Page 6 of Saved By The King's Gamma

Then Abbie came along. I didn’t want her screams; I wanted her. I wanted her love, and I had never wanted another woman since Sia and was content forever to be alone. But Abbie stirs feelings I thought I was no longer capable of. From the moment she came into my quarters accidentally, an obsession was born, one in which I wasn’t sure was healthy but still better than the void I have felt before she came into my life.

“So, we are going back for that headmistress?” Liam finally asks, something he doesn’t do frequently. I glance over at the man, surprised he asked anything at all. He has a massive scar down one side of his face that goes from his hairline to his chin, though it is barely visible. Liam is almost blind in that eye, which is funny considering he is our best gunman. Not that we have much use for guns, but they made things easier than risking the king when he travels.

Like the rest of us Lycan men, he appears to be in his mid-thirties.

“Her and another,” I answer him as he unrolls his knife pouch—no doubt to make sure he has all his trusty knives. The man has a knife fetish.

“Who else?” he asks as he runs his thumb down the blade, letting it slice him— testing its sharpness.

“The butcher when we find out who he is.”

“A butcher?” he snorts. “Well, that is interesting. I wonder how he will feel when he realizes it will be his meat you’re cutting into.” He glances at me with a smirk.

“So the Alpha and his mutt son know we are coming?” Liam asks.

“Nope, but I have the paperwork if they kick up a fuss.”

“To bring him in?” he asks, I snort and smile. He knows if I’m hunting, and he is with me, this isn’t a catch and release mission.

“Well, I suppose they wouldn’t have sent you if it was as simple as taking them in,” he says, rolling the pouch back up.

“So, what did he do to the king?” Liam asks.

“Not the king, to Abbie,” I explain, and he exhales, pushing his fringe from his eyes and turning in his chair to look at me.

“Ah, now I know why he sent us.”

Knowing all this just adds to the list of reasons why I need to get her back. And I will get her back even if I have to go behind Kyson’s back; I’m not losing her. For now, though, I will wait like he asks to see what he comes up with.

I know he will have to, for Ivy. I heard the call go out earlier in the night about her title change, but I am used to calling her Ivy. The king likes to pretend he is in control, but I know he would allow her anything she requested if she batted her eyelashes at him. She will learn he is putty in her hands. She just needs to recognize that, which is precisely why I let it slip about Abbie. Kyson can deny me, but he won’t deny her for long.

Going at Kyson headstrong won’t get her anywhere, but she has other ways to get what she wants. She just needs to come out of her shell and play on that, which I know Kyson is dreading when she figures that out.

He knows he is screwed when she does, especially with her bloodline. Landeenas were known to have certain gifts, so it will be interesting to see if she inherited any of those traits. She has her mother’s eyes, so hopefully, she will receive her mother’s abilities or will inherit her father’s. Or both? Only time will tell. But if she inherits either, she’ll be a force to reckon with. The Azures and Landeenas were the two original kingdoms, and they were not just kings and queens, they were so much more. Queen is not a title fit for Ivy, and when she realizes that, Kyson is in trouble.

“So, what did this butcher do?” Liam asks. I growl and he nods, as I cast him a warning look.

“Enough said,” he says. We spend the rest of the drive in silence. The long, windy roads are boring, and I pull over and swap with Liam when I feel myself nodding off. By the time we arrive, it is the early morning hours, the sun is just creeping above the trees of the sleepy town. A town I am about to wake with a monster’s screams.

4

Liam’s forceful smack against my chest jolts me awake, instantly alert as I catch sight of the town limits unfolding before us. “Orphanage first,” I command, and he nods, deftly steering the car toward our destination. Leaning over into the back seat, I extract my jacket from the bag, as a chill lingers in the morning air. We pull over in front of the dilapidated building.

The orphanage, a crumbling structure on the brink of condemnation, had been modified to accommodate the old hag’s wheelchair-bound existence after our last visit. Today, however, she will no longer need to fret about her future, for hers will come to an end.

Liam pulls over to the curb, and I step out of the car, closing the door with a gentle click. The children remain asleep, their absence evident in the stillness that permeates the premises. They are all tucked away in their beds. I effortlessly hop over the small brick fence that encloses the front yard, while Liam opens the trunk.

“No need for those,” I caution him, considering the presence of innocent children within these walls.

“Then why are we here?” he queries.

“Grabbing the old bat, getting a name and leaving,” I tell him, and he sighs but shuts the trunk. “I’m still bringing my knives just in case,” he mutters.

As I approach the entrance, I rap on the door, waiting in vain for a response. It is early; perhaps Mrs. Daley is the sole adult present. However, sneaking around to the back of the building, I discover the door has been left unlocked—an oversight on their part. Stepping inside, it is colder within the orphanage than it is outside.

“Fuck, it’s like the arctic in here,” Liam snarls.

“I presume she no longer occupies an upper-level room,” I remark, eyeing the worn spiral staircase.

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