Page 71 of His Loved Lycan Luna

I roll my eyes and wave him forward, and he straightens himself again like some prim and proper gentleman, though he is a gentleman, either way, sober or drunk. When I think of it, I think his question is correct. I have yet to see him sober since Claire. It makes me briefly wonder if he can function without the liquor, although I know I have a drinking problem, so I can’t really judge.

“What are you proposing?” I ask.

“Well, you still have to go away, My King, to investigate the killings, and I would rather stay behind. I am sick of looking at dead little ones; Uncle Liam is not made for the kiddie horrors, so I volunteer to watch the queen, with Dustin, of course,” Liam says, motioning toward Dustin and sending him a wink. Dustin shakes his head with a snort.

“You want Trey to take your place on my guard?” I ask.

“But I was the Queen’s guard…”

I hold my hand up, shutting off Trey’s protests when Liam stares at me, his eyes glazing over before his voice is in my head.

‘You already know how I feel about the ferret. Dustin is clear about his feelings. What better way to catch a rat than having him by your side, My King? Azalea is safe with me; I don’t care if he is from Landeena. He is hiding something. His switch from hating her toalmost stalking her is too sudden, but if I remember correctly, Trey is not under the guard pact!’ Liam says, making me furrow my brows once more.

I glance at Damian, trying to remember when I set the pact, but Liam is right. It was after the fall of King Garret and Queen Tatiana and just before the death of my sister. Trey got here just after her end and earned his way up the ranks.

‘What is it?’Damian mindlinks.

‘Ask Clarice if Trey was there when Azalea’s food was tampered with,’I ask him, and he nods, walking off down the stairs.

Turning my attention to Trey and Dustin, I see they’re still glaring at each other.

“Trey, you’re swapping with Liam. Liam will be on guard with you, Dustin,” I tell him, and Dustin nods, heading up the stairs to my room.

“He is a fucking drunk!” Trey accuses, glaring at Liam. I blink, only to find Trey shoved against the wall, Liam’s hand around his throat, and a knife under his chin.

“Watch it, boy, or I will be wearing your skin as a suit. So I’d watch your tongue, talk about me like that again, and I will remove it for you, one of the king’s guards or not. I will show you what a drunk can do and what a pretty suit you would make,” Liam warns, tapping the side of Trey’s face with his knife. Trey swallows and nods quickly.

Liam growls before shoving off him and walking up the steps to his post, while Trey presses his lips in a line, looking away.

“5 AM. We leave in the morning. Be ready,” I tell Trey before turning on my heel.

“Yes, My King,” I hear him answer before walking off. When I reach the top level, Dustin nods at me. I press my lips in a line, turning to face him.

“You are not off the hook. Unfortunately, my punishment for you.”

“I think putting up with me would be punishment enough, don’tyou think, My King,” Liam chuckles. I click my tongue, turning back to Dustin.

“It is yet to be decided. Don’t fuck up again.”

“I won’t, My King,” Dustin says, and I nod to them, pushing the door open and going to find my mate. Azalea is sitting on the floor by the fireplace, playing with her tablet and an open book.

“Did you eat?” I ask her, and she nods, pointing to the empty tray on the dresser without looking up from the tablet she was typing away on. I sigh, walking over and grabbing it. Opening the door, I go to hand it to Liam when I notice the pill still sitting on the tray. My heart races a little faster, seeing it sitting beside her empty plate.

“Azalea?” I ask, glancing over my shoulder at her. She peers up from where she is sitting on the floor to stare at me.

“Did you mean to leave that on the tray?” I ask her. She scratches her neck, and I can feel her worry through the bond, and she grows nervous. She is scared of answering but does.

“You said it was my choice. I don’t want to take it,” she says, biting her lip, her eyes on the tray in my hand.

“Liam!” I tell him, and he takes the tray, shutting the door. A giddy feeling rushes through me, knowing she wants kids.

“You know what that means, right?” I ask, walking over to her.

“That I could get pregnant,” Azalea answers and shrugs. “But I also might not be pregnant, so we’ll see.”

I stop beside her, and she stares up at me.

“Are you angry?” she asks.

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