His Lost Lycan Luna (Jessica Hall)
Chapter 74
Read His Lost Lycan Luna by Jessica Hall Chapter 74 – 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.
you will have to go look for them.
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
fit if he finds you in the stables working,”
helping Peter,” I tell her, and Peter’s eyes lit up
lose his mind if you get hurt,” Clarice
with the b****y King if needed,” I growled before grabbing Peter’s arm
want to get in trouble” Peter said nervously
and not letting me help,” I tell him, dragging him through the castle. I knew the King was
cut the wine barrels with a chainsaw. Peter wouldn’t let me try because he was
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
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
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