Page 70 of His Lost Lycan Luna

"What is it?" I ask him.

"Nothing, just you already have canines. It sometimes happens with werewolves, and they won't extend fully until you shift, but are you sure your birthday is a couple of weeks away?"

"I think so," I tell him.

"Strange, though not unheard of. Just, usually they come down a couple of days before a shift, not weeks before, unless you’re Lycan. Mine were always longer than werewolves' or human teeth," he shrugs.

"Something is wrong with my teeth?" I ask, touching them with my finger. They feel the same as always, no different, and surely, I would notice. Wouldn't my speech change?

"No, nothing is wrong with them. They just look a little more extended than normal. That's why I asked about your birthday."

I shrug, unsure. Mom said it was on that day, and she would have known.

"Want to hear something funny?" he asks. I raise an eyebrow at him but nod.

"Lycans are born with their canines. My baby photos look pretty funny," he chuckles. I laugh; that would look funny.

"We should eat. Our food is probably cold, and we have to be up early to get to the castle by lunchtime."

"Did you know the King and Queen well?" I ask, changing the subject.

"Kind of. They kept to themselves mostly. My parents were close to them. When I was a child, my parents had an arrangement with theirs," he answers.

"What sort of arrangement?” I ask.

"A marriage one. If they had a daughter, she was to be promised to me when she came of age, to help keep the royal bloodlines strong. But that went down the drain, obviously."

"Were you upset?"

He shrugs. "No, not really. I didn't know her. They kept her a secret, paranoid about the hunters finding out about her. Plus, I would have had to wait years anyway, but I am not sure I would have gone through with it if she said no."

"Why's that?"

"Because my parents had an arranged marriage. My mother disagreed at first," he tells me.

"Your parents didn't like each other?"

"No, they loved each other, but at first, no – not until my father marked her. I just wanted to try to find my mate first."

"What happened to the girl?" I ask.

"They killed her. We found her blood-stained clothes and some of her hair. Since half the kingdom was slaughtered along with them, we couldn't exactly be sure which child she was, and also not knowing exactly how old she was didn't help us. We only had the clothes to go off for approximate size, and so many kids turned up in the river." He shakes his head at the memory, which obviously stayed with him all these years because I can see it haunts him still.

" And if she lived?" I ask curiously.

"I probably would have given her to my sister to raise. It would be awkward raising my future mate, don't you think?" he laughs.

"Yes, that would certainly be different," I chuckle.

ChapterForty-Two

KYSON

Ivy's scent perfumes the room and calms my nerves, which is the only thing keeping me sane right now. Tomorrow is my sister's murder anniversary, so I am on edge. Ivy is unaware that I am watching her.

No matter how much I try to pry my eyes from her sleeping form tangled in the sheets, my eyes always drift back to her or I find myself standing over her, fighting the urge to touch her, caress her.

My senses are all over the place with her. The desire to mark her grows stronger with the bond as it forges. I can tell Ivy is just as affected by the way her arousal will fill my nose, her instincts pulling her closer while they wage war with her mind telling her to stay away.

---