บททั้งหมดของ Rescuing His Enslaved Luna Queen: บทที่ 61 - บทที่ 70

Ivy's POVEven though I’d never even imagined becoming Spencer’s Luna, the Lycan Queen’s rejection still stings. Only since my father’s death have I truly realized just how much malice exists in the world. Once, I’d been my father’s pride and joy, the crown jewel of my pack–cherished and pampered and adored from such a young age. But now, there’s no one on my side. I have to face these challenges alone. The maid’s whip lands on the already-bleeding wounds, causing me to gasp sharply again. Thinking about Spencer makes me feel a bit better, though. Even just imagining him is something of a comfort. I fight the urge to scream at the queen. I won’t give her the satisfaction. “I never thought I could… become Spencer’s Luna…” The gaps between my words are interspersed with sharp hisses. “But I am his mate. The choice of who his Luna is should be made by Spencer himself…”The queen narrows her eyes at me in anger, and I feel proud of my small rebellion. No doubt she had hoped to see m

Ivy's POVThe room is empty except for Spencer and I.Spencer lays me down gently on his bed and starts to remove my hospital gown. I find myself blushing, body heating up. “Wait,” I say suddenly. I know we’ve been… intimate before. And considering the deep wounds biting into my back, I’m sure he’s only trying to see how I’m doing. And yet, I still find myself embarrassed about undressing in front of him. My gaze drops to the bottle of ointment in his hand. He’s only trying to heal me. “Just apply the medicine, please,” I say shyly. “You don’t… you don’t have to…” I trail off, not quite sure how to finish the sentence. Spencer raises an eyebrow. “No saliva this time?” He asks, clearly picking up where I left off. My face flushes. “Yeah,” I reply, nodding slightly. “As you wish.” Spencer’s voice is gentlemanly, but his smirk says otherwise. I lay down on my stomach as he gingerly peels away the thin fabric. The cold air feels good against my injuries. Soothing, almost. When hi

Ivy's POVI’ve never seen such a valiant she-wolf in my life. I can’t stop looking at her. Can’t tear my gaze away. Dressed in polished, shining red armor, she looks like the perfect picture of a blazing fire–brilliant and striking. Her long, raven-black hair is pulled into a sleek high ponytail, revealing a sharply defined face with determined eyes that pierce like an eagle’s.As she talks with Spencer, pacing back and forth, her movements are steady and graceful. Each action is packed with an uncanny grace. Her steel-toed combat boots make a commanding clank on the ground, as though declaring her resolve with every step. Dangling from a bejeweled sheath at her hip is a wickedly sharp longsword, a few inches of exposed blade glinting in the sunlight. Everything about her evokes awe. She must be a warrior. But who is she? I watch her proud stance and domineering presence with wide eyes, feeling a profound sense of respect as I look at her. Suddenly, Spencer’s gaze latches onto

Ivy's POV“We’ll start with the greeting etiquette.”The playful lilt to Princess Sylvia’s voice immediately makes me tense, and I look at her cautiously, uncovering my own platter of food as she starts to explain. “Everyone must kneel before Lycan Royalty,” Princess Sylvia proclaims. “And for ladies such as yourself, a curtsey is required. You must cross your legs and bend in a half-squat position, as low to the ground as possible. Keep your back straight, and every movement dainty and graceful. You do not want to offend any member of the Lycan Royal Family with a disastrous curtsey. And, of course, your eyes should not ever meet royalty’s gaze. Your head must be lowered.” Princess Sylvia looks up at me expectantly, cutting into her food with a tiny silver knife. “Oh!” I blink in surprise. “Um–am I supposed to…?”“Well, do you expect me to curtsey to you?” Princess Sylvia asks with a snort that I must admit sounds quite unladylike. “What a ridiculous notion! Show me your curtsey.

Ivy's POVBeta Wilson looks utterly heartbroken as he leads us away from Princess Sylvia’s chambers. “Let’s go to the garden,” he suggests quietly, moving quickly through the hallways. “I need to… I need to clear my head.”I nod in agreement, allowing him to guide the two of us to the palace gardens. As we step into the lush mazes of roses and lilies, past terraces dripping with wisteria and fountains sending gorgeous arcs of water into the sky, a strange sort of calm seems to settle over both of us. We walk between archways and fruit trees laden heavily with fruit for a bit, but soon, the muscles in my legs start to protest. Still sore from everything the maids and Princess Sylvia put me through, I take a seat on a stone bench beneath an orange tree. The sweet scent of citrus envelops us. “Beta Wilson,” I say carefully, “Can I ask you something… direct?”“Go right ahead,” he replies with a defeated sigh. “Do you love Princess Sylvia?”Beta Wilson’s mouth falls open in shock, expr