His Lost Lycan Luna (Jessica Hall) novel Chapter 17

Read His Lost Lycan Luna by Jessica Hall Chapter 17 – He pats his chest. This man was absurd to have his servant laying on him. He patted his chest again. He wasn’t serious? Was he? If anyone walked in, I would be whipped for days if I was caught in this position.

“Ivy,” He spoke one word, yet the warning in it made do as he wanted, and I settled against him, and he tugged my head down on his chest, and I could hear the slow, steady rhythm of his heart beneath my ear. King Kyson grabs my hand, placing it in the center of his chest before he opens the book.

“Do you want me to read to you?” He asks again. I nodded my head, looking at the book.

“Good girl,” he says, wrapping his arm around me to hold the book open with two hands.

He reads perfectly, never stutters as I used to when trying to read the books in the orphanage. I was forever trying to sound the words out when I read to the children. The children tried to help teach us, but they weren’t the best teachers. They were allowed in the classes taught; they weren’t rogues. Rogues were not allowed the privilege of an education.

He stops when I start yawning, placing the book down, and his hand rubs my t***h gently.

“We can read more tomorrow. You are tired,” he states, and I nod against his shoulder before climbing off his lap. I walked toward his door heading for my room. I missed Abbie already. I hadn’t seen even a glimpse of her today. She must have been worried about me; she always worried.

“Ivy, where are you going?” He asked, and I froze, puzzled by his question before cursing under my breath. I turned away, realizing he hadn’t dismissed me.

“I’m sorry, I thought you meant” I didn’t know what he meant; I was too tired and walked off without permission.

The King watches me for a second, turning his head to the side looking me up and down.

“You may go. I will see you at breakfast” I bow slightly before taking my leave. I rushed back to my tiny room, relieved that I was now on my own and didn’t have to worry about being watched. Only when I laid down, In realize something, the King’s blanket was gone, the one I always found placed in the room whenever l tried to return it. It saddened me. For some reason, I had grown attached to it, and the King’s lingering scent on it I found comforting.

I sighed and lay down, trying to find a comfortable position when the door opened, and I sat upright. The King walked in with the blanket, and I went to get up.

“Remain where you are,” He said and bite my lip. What was he doing in here?

“I had it washed for you,” He said, chucking the blanket over me. My brows furrowed and the floral scent of the soap used wafted to my nose. I sniff the blanket and instantly realize it smelt different. I shouldn’t have found that disappointing, but I did.

“You seem upset,” He stated, observing me.

“No, my King. It smells different, the soap,” He chuckled like what I said had amused him.

“Different how?” He then asked, stepping further into my tiny room.

“Just different,” I lied, not wanting to admit that it didn’t smell like him.