His Lost Lycan Luna (Jessica Hall)

“What is it?” Trey said behind me. I watched as Azalea moved toward the bed, sniffing the air.
“Nothing. Liam had Clarice clean everything in here. It smells wrong to her,” I tell him. Trey sighs. The only lingering
scents were Gannon, Dustin’s, and Peter’s, who must have helped oversee everything because I forgot Gannon couldn’t
come with us because of her command over him.
“Okay, as long as everything is alright,”

“Go to bed, Trey. Try to sleep before the sun comes up. She is safe with me,” I tell him. He nods and reluctantly leaves. I
found his bond to her odd, but now trusted him. I was seeing what an advantage we had with him. It almost seemed like
he could sense. Azalea growls, fixing her den as she destroys the sheets and makes her nest. She was whimpering at the
crisp linen scent. She raided the closet, trying to find clothes with my scent, and I stepped inside behind her as she
snatched stuff off the hangers.

Tears trekked down her face as she sniffed each piece. They weren’t supposed to touch my stuff. I hoped they would have
left a few pieces, knowing how savage she may become once her nest was ruined. She tosses them down in frustration

spins around, her eyes glowing, and she looks crazed. Her eyes ran over me as she sniffed me and licked her

“Wait, Azzy. I will take them off, and I will climb in your nest with you. Please don’t-” she pounced on me, cutting my words off as her claws slipped out. I catch her, my arms slipping around her waist as

suit jacket she had claimed and my shirt as buttons went flying as she tore it to shreds. “I really liked that suit,” I mutter, placing her on the bed as her teeth sink into my chest. As she licked

clean linens earning a snarl as she let me go and rolled, taking my clothes with her. She rearranged them in her nest, duck feathers going everywhere as she

and hated her den; I loved it because she made it, and it made her feel safe, but I hated how my clothes got destroyed; her possessiveness was amusing until she turned her savage gleam on me. I clicked my tongue and folded my arms across my chest. “No, you have my shirt and jacket,’ I tell her or what is left of them. She whimpers, the sound crushing as she

damn fortune. Her bottom lip quivers. Damn, pregnancy hormones were making her wild. I pull my belt out of the loops, cursing before slipping them down my legs and stepping out of them. I grab and hold them out to her, and she snatches them, rolling them into her nest. She wouldn’t be satisfied. I knew that. My scent was still faint in the sheets, and I moved toward the bed. I hated seeing her so distraught with

Her breathing becomes harsher. It is dangerous to go into a Lycan den or near a frantic pregnant Lycans nest. You don’t touch or change it, especially scents not belonging to the mate. It’s their cocoon of safety, and other scents were intruders. Azalea grips her hair

suddenly started clawing and ripping at her clothes, her hair,