His Lost Lycan Luna by Jessica Hall Chapter 197

Read His Lost Lycan Luna by Jessica Hall Chapter 197 – Azalea POV

Kyson was stoking the fire while I looked over old maps. Kyson was trying to teach me about the Kingdoms and what each represented. To me, it was gibberish, yet I was determined to learn.

He also explained everything about Ester and Trey and how Marrissa was my father’s mate, which explained why she never shifted, though I didn’t understand why she and Jordan wouldn’t try to save themselves.

They could have taken down Alpha Dean’s Pack easily, being Lycan. There were also holes to me that didn’t make sense. Walking back to me, Kyson sits behind me on the sofa, his finger fiddling with my hair as he twisted it into a braid.

We had a good afternoon; Kyson almost seemed to have a lobotomy. Whatever Damian had said to him had changed his entire demeanor. I shiver as his fingers brush the back of my neck, making me cringe a little at the ticklish feeling when I knew I was treading dangerously, but it had been playing on my mind all afternoon. So I needed to ask.

“Can I ask you something?” I ask him, leaning back and placing my head on his t***h.

“Hmm,” he hums, tipping my head forward to finish braiding it.

“You said you commanded Ester, right?” He hums in agreement again, and my brows furrowed. I could tell through the bond he didn’t like this line of questioning.

“How strongly did you command her?”

“Fairly strongly. Enough to drop her if she lied. Why?”

“Just some things don’t make sense to me,” I admit.

“Like what?”

“For one, why my mother… I mean, Marrissa never shifted when Alpha Dean’s men attacked! If she was Lycan, she should have been easily able to k**l them,” I tell him. He fell quiet for a second, and I could feel that he was thinking.

“I wondered that too, but Garret died. It could have done something to her Lycan side. Lycans weaken drastically after a mate dies. Most d*e, and if she was sired to you, it might have been the only thing keeping her alive,” Kyson says, and I sigh.

“Well, what about Ester not recognizing her?”

“She did recognize her. Marrissa threatened to tell us the truth about Peter if she snitched on her.”

“But that is the thing that doesn’t make sense. Landeena’s have immunity. You would have been forced to protect Peter. Marrissa had to have known that; that hardly seems like much of a threat to me,” I tell him, and his fingers stop again.

“I thought that was a little odd too. Ester probably didn’t want Peter to become a target for hunters?” I shake my head. What safer place would there be then to be protected by the King’s guard? Then again, is that why Marrissa refused to fight to protect me? She did say as much, but if that were the case, she wanted to protect me. Why not drop me on Kyson’s doorstep? Marrissa obviously knew he was searching for her and the council.

“I think you’re looking too much into it. Ester was commanded. She can’t fight my command.”

“Unless she had drunk Landeena’s blood?” I offer, yet Kyson shakes his head.

“Peter hasn’t shifted yet. It doesn’t work like that. He has no Alpha aura either. His bloodline is watered down. His blood would have no effect on her against me,” Kyson says, and I nibble my lip. It was on the tip of my tongue. I just couldn’t think of it. Something was amiss, and I could almost feel it in my bones.

“I think it is stress making you overthink,” Kyson says, tipping my head back, yet one thing kept playing on my mind, and I was almost certain of it.

“I think Marrissa was framed,” I murmur, and Kyson tips my head back, forcing me to look up at him.

“You are not defending that woman!”

“What if I am? It feels wrong. I knew Marrissa, and she loved me. She would never have hurt me like that?”

“She was sired to you. Of course, she loved you. You kept her alive,” Kyson growls, dipping his face and n*****g at my lips, but I turn my face before he can deepen it. Kyson sighs.

“I don’t want to fight over this, Azzy. Please. We had a great afternoon. Don’t ruin it,” he says, and love s*****w. Despite that, my mind was made up. Marrissa didn’t do it, and now I had to find a way to prove it because Kyson refuses to believe he was wrong for all these years. That they had it wrong, but how do I explain her k*****g all those children or his sister?

“I get it. You want to see good in the woman who raised you, but …”

“No, it’s not that. The more I have thought about it, the little things keep popping up, and now I am kind of regretting not questioning her myself,”

“You don’t trust what she said under my command?” Kyson asked incredulously. My brows furrow.

“And you are sure you commanded, and she couldn’t have resisted it? No doubt?” I ask him, and he falls quiet.

“I am sure, Azzy. Please, no more talking about it. Let me have one night without worrying about the drama in our lives, and enjoy the night,” Kyson sighs. He gets up, muttering to himself, walking to his bar in the corner.

“I hate when you drink,” I tell him, and he stops glancing at me over his shoulder.

“I am only having one,”

“It’s never one, and you know it. You think I didn’t see how much you drank after the-” I trail off, shaking my head. Don’t go there. Don’t go there, Azalea. I scolded myself.

“It helps,”

“Help get you drunk and turn into an asshat,” I tell him, turning back to the maps I couldn’t read but had a general understanding of by the mountains. When l looked up at him again, he was shaking his head, pouring himself a glass, and I clicked my tongue.

“I won’t mention anything else tonight if you put the glass down,” I tell him, tilting my head to the side, watching him.

“And if I drink it?” he asks, turning with the glass in his hands. Yet I knew he was drinking because it numbed him but also helped him dampen his urges. Regardless, it wasn’t a permanent solution. Glancing around the room, my eyes fall on the bookshelf.

“Read to me?”

“You want me to read?” he asks, wandering over to the bookcase. Yet he puts the glass down on the coffee table as he picks a book out.

“Rapunzel?” I shake my head.

“Prince and the pauper?” I shrug, and he pulls it down before retrieving the glass, and I press my lips in a line. He moves to the bed, propping pillows up before sitting down before seeing me glaring at him.

“It’s one glass!” He growls, patting his chest. I raise an eyebrow at him, moving toward the bed and climbing into his lap. Though when he picked up the glass, I snatched it from him, downing the entire cup, fighting the urge to spit the burning liquid in his face. It was like s********g jet fuel and was disgusting when I realized it wasn’t his usual whiskey but something much more pungent.

“Well, that is what you get for stealing my drink,” he says as I cough and sputter. He deposits me beside him, getting up and taking the glass back to the bar. Jumping off the bed, I swipe the bottle before he can grab it.

“Azalea, you can’t drink the whole thing! You will be on the floor after barely a quarter of that!” he growls angrily. I tip the bottle to my lip, already cringing from the strong smell.

“Go on then. I will grab it when you pass out,” he says, folding his arms across his chest. I s**k in a deep breath, wondering if holding my breath will make it not b**n or taste so bad.

I chugged some down, the fiery liquid making it feel like I was drinking lava, and my eyes watered before l gasped, s*****g in a choking breath and coughing. Definitely could be used as some kind of fuel. Kyson reaches for the bottle, I snatch it away, and he growls at me, but I growl back at him.

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