His Lost Lycan Luna (Kyson and Ivy)

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.

“Well, you will have to go look for them. I do not know where either of the”

“I can help,” I offered. Being outside sounded great, and Clarice hardly let me do anything to help

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

bored and still hadn’t forgiven the King for marking me or healing me while I slept. I also hated that he

used the calling on me to force me to submit the other night.

“The King will pitch a fit if he finds you in the stables working,” Clarice said.

“Let him, I am helping Peter,” I tell her, and Peter’s eyes lit up at the offer of help.

“Ivy, he will lose his mind if you get hurt,” Clarice said, grabbing my hand gently.

“It’s fine, Clarice; I will deal with the b****y King if needed,” I growled before grabbing Peter’s arm and

tugging him out the door.

“Are you sure, my Queen? I don’t want to get in trouble” Peter said nervously as he worried his lip

between his teeth.

“Yep, I want to go outside anyway, sick of watching people work and not letting me help,” I 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 look for me for a few hours, anyway.

A few hours passed, and we managed to create enough 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 he found

out, so I watched. He did, however, let me help paint them.

When we were finished. Peter headed up to see the gardener so he could let him know that we were just

waiting for the paint 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 flapping his wings frantically and squawking in the water as

he tried to fly away. But, he appeared to be caught in something as he tried to take flight.

Turning away from the poor thing, I began calling out to Peter, but he was nowhere to be 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 it tried to free itself, my fingertips grazed the surface of its face. As its wing became

stuck, I leaned over a little, attempting to save it as the swan began getting dragged under. “Stop

flapping,” I growled at the silly swan.

I was just grasping the feathers of the back end when my weight and angle overbalanced me, and I

screamed, tumbling into the blackened water. While I kicked and flailed, trying to reach the surface and

reach for the wooden pier, I tangled myself in the mesh netting that the swan was trapped in.

When I breached the surface, I was sputtering and choked on the water as the swan flailed frantically

and took off.

“Peter!” I rasped. Screaming as loud as my burning throat allowed.

“Peter!” I tried to scream as my legs became more tangled, and I tried to stretch my arm out to reach for

the pier, only to be pulled further away.

When I was dragged under by the weight of what I was caught on, I choked on the water that was spilling

into my mouth. The water filling my lungs. I knew I was drowning, could feel my lungs filling with water as

I tried to reach the surface. As my effort began to d*e out, calm swept over me. It was an odd sensation. I

knew I was d***g, yet calm washed through me and peace as I d*****d.

It wasn’t until I breached the surface that the pain hit; hands gripped my waist, and I was hauled upright,

and I gasped a pained breath only to be ripped back under because my feet were still tangled. I tried to

blink through the murky water, my eyes stinging while someone untangled the mesh from around my

legs. The moment we breached the surface, I panicked, sputtered, coughed, and locked my legs around

their waist.

As I shoved him under, he coughed and spluttered before a furious growl ripped from his throat, and l

was turned so I wouldn’t be able to push him beneath the surface again.

“Calm down before you d***n us both,” the King snapped at me while I sucked in much-needed air. My

lungs felt like they had been put through mincer-like razors sliced through my chest with each agonizing

breath.