Page 24 of His Found Lycan Luna

“Yes, My King, but Ivy,” he starts.

“Do not speak her name,” I bellow, tossing my glass across the room. It explodes, smashing against the brickwork around the fireplace. The glass shatters everywhere. Gannon, who is used to my anger, doesn’t flinch. However, I feel as though I am on the verge of exploding. He would run then; they all would.

“As I was saying, she has not left the closet in two days. No one can get into her room or near her, not even Abbie. She hasn’t eaten, and her fretting is getting worse,” Gannon says, ignoring me.

“Not my problem. I let her back into the castle. Tell Damian to deal with her,” I snap, annoyed at their worry for her. She is a traitor’s daughter.

“My King… your queen…”

“She is not my queen or your queen; she never will be,” I snarl. Anger is the only thing keeping me alive.

Gannon growls before turning and stalking out. My shoulders sag as he leaves, and I clench my hand, my fingers aching before opening the mindlink.

‘Dustin, have the car ready. You drive with me today,’I tell him.

‘My king, Beta Damian usually…’

‘I said you drive with me, send a maid in to clean up the glass in my room,’I tell him, cutting him off.

‘Yes, my King,’he says, and I cut off the link. After retrieving my wallet and phone, I grab my jacket before leaving the room and heading downstairs. I toss my jacket to Dustin, who catches it, placing it over his arm. When I walk downstairs, I hear Clarice and Abbie excitedly talking about something, and Abbie is glowing vibrantly and nearly bouncing on the spot.

The groceries in her arms nearly topple out of the basket she carries. Clarice tries to get her to contain her excitement over whatever it is that has her bouncing with joy.

They cut off abruptly, noticing me, and Abbie bows respectably, bearing her neck to me. Gannon stands off near the doors, glaring angrily at the wall.

I step past them, heading out. The sun is setting, and I’m eager to get to town before nightfall. Despite all the pain, I’m still driven to put a stop to those killing rogue children and their families. Gannon follows me silently; his brewing anger behind me only makes the throbbing in my hand worse, bringing the pulse in my hand back to the forefront of my mind and fueling my anger more.

Clarice catches up to me with a duffle bag, obviously having escaped the gushing Abbie.

“For fuck’s sake, can someone send a doctor to look at her fucking hand?” I snap before twisting and punching the stone wall.

Pain flares up my arm, and Clarice drops the bag in her hands. My anger diffuses, and my burning hatred dissolves as my Lycan side settles. It’s becoming too much. Gannon’s mood also changes, and Clarice stands quivering beside me. Eventually, I sigh, dropping my aura, unsure of what came over me.

“No one can get close to her. We’ve tried, My King,” Clarice murmurs. Her voice trembles, and I glance at the woman. Her face is pale from the fright I’ve just given her.

My knuckles bleed, and I ball my hand into a fist as though I’m ready to fight. The dull throbbing is driving me insane. The fact she’s not allowing anyone in is pissing me off. Does she not know I can fucking feel it? Is she doing this to annoy me?

Days I’ve been complaining and asking them to tend to her. With a snarl, I turn and stalk off toward my old chambers when Gannon’s hand falls on my shoulder, and I stop, turn my head, and glare at him.

“Mind your place, Gannon,” I warn.

“Your intentions first, My King,” he says, clenchinghis jaw. The man is tempting my rage to come forth again. They’re all pushing me to my limits.

They know they’re no match but would die trying, and for her, their rogue fucking queen I haven’t even marked. Complete idiocy on my part, making them swear to that pact it would override me every damn time, but they would never be a match for the beast that lives in me.

No one is a match for the Lycan King. They know it, too, and I know they would die for her, no matter who brought them their demise.

I keep walking, Gannon’s hand falling from my shoulder as I stalk toward the castle entrance.

“My King,” Gannon calls.

“Kyson,” he bellows, but I ignore him, stalking up the steps before turning in the opposite direction of my quarters to go to my old room.

Gannon jogs to keep up with my long strides as I hunt her down before approaching the double doors leading into the room. I shove them open, and Gannon tries to grab me. I turn and growl, my aura slamming into him and stunning him.

“Out!” I order. The command grips him instantly. They may have the pact to uphold, but they can’t fight a direct command. I slam the doors as he stands stunned, unable to cross the threshold.

Turning around to face the room, I notice it’s completely dark. The curtains are closed, and I reach over and flick on the light. I’m completely shocked at the state of the room. The mattress is torn to shreds; the linens are shredded. Plates sit by the door, still full, like they merely slid the trays through the gap. The stench is horrendous from the rotting food, and I gag before picking up the trays and opening the door. I thrust them toward Gannon, who takes them looking disgusted.

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