His Lost Lycan Luna (Kyson and Ivy)

He pats his chest. This man was absurd to have his servant laying on him. He patted his chest again. He wasn’t serious? Was he? If anyone walked in, I would be whipped for days if I was caught in this position.

“Ivy,” He spoke one word, yet the warning in it made do as he wanted, and I settled against him, and he tugged my head down on his chest, and I could hear the slow, steady rhythm of his heart beneath my ear. King Kyson grabs my hand, placing it in the center of his chest before he opens the book.

“Do you want me to read to you?” He asks again. I nodded my head, looking at the book.

“Good girl,” he says, wrapping his arm around me to hold the book open with two hands.

He reads perfectly, never stutters as I used to when trying to read the books in the orphanage. I was forever trying to sound the words out when I read to the children. The children tried to help teach us, but they weren’t the best teachers. They were allowed in the classes taught; they weren’t rogues. Rogues were not allowed the privilege of an education.

He stops when I start yawning, placing the book down, and his hand rubs my t***h gently.

“We can read more tomorrow. You are tired,” he states, and I nod against his shoulder before climbing off his lap. I walked toward his door heading for my room. I missed Abbie already. I hadn’t seen even a glimpse of her today. She must have been worried about me; she always worried.

“Ivy, where are you going?” He asked, and I froze, puzzled by his question before cursing under my breath. I turned away, realizing he hadn’t dismissed me.

“I’m sorry, I thought you meant” I didn’t know what he meant; I was too tired and walked off without permission.

The King watches me for a second, turning his head to the side looking me up and down.

have to worry about being watched. Only when I laid down, In

position when the door opened, and I sat upright. The King walked

He said and bite my lip. What was

and the floral scent of the soap used wafted to my nose. I sniff the blanket and instantly realize it smelt different. I shouldn’t have found that disappointing, but I

upset,” He stated,

different, the soap,” He

then asked, stepping further into my tiny

different,” I lied, not wanting to admit

is all,” he smiled. I felt my face heat with embarrassment

you,” He said, making my brows furrow, confused

“Pardon, sir?”

your pillow, Ivy,” Oh gosh, what was he up to now? He could be so bizarre

is what helps separate us, to help Identify, pack wolves and intruders. However, for me, everyone just had their own unique scent. I couldn’t differentiate between rogue and pack wolf; to me, everyone smelt different. Abbie always said something was wrong with me because everyone smelt the same

for my pillow tucked

heard him laugh softly, and the blood ran to my face at

been sleeping with my scent all week,” He said as he tugged the