His Lost Lycan Luna (Kyson and Ivy)

Chapter 82

Getting up, I followed her. Her skin was clammy as she ambled to the sink basin to rinse her and brush her teeth. Leaning on the door frame, I watched her, and she wet her face before wetting the back of her neck. She stopped beside me when she went to leave, and I stepped aside, letting her pass. By the time she got back to the bed in front of the fireplace, her teeth were chattering. Goosebumps covered every inch of flesh as she huddled beneath the blanket.

Lying down, her mind was churning. I could feel it, feel her confusion yet also curiosity but also her fear of knowing the truth. Her pain writhed through the bond, the cramping, nausea. One thing I am glad is long over and gone for myself. It’s just the initial shift, your body preparing itself. Your first shift always sticks with you; it is excruciating. Hers made worse by our sabotaged bond.

“It makes no sense,” she murmurs, barely audible even to my ears. I roll on my side, peeling the blanket back. She was bundled in like a human burrito. “What doesn’t?” I ask her.

“If it was true, why would she take me? Why not k**l me?”

“Unfortunately, not everything makes sense, Ivy, and I don’t think I want to make sense of that woman’s mind; if it made sense, we would be like her if we shared her mindset,” I answer.

Ivy sighs, and her big cerulean blue eyes peer up at me. “And if you’re wrong?”

“I’m not. I was the first time; I am sure this time, Ivy,” I answer.

“But if you are?”

“Then nothing, you’re still my mate, and you are not your mother,” I tell her. She snuggles down in the blanket, only from her nose up peeking out from the blanket.

“My body heat will help regulate your temperature. The bond calls for it now. It recognizes me, Ivy. Don’t suffer just because I was a p***k. You have me and the bond; use it. I won’t force you to do anything unless you ask me to,” I tell her.

“Why would I ask you too?” she says, like I am absurd.

calling, Ivy. I know you don’t like me using it,

to rape the women,” she says with a roll of her eyes. She was half correct. It is barbaric when you look at

never rape you. Do you think that little of

when you use it to get what you want,” she says. I

aphrodisiac or calm you, which is my only intention to calm

Lycans, we can even get a sense of

“How so?” she asks.

like your hand. For example, mine hurt too. I can feel your curiosity to know if I am right about you being Azalea. Yet your apprehension at also knowing, I can tell that I scare you,”

I haven’t marked

it comes to you,

me will strengthen you,” I tell her in

of being strong. Sick of biting my tongue, sick of answering to someone, sick of the mold everyone put me in, I am tired. Strength? Strength isn’t physical; it’s enduring. Enduring of everything when all you

she nodded. I knew it had to have meaning because they always said it

beating for you; we stopped living for ourselves. Instead, we lived for each other. You go, I go, so you keep fighting because you can’t bear the thought of leaving

“Like a pact?”

made it

when you were

I knew. She told me to leave, but I grabbed the other chair and climbed up beside her and loosened the noose, wrapping it

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