Page 67 of His Fierce Lycan Luna

Letting out a sigh of frustration, I set aside the book I have been reading to her and make my way to the bathroom. I fill the bathtub with bubbles and lavender-scented soap, crinkling my nose at the fragrance that I know she likes. Returning to the room, I retrieve one of my shirts from the closet. She is still dressed in that hospital gown, but I am determined to change that today. Baby steps.

Perhaps if I can get her to eat or speak, she will feel more like herself. Equipped with towels and a shirt for her, I check the water and wait for the tub to fill before turning off the faucet. Stepping into the room, I find her in the same spot as before, tangled in blankets.

With care, I untangle her from the fabric and lift her up, removing her gown as she sits on the edge of the bed. Goosebumps cover her skin, prompting me to strip off my ownclothes before joining her in the bath. I settle her between my legs, and she remains motionless as I wash her hair and clean her gently.

We stay in the water until it turns cold, and then I lift her out, drying her off before slipping my shirt over her head. But it angers me when she simply rolls back into her den without any order or structure. Clarice has sent up soup hoping to entice her to eat but Azalea only rolls over in response.

Reaching for my whiskey, I take a swig straight from the bottle. It is the only thing that keeps me from losing my damn mind. The silence is suffocating, and absence of any sensation through bond is unbearable. I long for any reaction from her just to know that she is still with me.

My frustration grows as I glare at the disheveled den that obscures her from view, hiding her beneath layers of blankets. In a fit of anger, I accidentally drop the bottle, shattering it on the floor. I snarl at the mess I have made. Overwhelmed by my anger, I can’t contain the shift any longer. I storm towards the bed, tearing at her den in a futile attempt to fix it. Instead, all I manage to do is tear apart the mattress. Growling with frustration, I collapse onto the bed. Just as I’m about to mindlink Damian to call Doc again, I feel movement on the bed, followed by her hand running across my fur and settling on my chest as she lays her head against me.

At first I am astonished, staring down at her in disbelief. It’s the first time she has moved towards me since this ordeal began, and of course, it has to be when I’m not in human form. Part of me wants to shift back and revel in her closeness, but I don’t want to risk her pulling away if she realizes what she has done. Turning my face towards her, I nuzzle her hair and let my calling wash over her. She snuggles closer, and with a sigh, I accept that it’s something even if it isn’t much.

A few hours later, she wakes up prompting me to shift back into human form. Immediately, she retreats back under the covers. In the following days, I notice that she only seeks my presence when I’m in my shifted state. It seems that being in my Lycan form provides her with some comfort. So, I spend most of my time in this state hoping to provide her with some sense of security.

As a knock sounds at the door, I move away from the bed. Today Azalea has mustered enough strength to help me fix her den. We change the sheets and tidy it up although she doesn’t rebuild it like I had hoped. I had grown accustomed to its presence even though it’s an odd habit for female Lycans. Nevertheless, I miss curling up in it with her.

Liam enters with strips of raw meat and cubed cheese and crackers that Clarice had sent up.

“Is she still the same?” Liam asks, and I nod wearily. It has been over a week, and still, she hasn’t eaten. She is losing weight rapidly. This time, I’ve struggled lately every time I’ve attempted to make her eat while in my shifted form. The claws make it difficult, but she seems more at ease when I am in this state.

“I’ve been thinking,” Liam says as I turn away from him. I pause and glance back at him.

“About what?” I reply, not wanting to entertain any thoughts about Peter or theories at this moment. My focus is solely on Azalea. Peter is locked away in the cells, and I will deal with him when the time is right.

‘About why she only goes near you when you’re shifted,’he states, opening up the mindlink between us.

‘You can’t mate with her,’Liam continues, and a growl rumbles in my throat. I look back towards the bed before turning my attention back to Liam.

‘Something to consider,’Liam says, leaving the room. I remain by the bed, propping Azalea up with pillows so she cansit comfortably. Accidentally, my claws nick her arm, causing her to flinch. Leaning down, I place a gentle kiss on the spot where I have broken the skin, watching as it heals before my eyes.

“Sorry,” I murmur to her, but she remains silent, her gaze fixed on me. I pick up a strip of beef with my claws, only to fumble and drop it. Frustrated, I try again, but the same result occurs. She then reaches out and picks it up herself, her movements robotic and detached.

She eats half of what is on the plate despite my insistence that she eat more. Eventually, I set the plate aside and lay back down with her, eventually drifting off to sleep. It feels like all we do is sleep and read, and it feels wrong.

I long to hear her voice again. However, it is Trey’s conversation with Abbie outside the doors that rouses me from my slumber. I quickly rise to my feet and catch sight of the fading sunlight through the windows. The children are playing on the hill; their laughter fills the air. As I make my way towards the door, a flicker of hope ignites within me. Perhaps Abbie can coax Azalea out of bed.

But as I open the door, reality sets in. Abbie can’t help; she is still under her command. She stands outside, talking with Trey about how Azalea is doing. Liam is nowhere in sight, presumably having taken over guard duty of Peter. I half-expected Peter’s grandparents to come searching for him, but no one had arrived or informed me otherwise.

Tyson is perched on her hip, playing with her hair as I open the door. She gasps, peering out the window at the children playing on the hill. A brawl starts outside amongst some of the older children. She thrusts Tyson at Trey, rushing down the steps to break it up. I watch from the window while Trey holds Tyson.

“Maybe go help her,” I suggest, seeing her and Clarice both struggling to separate the kids that are determined to get the last hit in. Trey sighs, passing Tyson to me and rushing toward the stairs.

“Wait!” I call, and he stops on the steps. “Take the boy with you,” I tell him, holding him at arm’s length.

“You want me to help or not,” Trey says, and I look out the window to see guards trying to help and sigh.

“Just don’t take too long,” I tell him, and he nods before disappearing. I perch the boy on my hip. Tyson is only small, tugging on my fur when he starts making strange grunting noises before wailing like he is being murdered and pointing toward the room.

“No, we can’t go in there,” I tell him as he starts wailing and thrashing in my arms. He kicks me in the balls, making me drop him, but I catch him before he hits the ground, setting him down gently. He rushes off, and my eyes widen in horror as I turn to find him in our room. Unsure how Azalea will react to him, I rush in. He is screeching and fisting air.

“What?” I ask him, trying to hush him while glancing nervously at the bed where Azalea is. She doesn’t seem to hear him or doesn’t care; I’m not sure. He screeches and grunts again.

“I don’t know what you want,” I tell him, trying to pick him up and remove him from the room. I shush him and peer out the window for Abbie who is scolding some of the kids.

“Your mother will be back soon,” I tell him. He grunts, fisting his hands and squeezing them tightly.

“He wants the books,” Azalea says, and I jump, looking at the bed where she’s still sitting. Tyson also jumps at the sound of her voice and peers over at her. I set him down when he starts kicking his legs and moving towards the bookshelf. I point to each book when he goes crazy, grunting as I touch one with a picture of an apple on the side -Snow White.

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