember that night so vividly, from the breeze in my hair to the smell of damp earth and wildflowers that filled the air. The moon shone bright, casting a gentle glow over the area and illuminating the trees and grass. Abbie and I, just two young girls, had been lying on the grass under an old oak tree, our feet on the trunk. My mother and Abbie’s mother, Lina, sat around the fire, talking softly when Abbie suggested we dip our feet in the water. Abbie and I both got up to wade our feet through the water. I hummed to a tune. I have no memory of where I heard it, but it always brought comfort to me for some reason.

"Girls, not too close to the water. It is deeper than it looks," my mother scolded.

I peered over my shoulder to my mother who was suddenly on her feet, alert. She always panicked when either of us came too close to the river. Neither of us could swim a stroke to save our lives. I nearly drowned once when we were on the run; I sank straight to the bottom like a stone. My father pulled me out, but it has made me wary of water since. We turned back and moved closer to the edge when a sound startled me.

I looked back to the river when a noise sounded among the trees, and her startled expression went to both of us. My father burst through the trees looking terrified. I had never seen him so scared. He was typically the stoic one.

His eyes scanned the area frantically, looking pale as though he’d seen a ghost. His hair was wet, and he was sweating when the cloying scent of wolfsbane reached my nose. He was drenched in blood, and he had an arrow sticking out of his shoulder. Seeing his pain-stricken face was like something out of a nightmare. Every alarm bell in my brain sounded. My mother rushed over to him, her face contorted with worry.

"What happened?" she demanded to know as she quickly broke the arrow, leaving the point in his shoulder. She tried to pull it out, but my father stopped her, telling her we didn't have time.

"We need to run." His eyes scanned all of us when the sound of shouting in the distance drew closer.

"Dad?" Abbie questioned, and I looked for him. Where was he?

"Run!" he bellowed as he ran straight toward me. My mother grabbed Lina, Abbie’s mother's hand, and yanked her up.

"It’s the King’s guard! They have found us! They have come for..."

"For what?" I had asked as my father gripped me around the waist and jumped into the water, swimming to the other side. Lina had Abbie, who was screaming for her father, but Lina said nothing as she swam across;.

"Why are they chasing us?" I asked, scared when something burst from the trees with savage snarls.

"Because of King Garret and Queen Tatiana. Now run! Don’t stop, don't look back, run!" my father growled.

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