His Lost Lycan Luna (Kyson and Ivy)

Chapter 74

Ivy POV

It was early in the morning when I slipped out without the King waking; I had shut off his alarm when I woke before deciding to help Clarice in the kitchens; I looked over at Peter, the stable hand boy, as he came in. He stopped by the counter and leaned on it. Peter was only young, with a mop of curly hair. He kept shoving his fringe out of his eyes.

“Clarice, is Gannon or Dustin around? I need help to move the barrels from the shed into the barn.” Peter asked.

“Barrels?” Clarice asked questionably, and Peter sighed.

“Yeah, the empty wine barrels. Jamie wants me to cut them in half so he can make garden beds out of them, but I need to cut them and paint them for him,” he said with a huff, clearly not enjoying being given extra chores by the gardener.

“Do it in the shed,” Clarice tells him with a shrug.

“Can’t, there is not enough room; it’s full with the furniture from the east wing,” he whined.

go look for them. I do not know where either of

peel potatoes, saying I shouldn’t even be helping. However, with Abbie gone, I was constantly bored and

a fit if he finds you in the

tell her, and Peter’s eyes lit up at the

you

b****y King if needed,” I growled before grabbing Peter’s arm and tugging

don’t want to get in trouble” Peter said nervously as

tell him, dragging him through the castle. I knew the King was asleep still, so I didn’t have to worry about him sending someone to

room to drag the old wine barrels out, then we re-stacked the shed, making it more accessible in the future. I watched as Peter cut the wine barrels with a chainsaw. Peter wouldn’t let me try because he was too worried the King would be angered if

to dry when I heard a loud squawking distance, which caused me to look toward the pier that extended over the lake. The only thing I saw moving was something flapping, so l suspected it was a bird. Stepping cautiously onto the wooden dock I crept to the end, wary of the deep blackened water. Upon reaching the end, I saw a Swan

found. In a kneeling position, I held onto the wooden pier as I tried to grab the swan by its long neck, so I could pull it closer. The bird seemed to be caught in some netting or something. When the creature shrieked and flapped its wings as

my weight and angle overbalanced me, and I screamed, tumbling into the blackened water. While I kicked and

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