His Lost Lycan Luna (Kyson and Ivy)

A few hours later, with a whiskey in my hand, I watched her. For some reason, I couldn’t get the look of her eyes out of my head, how they glowed, and her strength as she struggled. She must have been angry because it took nearly all my strength for me to subdue her. The other thing that bothered me was how she was able to resist my command in her anger. The calling she stood no chance against, but my command she fought. I was puzzled by it. Ivy had strength that was more than what a werewolf should have, and fought my command, yet couldn’t fight the calling; I kept trying to tell myself it was because she was my mate, yet something nagged at me as I pondered.

The sun was just peeking out along the horizon when I finally climbed into the bed next to her; she stirred and rolled into me, and I growled at her touch, her small hands pressing into my side seeking me out before I noticed she was still unconscious and just reacting to the bond. Reaching over to the bedside table, I grabbed the handcuffs from where I placed them before clamping it on her wrist and securing it to the headboard.

I couldn’t risk her waking before me and trying to run again, though now there was no place she could run or hide from me. Not while my mark lay etched into her skin. She would learn her place is with me and whatever I choose to do with her rests with me. She had no choice. It wasn’t hers, so until she learned that, then I would make the choices for both of us. Settling back beside her, I rested my head on the pillow and closed my eyes.

It only took moments for sleep to take me with her by my side, and I welcomed sleep. Not really get complete sleep since I forced her out of the castle, but with her beside me snuggled into me and her scent wrapping around me, I was plunged into oblivion.

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Ivy POV

groggy as I rolled in the bed. Yet when I went to

the handcuff wouldn’t loosen. Panic seized me as the events of yesterday flooded back to me all at

and the sight stung a little as I remembered he marked me. His threat to tie me to the bed came back to me, and my eyes scanned the room for him, but I saw him nowhere. By the light outside, it was around midday, and I struggled against the restraint, the

me, that he would

hand, and he watched me as he poured himself a drink before setting the book on the coffee table and sitting in the

leave,” he said simply like it explained his harsh treatment. Yet all I could think of was the number of times Mrs. Daley trapped or locked us away. I had confinement and was extremely claustrophobic. Despite the size of the room, being trapped on the bed and unable to use that hand

scared,” he stated, sipping his drink and

go, Kyson,”