Page 5 of His Found Lycan Luna

“You wish for anything but that. Do you hear me? I will not watch my queen die. I have buried enough of them,” she chokes out before letting me go, then leaving out. Abbie watches her go before gazing back at me.

“I wish I could stay to see you shift,” she says, and I nod, terrified of the thought of shifting with no one here, in a stable of all places, surrounded by hay and horses. I think I would have preferred being locked in my room at the orphanage, at least I’d have had Abbie.

“It’s not too bad. We have slept in worse places,” Abbie says, glancing around, trying to uplift my mood.

“I will speak to Beta Damian. Maybe he can convince the king to let me stay here with you, or I can try to sneak down,” Abbie says, and I shake my head.

“No, stay in the castle; you don’t need to be punished, too,” I tell her. Abbie stares at me confused, while chewing her lip.

She sighs heavily and glances around at the horses. “This isn’t how I pictured today being,” she admits.

“Well, I never pictured making it to this day at all,” I remind her and her eyes dart to me.

“More than my life,” she whispers, and I swallow.

“More than my life,” I return to her, and she lets out a relieved breath.

“Abbie, love, you need to go,” Gannon tells her, and I see her cheeks turn a little pink. I chuckle at Abbie, a silly smile on my lips. She doesn’t get flustered much, but just that one endearing word sent her crimson. She nods before standing and kissing my forehead.

“I will try to come back. If I don’t, I will tomorrow,” Abbie says, rushing back to the door. She looks up at Gannon as she passes him.

“I won’t leave her alone. Once she shifts, I will sneak her back into the castle,” Gannon tells her before reaching for a lock of herauburn hair. He twirls it around his finger and then clears his throat before nodding and letting her rush off. I raise an eyebrow at him.

“What, she’s pretty,” Gannon says, shaking his head like he just got caught doing something he shouldn’t.

“Yes, she is,” I tell him with a smile, and he blushes slightly, clearing his throat.

Chapter Three

The stable door groans open, and our steps are hesitant, our shadows flitting against the wooden walls of the stables when I find Ivy sitting on top of an old wine barrel that has been turned upside down.

The room, dense with the smell of hay and horses, suddenly feels tighter, more constricted when I see the saddened look on her face. They hadn’t told us what happened, only that we could go spend a few minutes with her and wish her happy birthday. I’m so confused… I thought we were safe here.

Gannon, whose gaze remains hardened, acknowledges our presence with a brief nod. He stands, his tall figure casting a long shadow, and murmurs a warning, “Don’t be long; I don’t want to be dragging you to the cells for disobeying the king.” His voice is cold and filled with anger. I have never seen him look angry.

Clarice, her fingers trembling slightly, is the first to approach Ivy. She holds a frosted cupcake as if it’s a lifeline. Yet, it’s Ivy’s gutted expression that draws me in. Her ebony hair, usually vibrant and full of life, lies limp against her pale skin. Her cerulean, blue eyes, usuallyshimmering with excitement at seeing me, are shadowed with despair and confusion.

“You’ve been baking,” Ivy asks me, and I glance down at my uniform.

Shaking my head, the weight of our predicament hits me anew. “No, I just spilled the bag on the counter before I came down here. Clarice made a cake for you,” I admit, my voice shaking. A cake, such a simple pleasure, feels out of place amidst the palpable tension.

It’s not just the cake or the stable, it’s the unspoken reality that binds us. The chains of servitude, of being mere pawns in a kingdom that’s never truly been ours. But for a split second, we both had hope we’d find home here. Ivy, despite being the king’s mate, is now condemned to these stables, away from the luxury of status she barely had a chance to grasp. Now if a queen has been placed here, what chance do I have, we have? We might have been better off with our fate decided by our old Alpha.

“Well, I had a cake made, but I couldn’t carry it down,” Clarice tells her sadly.

“You should have seen it, Ivy. Clarice did a good job. She spent all day making it. It’s so pretty, better than the ones we used to make at the orphanage, it…” I trail off before frowning.

“You enjoy it then,” Ivy smiles encouragingly, but that wouldn’t be the same thing without her, it was made for her.

“We can’t stay long; Gannon is right; the king is on the warpath, but I couldn’t let you go without wishing you happy birthday,” Clarice tells Ivy, placing the blue cupcake in her hand. I stare at the flickering flame. Ivy’s longing gaze drifts toward the blue cupcake as Clarice places a candle on it before lighting it, its tiny flame flickering brightly.

“Blow it out and make a wish,” Clarice tells her. Ivy blows the candle out without excitement or light in her eyes. I know she only does to please Clarice. I was so excited to help Clarice, and it was all for nothing. I smile sadly and kiss her knee, giving her hand a squeeze from where Isit beside her.

“What did you wish for?” Clarice asks, a teary smile on her face.

“I wished to be free,” Ivy tells her, and a choking whimper leaves my lips.

Such a simple wish, laden with so many complex emotions. The pain of our shared history as slaves, the injustice of it all, wells up. “Don’t,” I choke out, tears threatening hearing her speak those words.

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