Page 71 of His Lost Lycan Luna

I must admit, that is one thing I love about she-wolves. Their ability to become lost to their baser instincts makes them compliant. Although I don't want that from Ivy—I want her to challenge me, maybe because she is the only one that could get away with it.

However, looking at her, I doubt she ever will. Lycans are worse tempered, and sometimes I forget she's an ordinary werewolf. I should be gentler. Ivy isn't as durable as a Lycan. Despite how much she sometimes reminds me of a Lycan, instincts so similar, yet so far apart at the same time. I need to remember she isn't because I worry I will push her too far, or scare her beyond repair.

I wonder briefly what her wolf will be like, what color fur she will have. She has the most abnormal eyes for a werewolf. Every time I look at her, I get this bizarre feeling something is off about her.

Her deep, cerulean-blue eyes remind me of someone. I can't figure out why or who. Even a few guards and Damian have commented on how odd her eye coloring is.

Blue is an odd color for werewolves—Lycans not so much. It isn’t unheard of, but it is rare for werewolves to have those deep blue eyes. Sometimes genetic mutations or super strong bloodlines cause it in werewolves.

We'll find out soon enough. Maybe her father was human. That would explain why I can't sense her wolf side as much. Perhaps she doesn't have one.

No, that can't be it, because she can growl and purr. My thoughts run rampant as I watch her until I am pulled from them when I feel the mindlink open up.

"Are you awake, my King?" Gannon asks. I stare at the glass of whiskey in my hand before downing it.

"You know I am, or you wouldn't be asking," I reply as I get out of bed and wander over to the bar. I pour another glass, and the door to my room opens.

Damian and Gannon step in, averting their gazes from Ivy and looking at me. Damian walks over to the armchair and takes a seat in one of the armchairs while Gannon wanders toward her on the bed. I raise an eyebrow at him, but he only tosses the throw blanket over her back to cover her before taking a seat across from Damian. I hand them both a glass before retrieving my own.

"What is it?" I ask them, wanting to know why they suddenly decided on a midnight visit.

"I thought you were going to heal her?" Gannon asks, looking over at her sleeping.

"She fell asleep while eating," I answer. Anger courses through me at the thought of why she needs healing, though they're no longer gaping wounds across her back. Still, I hate seeing the angry red lines that litter her skin.

"Why did that stop you?" he asks.

"I would rather do it while she's awake. She needs to know not to fear me in that form."

Gannon nods in understanding, turning his attention back to me.

"So why the middle of the night invasion of my room?" I ask.

"Couldn't sleep," Damian answers.

"Me, neither," I tell him, and he chuckles.

"How many of those have you had?" he asks, pointing to my glass.

"A few too many," I shrug and his brows furrow with worry – a look I have seen plenty of times on his face.

"Are you sure that is wise with her around?" Damian questions.

"She isn't going anywhere, and I won't hurt her," I growl.

"I'm not worried about you hurting her, my King. I'm worried about you spooking her," Damian answers.

"I am fine," I answer while moving across the room to sit on the edge of the bed facing them.

"I assume you came to see me for a reason other than insomnia?"

"Yes, my King. We know we agreed to 6 am, but the men are antsy. This place is unfamiliar and too hard to keep watch over the entire perimeter," Gannon answers.

"You want to leave earlier?"

They both nod their heads, looking at Ivy on the bed behind me.

"You doubt my ability to keep her safe?" I ask them.

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