Page 40 of His Loved Lycan Luna

“You know where my room is, right? Wake me if you need me. You also have my number on the phone; just press number three, speed dials straight to my phone.”

I nod, wondering if the lack of sleep is making him paranoid. He sighs, kissing my forehead and hugging me, something he has never done. “Don’t let yourself be alone with him,” he whispers before leaving after I nod. I watch him leave, still wondering why he feels so strongly about Trey.

Chapter Twenty-Six

Ihave no idea what came over me; I almost attacked her. Her heat is still intense despite her no longer suffering its effects. I didn’t mean to snap at her, but I would have bent her over my desk if she didn’t leave. It takes twenty minutes before I calm down enough to shift back. Back in my human form, I snatch the bottle of whiskey off the lamp table and swig from it.

“You idiot, are you trying to get yourself killed!” I snap at Damian.

“I’m sorry, I thought you had control, or I wouldn’t have grabbed her.”

I click my tongue and curse, shaking my head while tipping the bottle to my lips.

“Just let me explain to her,” Damian says, and I shake my head.

“No, I want her to give herself to me when she wants to, not because she feels forced because my life is at risk,” I tell him.

“Kyson?”

“The injection only lasts two days. We have some leeway. Azalea will change her mind,” I tell him, not sosure whether she will.

“And if she doesn’t?”

I bite the inside of my lip. “She will.”

“If she doesn’t, I’ll tell her,” Damian snarls, and I growl at him.

“You die, then what? You let her live with that guilt. No one can protect her the way you do, Kyson. Think this through.”

“I don’t want her to feel obligated to mate with me,” I tell him.

“And I won’t let you die, and neither will she!” he snaps. Damian tosses me some pants and a shirt. Realizing I’m still naked I take them, slipping them on and doing up the buttons.

“We should leave. I want to get back before tomorrow.”

“We shouldn’t go, not while you’re like this…”

“And that is precisely why we are going. I am struggling to hold myself back. Now grab the keys. We are leaving,” I tell him, seizing my wallet off the desk and stuffing it into my pocket. I push the doors open and walk out toward the front of the castle. I need to get away from her for a little while, just until I get these urges under control.

However, when I reach the door, I stumble, vertigo washing over me, and the room tilts and slants, making me stumble. My hand goes out, catching myself on the wall as my vision begins to tunnel. “Kyson?” Damian worries.

A cold sweat causes sweat to bead on the back of my neck. Thankfully, Damian grips my upper arm, I blink, trying to force the effects away.

“We should stay,” he murmurs, but I shake his hand off. “I’m fine, we will be gone only twelve hours max, plenty of time, and by the time we get back, the medication should be nearly worn off,” I tell him. Damian growls disapprovingly but says nothing as we walk out.

“Gannon is on his way back. He should be here before we get back,” Damian assures me.

An hour has passed when I hear a knock on the door. I look toward it before hearing the handle twist, but they do not open it.

“My Queen?” Trey calls out from the other side of the door. I stick my lip between my teeth as I get to my feet and walk over to the door. I twist the lock and crack it open to peer out the door.

“Clarice said to bring you down to have afternoon tea. The king doesn’t trust anyone to bring your food to you, so you will sit with Clarice,” Trey tells me, and I nod, slipping out the door. I follow behind him as he leads me toward the kitchen. Once I step in, I see Clarice has some sandwiches made and she smiles warmly at me before wiping her hands on her blue apron.

“I have got everything out. You can see it all sealed,” she says, pointing to the jams and spreads, and I nod before grabbing a butter knife. Clarice hands Trey a salad sandwich while I make myself a jam one.

“I know the jam is probably not what you had in mind, but Kyson doesn’t want you eating anything unless he or Damian prepared it,” Clarice tells me, and I nod before taking a bite of my sandwich. I start packing the spread and bread away while Clarice fusses that I shouldn’t be cleaning. I ignore her before we all stand in awkward silence. Clarice continues to glance at Trey, and so do I after what Dustin told me. He must have noticed the tension because he swallows down a bite of the sandwich Clarice made him.

“What? Do I have food on my face?”

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