His Lost Lycan Luna (Kyson and Ivy)

Kyson POV I watched her leave the room. I expected more from this girl, and I felt like an idiot for tossing Ester elsewhere when Ivy obviously didn’t know what she was doing or was used to tending to an actual person. Ester was always on time, and she knew what I expected. I should have known better than to chuck her into a position she had never served in before. Maybe I should have asked Ester to train her, but the thought of her being in someone else’s chambers or with the male workers irked me. I was unsure why it bothered me so much. She was just a rogue girl, yet the pull I felt to her affected my choices.

I felt my mind wandering back to her as I sat here reading. Then it would remember the deep lashings on her back inflicted by that woman in the orphanage. I can’t believe Dean would allow such treatment of such a young girl. Maybe that was why she couldn’t perform her duties. Perhaps she was in pain, or possibly I was insane for allowing a rogue girl I didn’t know to be my personal servant when she evidently had no experience.

I shake my head, trying to get my thoughts away from the girl sleeping in the room across from me, which was easier said than done. Everything in me screamed for her to be close, my fingers itching to touch her, to caress her soft skin, urges to have her close and by my side taking up the forefront of my mind. My body was here, yet my mind was with her, my though utterly consumed by my rogue servant.

Could she be my mate, like Damian believes she is? Unable to pull my thoughts from her, I got up. Pushing the door open, I walked out of my room before standing near hers for a few seconds; gathering enough courage, I pushed it open, slightly peeking through the gap. Relief washed over me, and I let out a breath when I realized she had fallen asleep. She had half of a sandwich in her hand, but she was out cold, sitting upright in her bed.

It must hurt too much to lay on her back, and I would have to change her dressings again, I thought to myself before realizing I shouldn’t be the one doing that because she was a servant. Someone else could tend to her, but the urge to do it myself overwhelmed me; I wanted to be the one to look after her. I didn’t want anyone else touching her. The possessiveness I felt over her was becoming ridiculous; I was losing my d**n mind. How could she affect me so?

off her lap and the sandwich from her hand. I placed it on the bedside table. Ivy doesn’t even move. I went to pull her blanket up when I realized she was lying on it. Looking around the small room, I don’t see another when I notice her feet. Blisters covered

spare comforter off the chair and a few pairs of my bed socks; they would be thicker than the thin ones she had been wearing before walking back to her room. I draped the blanket over her, and she shifted in her sleep and her face twisted in discomfort,

tied up, preventing me from

cut. It heals quickly, my saliva closing the wound and leaving it

already done more than I should, and I certainly shouldn’t be in her room while she was unaware. That didn’t look very good that a king was in his maids’ quarters, and I should know better after Ester. II could have given her the wrong

her, wrap her petite body around mine. Wanted to feel the warmth of her skin pressed against mine. Wanting to shield her away from the world and

feet, wondering if it

and I step aside so he can

drink. I hand him