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“Don’t get your panties in a knot just because you realize she holds all the power,” Damian teases.

“I am still the king,” Kyson snaps.

“And she is your queen,” I say, nodding toward Ivy.

A small smile tugs at Kyson’s lips. He doesn’t deny it, but his expression shifts.

“I’m still the king,” he repeats, more to himself than to us.

Damian smirks knowingly. “So you keep saying.”

“My word is law,” Kyson insists, though his tone lacks conviction.

“For now,” I tease, and Damian snickers.

“I could always keep her as my servant,” Kyson says, but there’s no weight behind the words.

Damian folds his arms, giving him an incredulous look. “I didn’t say I would,” he says flatly.

“I know you won’t,” Damian says, his tone certain.

“Unless, of course, she did something bad,” I add, earning glares from both of them.

“Now, why would you say that? What bad bone does the girl have in her body?” Damian asks, frowning at me.

“I’m just saying,” I reply with a shrug.

“It would have to be something horrendous,” Kyson admits, his voice softening as he glances at Ivy again. “Even then, I’m not sure I could…”

He trails off, a small chuckle escaping him. I raise an eyebrow at him.

“Something funny, My King?” I ask.

“No, Gannon. I’m just thinking about her birthday. When she realizes I’m her mate,” he says, leaning his head back and closing his eyes.

ABBIE

The rest of the day after they leave for the Landeena Kingdom, I am in a sour mood. I worry for Ivy no matter how many times Clarice reassures me she will be fine. After a while, she sends me upstairs. I think she got sick of my never-ending questions about the king’s intentions with her.

I am about to open the door to my little room when I remember what Gannon said, and I fish the key to his room out of my apron pocket. Moving toward his door, I place the key in and twist it. Pushing the door open, I glance around quickly stepping inside.

On the center of his bed is a paper bag, and I giggle, already knowing what it is.

Opening it, I find candy clouds, chocolates, and a wrapped present beneath the brown paper bag.

Confusion washes over me as I unwrap it, removing the decorative wrapping to find an art book, charcoal pencils, and some pastels.

I stare at it, shocked he remembered. Yet why would he buy it for me? I smile before hesitating. Wait, does he expect something in return? I wonder.

With that thought in mind, I swallow, setting it back on the bed and rushing out of the room, leaving everything behind.

No one gives you something without expecting some form of payment, and I know the sort of payment that comes with food and niceties.

Rushing to my room, I step inside and lock the door. I won’t make that mistake again.

TWO DAYS LATER

For two days, Ivy is gone, and when Clarice finally tells me she’s on her way back, I remain by the front door for hours.

I need to make sure she’s okay. When I hear the crunch of tires on the cobble driveway, I am excitedly bursting at the seams. I see the limo pull in and I rush out the door.

The king says something to Ivy before she rushes over and hugs me.

I squeeze her tight, relieved she is okay.

Grabbing their luggage, Ivy helps me haul it to the laundry room. “Abbie, I have something to tell you,” Ivy says, nudging me as we walk down the corridor. She has a guard following closely behind her.

As Ivy and I walk down the corridor, I can’t help but notice the delicate patterns on the wallpaper, something I never noticed before but this wing I don’t usually clean.

The intricate designs lend an air of sophistication and elegance to our surroundings.

The sound of our footsteps is softened by the plush carpet beneath us, and the warm glow of the sconces on the walls casts a welcoming light.

“What?” I ask, glancing nervously at her. The excitement in her eyes is contagious. Her cheeks are flushed with a rosy hue. I see her lips tug up in the corners slightly before she leans into me. “The king wants me to be his mate,” she whispers, and I stop dead in my tracks.

I take a moment to absorb the news, my heart pounding in my chest like a wild animal, desperate to break free. “Mate, as in his mate? He wants to make you his queen?” I ask, my voice trembling with emotion. I blink back tears that threaten to spill over, joy and disbelief clouding my vision.

“Means we will be free; we won’t have to go back, Abbie.

We can stay here for good,” she tells me, her voice full of hope.

As Ivy whispers the news of the king’s proposal, a myriad of emotions wash over me.

Surprise, joy, and an overwhelming sense of relief mingle together, creating a tidal wave that threatens to engulf me.

The tears that brim in my eyes cast long, dancing shadows on the walls.

“We can stay?” I ask, the words sounding like a dream as they leave my lips.

She grabs my arm, tugging me along as the scent of fresh flowers wafts through the air.

She smiles and nods, leaning her head on my shoulder as we walk through the kitchens.

The kitchen as we pass through is in absolute chaos of activity.

The aroma of freshly baked bread and savory spices fills the air, tickling my nostrils and making my stomach rumble in response.

Cooks and kitchen staff bustle about, their faces flushed with the heat and exertion as they prepare the evening meals.

When we reach the laundry room, the hum of the washing machines fills the space, providing me some comfort that it will be hard to overhear us.

We talk about the king and how he wants her as his queen.

How he hopes to change her once she shifts.

Yet as we talk about Gannon, my cheeks grow warm, and Ivy notices my reaction.

“I know it’s a shock, but Gannon even told the king he would change you if I agree to also be changed to a Lycan.” Ivy tells me.

“What’s wrong?” she asks, her brow furrowing with concern.

“Nothing, but are you sure Gannon will want to change me?” I ask, trying to keep my voice steady.

When Ivy mentions Gannon, I can’t help but feel a warmth blossoming in my chest, accompanied by a flutter of butterflies in my stomach.

I struggle to tamp down the rising tide of emotions.

However, the thought of him wanting to change me and caring enough to say he would, fills me with a giddy sense of hope that I will be allowed to remain with Ivy.

I can’t believe our luck. Just a couple weeks ago we thought we were as good as dead.

Ivy shrugs, her eyes sparkling with determination. “If not, once the king changes me, I will ask him how to change you and do it myself, but I think Gannon will change you,” she tells me, her confidence bolstering my own.

As we move to load the clothes into the washer, Ivy leans in next to me, her voice barely more than a whisper.

“I think Gannon likes you,” she giggles, her laughter like music to my ears yet her words have my face heating.

No, I’m a servant, I’m sure she has it wrong and is mistaking him for being nice.

Yet I keep replaying her words; the idea of Gannon liking me is both thrilling and terrifying, making my pulse race and my cheeks flush with heat, besides I’d be useless to a man.

I still I can’t help but ask, “What makes you say that?” I laugh, my heart skipping a beat at the thought.

Ivy grins, her eyes gleaming with mischief.

“Just something the king said. He mentioned that Gannon has never shown interest in anyone. He also asked Damian and him if he could have you as his personal servant. Gannon doesn’t want you working as a servant anymore, he knows you need to work,” she explains, her excitement for me evident in her voice.

We stand there for a moment, the implications of her words sinking in.

“We would be safe here, Abbie. I think the king is a good man, don’t you think?

” Ivy asks, her expression earnest. I nibble my lip, considering her question.

The king has been nothing but kind to us, even though his presence is always intimidating and rarely lets me see Ivy but she is in good health and seems to really like him.

“I do,” I agree. The words feel like a weight is lifting from my chest. “He’s done nothing to harm us, and if he can offer us a real home, a life here, then maybe we should take it, especially if it means we can remain together.”

Clarice’s entrance brings new energy to our conversation as she comes to check on us. She smiles warmly at us, and we eagerly share our good news. As we speak, I notice the way the light catches in her eyes, her genuine happiness for us shining through.

I can’t help my excitement that I can stay with Ivy and that she will become the king’s mate. This was the best news we have received in eight years, and it is like all our missed Christmases came at once.

“You have your chores, Abbie,” Clarice tells me. I almost forgot with my excitement, and I rush to grab my cleaning supplies; Ivy comes to help me.

“Ivy, the king has told me you are no longer his servant,” Clarice says, making us stop.

“But I want to help Abbie with her chores,” Ivy tells her.

Clarice looks at Ivy’s guard, who also doesn’t know what to say.

He only frowns. Ivy had introduced him as Dustin, and he has remained silent only watching us.

But I already know who he is; I have seen him sneak into Liam’s room and Liam into his a few times.

“I’m sorry, Ivy, but I can’t let you wear that uniform unless the king allows it. Those here would treat you like a servant in that uniform, and I don’t want any staff killed for that mistake,” Clarice explains. Ivy looks at me, and her shoulders sag.