His Lost Lycan Luna (Kyson and Ivy)

I gasped, letting him go, but he pulled me closer. “You can bite me, Ivy,” I shook my head.

“I made you bleed,” I shrieked, trying to get off him. He would surely whip me now. S**t, his guards

would, the moment they noticed what I did.

“Shh, breathe. Do I sound mad?” he asked, holding my face still, my lips pressed against his warm skin,

and I clamped my teeth together as the urge returned.

“It’s okay, love. If you want to bite me, bite me, I am yours to do what you want with,”

“A servant,”

“Call yourself that again and see what happens. I don’t know how much clearer I can be; I have told you I

don’t want you as my servant, that I want to change you,” He sighed, his grip loosening.

“I want you to be mine, and I want to be yours. I want to make you my Queen, do you understand that? I

want to mark you after you shift, Ivy, I want to change you, and I want you to be my Luna Queen,” I

jerked in his hold and growled but let me sit up but refused to let me off his lap.

“You want to mark me?” I asked, and he nodded.

“Yes, I want to mark and mate you, I also want to change you,”

“But I am a rogue, a servant,”

“Not to me, your not, I don’t care for your status, and neither will my Pack, I want you, but I want you to

want me to,”

“Wait, you don’t want me to be a s*x slave?” Isn’t this why he was being nice, because he wanted

something?

“What?” He seemed outraged by my words.

“Is that what you thought all this was?” he snapped at me. I swallowed but nodded. What else was I

supposed to think? I knew what had happened to the rogues. It hung over mine and Abbie’s head for

years. Mrs. Daley made sure we didn’t forget our place; she even branded it in our skin, so we wouldn’t

forget. We weren’t people; we were objects, labor, someone to kick when they feel particularly s****y

about their lives, a quick power boost because we had no power of our own.

“I figured you would throw me away when you got bored, which is fine. You don’t have to promise things

or do things. It is what it is,” Kyson growled, and the sound vibrated against my chest, making my heart

beat erratically.

“If I wanted to f**k you, I would have ordered you on your back, Ivy. I certainly wouldn’t be explaining

myself to you for it either. So let me make one thing clear. I do not want a s*x slave; I want a mate, and I

want you to let me be yours, equals. Not you do things because you believe it’s what I want or because

you feel obligated to because I am the King,” his anger was terrifying as I watched his eyes flicker to the

beast within him.

“Equals Ivy, I won’t pull rank over you unless it is to do with your safety or something I feel strongly

about, and I sure as h**l would never force myself on you or anyone. If I make you uncomfortable, you

tell me, I won’t get mad, and I won’t punish you for how you feel. Equals, if you want something, tell me;

if you don’t, tell me, and I will do the same for you. Is that understood?” He asked, and my lips parted.

Words failed me. Most would dream of being with a Lycan king. However, my wishes weren’t like anyone

else’s. I didn’t want to be owned. I wished for freedom, a voice because mine had been squashed for so

long.

Sometimes I wondered if I even had one left; I certainly never used it, so I found words hard, except with

Abbie. I could take orders. That’s all I knew since a young age.

Who would want a Queen that was submissive to life because they never had one? Abbie and I always

spoke of what we would do with our freedom, but honestly, they were just dreams, something we knew

would never come to fruition. If given a chance, we would probably fall back into the same place, not

knowing anything else. Comfortable in our own misery because that’s what we were used to.

“Ivy,”

“I don’t think I can be what you want,” I told him, and he sighed.

“We still have time, but one thing remains clear: you are not my servant. You are just Ivy.” His words

confused me.

Not because I didn’t understand what he said but because I didn’t know who I was. She got lost in a

child’s dream of who I thought I would be and who I would become. A dream that became so out of

reach it faded away and was long forgotten because those dreams were trampled into dust and floated

off with the wind. I was an imposter of who I once was. Now I am “you,” a reflection of what they made

me to be. The name they gave us because ours wasn’t worth speaking.

“What are you thinking?” Kyson asked me, and I sniffled. Words were not my thing, so I found it odd that

he always requested them.

“I don’t know who I am if I am not a slave or servant, Kyson,”

“I know exactly who you are,” he whispered, pecking my lips softly. He nibbled on the bottom one. His

warm palms caressed my ribs to the sides of my b*****s while his lips trailed down my jawline.

“You are the woman I want, the woman I will love and cherish. You are mine just as I am yours,” he

murmured as he trailed open mouth kisses down my neck, making me purr. He paused and chuckled at

the sound I made before he pressed his lips in a similar spot to where I accidentally bit him.

“And when you realize that” He whispered before sucking the same spot.

“I will place my mark right here, so everyone knows I am yours, and you are my Queen,” he said before

breaking the skin with his teeth. I jumped at the sting, but his tongue was already lapping over it.

Heat rushed through me, and my skin tingled and vibrated, my nerves buzzing at his touch. He pulled his

face from my neck, and I touched the spot with my fingertips.

“I didn’t mark you, lvy. I can’t until you shift, but I must say I do like the look of my teeth on your skin,” my

eyes went the mark I left on him. It had healed but was scarred, which I thought odd. I touched it, and he

shivered.

“They’re called promise bites, you haven’t got canines yet, but once you shift, you will be able to mark

me,” he says. His hands cupped my face and his thumbs went to my upper lip, pushing it up. His brows

pinched in the middle before he did the same to my bottom lip.

“What is it?” I ask him.

“Nothing, just you already have canines. It sometimes happens with werewolves, and they won’t extend

fully until you shift but are you sure your birthday is a couple of weeks away?”

“I think so,” I told him.

“Strange, not unheard of, but usually they come down a couple of days before a shift, not weeks before,

unless your Lycan, mine were always longer than werewolves or human teeth,” he shrugs.

“Something is wrong with my teeth?” I asked, touching them with my finger. They felt the same as

always, no different, and surely I would notice. Wouldn’t my speech change?

“No, nothing is wrong with them. They just look a little more extended than normal. That’s why I asked

about your birthday.” I shrugged unsurely. Mum said it was on that day, and she would have known.

“Want to hear something funny?” I raised an eyebrow at him but nodded.

“Lycans are born with their canines. My baby photos look pretty funny,” he chuckled. I laughed and

thought that would look funny.

“We should eat, our food is probably cold, and we have to be up early to get to the castle by lunchtime,”

“Did you know the King and Queen well?”

“Kind of, they kept to themselves mostly. My parents were close to them. When I was a child, my parents

had an arrangement with theirs,”

“What sort of arrangement?”

“A marriage one, if they had a daughter, she was to be promised to me when she came of age, to help

keep the royal bloodlines strong, but that went down the drain obviously,”

“Were you upset?” He shrugged.

“No, not really. I didn’t know her, they kept her a secret paranoid about the hunters finding out about her,

plus I would have had to wait years anyway, but I am not sure I would have gone through with it if she

said no,”

“Why’s that?”

“Because my parents had an arranged marriage. My mother disagreed at first,”

“Your parents didn’t like each other?”

“No, they loved each other, but at first no, not until my father marked her. I just wanted to try to find my

mate first,”

“What happened to the girl?”

“They k****d her, we found her blood-stained clothes and also some of her hair, since half the kingdom

was s*********d along with them we couldn’t exactly be sure which child she was, and also not knowing

exactly how old she was didn’t help us. We only had the clothes to go off for approximate size, and so

many kids turned up in the river,” he shook his head at the memory, which obviously stayed with him all

these years.

“If she lived?”

“I probably would have given her to my sister to raise. It would be awkward raising my future mate, don’t

you think?” He laughed. I thought for a second that would be strange.

“Yes, that would certainly be different,” I chuckled.