His Lost Lycan Luna (Kyson and Ivy)

Kyson POV Her awkwardness was adorable, although also slightly annoying. Not her, but you could tell how uncomfortable she was doing everyday mundane things that should be normal to anybody.

And she always stood, like she was waiting for orders or waiting for me to ask her to do something unless I forced her to sit. It was beginning to irritate me. At least she put the clothes on, but now she was standing at the door with her eyes straight ahead, hands behind her back. We just bathed together, yet she was still trying to be my servant. Like it was uncomfortable for her to be herself, or maybe she isn’t used to being herself and only used to the version of what everyone wanted her to be. It was like watching someone who is institutionalized.

When the knock sounded on the door, I knew the car was ready. I watched her move to open it before standing back in her corner as if she could blend into the bookcase. She shitted her weight from one foot to the other. My Beta walked in, noticing her and looking over at her. He knew she was my mate. He also knew my struggle with her to be a person and not a d**n slave that answers every whim, I even mutter about something, and she is moving to clean it or fix it.

Even when I got her out of the bath. Ivy got dressed and raced around cleaning up the mess I had made the night before. Even after telling her not to. Muttering about it was her job to clean. I shook my head and let her go about whatever she was doing. Even when I tried to help, she would get to it before I could.

It got to the point, I was trying to race her. I managed a few things being quicker on my feet than her. But I could see it bothered her that I was doing tasks bestowed initially to her like she thought she would get in trouble if someone walked in on me cleaning my own room.

“Morning Ivy,” Damian says to her, and she bows respectfully, baring her neck to him.

“Morning Beta,” She answered politely. Damian scratches his neck awkwardly while looking at me. l knew it also irritated him that she used his title, especially since she would outrank him once she figured out I was her mate. S**t, she will probably overpower me. I don’t think I could deny her anything. However, the chances of her actually ever asking for anything I was starting to realize were very slim.

A growl escaped me when she addressed him, and she jumped, not expecting it. Her eyes instantly dart to the floor. I click my tongue before Damian’s voice flits through my head as he mind-linked me.

“I thought you two were on the same page,”

but she still insists on being my servant. She has stood

I could have sworn you were in the

“Yep,” his brows furrow.

have

I think it’s just how

toss them to Damian,

thinks she is your s*x slave or

didn’t have s*x,”

behind us down the hall. Damain stops waiting for her to fall in

hand. She glanced at my fingers linked through hers. Her entire

who was well aware of who she was to me. I was pretty sure the entire castle knew except Ivy and Abbie. How they hadn’t figured

to reassure her, but she was frozen in place like lvy was waiting for someone to scream “Off with her head” for merely being near me. I was fuming at how timid she was. Damian had been complaining all week about Abbie being the same. He said it was like

yanked her to me, crushing her petite frame against my chest. I pressed my lips hers quickly,

her, but it only works on our mates. I used to laugh when my sister would get all worked up and be a blubbering mess or a screaming banshee from the pregnancy hormones. Until her mate would start purring, I think he could sway her to do anything when he used

I did it without even thinking with Ivy. It was odd to me whenever I witnessed it. I couldn’t understand how it worked. I had asked about it but now with Ivy. I understood it and why it was called a calling. It was like a sedative of sorts that only a mate could use to subdue their

mate. It was an arranged marriage and she refused him when they married, declined to be marked by him. Neither wanted to marry, but once he marked her, that was history, and I often watched growing up how she always seemed calm around him. It wasn’t until after they passed and I saw my sister and her mate that I understood why my father always purred when my mother was