His Lost Lycan Luna (Kyson and Ivy)

Chapter 71

It took me a good few minutes to spot him kneeling behind a huge headstone. Wandering over to him, he looked up when my shadow cast over him.

“Ivy, I mean my Queen,” he said, baring his neck to me.

“Ivy is fine,” I tell him, and he lets out a breath.

“So can I help you with something?” he asked, and I shrugged, looking down at what he was doing. He was scrubbing and cleaning the headstones and removing the d**d flowers.

“Want some help?” I asked, and he chewed his lip before peering over the headstone and glancing at the castle. “Are you allowed?” He whispered, and I peered back over at the castle.

“Yes, I don’t see why not,” I shrugged.

“Well, I am nearly done with this row. If you grab another bucket and brush, you’ll also need a polishing rag,” he said, showing me his tucked into his belt. Nodding, I turned and walked back toward the castle.

“In the laundry room, Ivy,” he called, and I nodded, going in search of the cleaning supplies.

a few strange stares from those working in the laundry, but they said nothing or questioned me as I slipped back out with everything. Making my way back to Peter, he was in the next row and stood up, coming

I asked him, and

pretty old though and require more scrubbing, or there is the servant’s cemetery over there,” he said, pointing closest to the forest and castle. “Or the hunters and rebels’ victims are the ones nearest the river.” He says before looking at

“Hunters and rebels victims?”

Marissa was a rogue werewolf she k****d the King’s sister and that um, the royal family, they live, yeah I don’t know hours out that-away,

Peter rambled on to say, yet I was still stuck at the mention of my mother’s name. Did Peter not know

are there?” I asked, looking out at

be a servant and then k**l everyone while they were sleeping. Most of

and because my mother was behind

was the worst Lycan serial k****r in history,” Peter

stuffing her back in her womb. Well, that’s what I heard

was cleaning and made my way to the back. The first grave l came to belonged to a woman kneeling down. I set to work. When I finished hers, I moved to the next and looked across the rows; the weight of what

her own people. After turning back to the grave in front of me, I noticed that it had the same last name as the woman’s grave beside it and that it was a child’s grave. 3 months old, the

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