His Lost Lycan Luna (Kyson and Ivy)

Book 2. His Found Lycan Luna. Chapter 7

The door closed behind him, but he was inside the stall. I quickly tried to cover my breasts, though I had

no idea why. When I asked him to close the door, I didn’t mean for him to come into the shower with me.

Gannon’s eyes run the length of me, then quickly dart away. My stomach sinks. This was why I didn’t want to turn around. I knew what he

would see, and my mutilated skin was anything but pretty. I looked disgusting, my skin-carved up, and the pieces forced back together like

broken puzzle pieces. Turning to face the back wall, a lump forms in my throat.

“Can you get out, please,” I whisper, though I knew he would hear me with his heightened hearing.

Embarrassment washed over every inch of me, and I suddenly wanted to scrub myself raw, as if I could clean away the vile marks that

laced my skin.

“Am I scaring you? I won’t hurt you, Abbie,” Gannon murmurs next to my ear before his chest presses against my back. He reaches past

me, grabbing the soap out of the niche in the wall.

“I saw the way you looked at me, Gannon. Just go; I don’t want your pity,” I tell him. He growls, the sound vibrating against my back.

“The way I looked at you?” he asks, sweeping my hair over my shoulder. He dips his face into my neck. His nose runs up the side of my jaw.

I swallowed before answering, my voice coming out shakier than intended.

“Yes, I know I look disgusting, so please, leave,” Gannon growls before his hand holding the bar of soap wraps around my waist, tugging me

flush against him. I became startlingly aware that he was indeed naked behind me. Felt every ridge of muscle and bump press against my

back and ass.

“I only looked away because I could tell you were uncomfortable with me staring, Abbie, not because I didn’t like what I could see.” he purrs.

“But he ruined me. I’m broken,” I tell him, my voice cracks at speaking those words aloud. Like suddenly saying them made the realization

sit heavier on my shoulders. I was like a broken doll, the porcelain all broken and cracked, held together with glue, marred and made ugly,

never to be whole again.

“We are all a little broken, Abbie. You’re still beautiful. You always have been, always will be. Nothing he has done to you changes that,”

Gannon says while reaching for my arm that was shielding my chest and the stitching. Gannon kisses my shoulder, and I shiver at his gentle

touch.

“Don’t hide from me. You never have to hide from me, Abbie,” Gannon whispers before gripping my wrist, his thumb rubbing over the back

of my hand. I sighed and dropped my arm while his hand holding the soap moved over my torn-up flesh. Gannon purrs, and I found his

scent soothing as the steam heated the small space.

My body relaxes, and my shoulders drop as I lean back against him, letting Gannon help wash me. I nearly fall asleep against him when he

washes my hair, my body putty in this man’s huge hands. Despite the sheer size of him and the way he could break me in half, he was

gentle, his fingers massaging my scalp and removing the congealed blood and gunk. Gannon chuckles, the sound making my eyes open to

notice I was falling asleep.

“I wish I could heal you,” he murmured as he turned me around to rinse the soap from my hair. My eyes

trail over him. I had never seen him without at least a tank top on. Of course, I had seen him with no shirt on when he shifted, but he was

covered in fur and never in the light. His skin was as ravaged as mine.

Littered with scars that went all the way to his hips. My eyes went to his honey-colored ones when | gasped at the sight of the thick scars

branding his skin. My hand reaches to touch the enormous deed scar in the center of his chest. Claw marks raked across his flesh like

someone had tried to rip his heart from him. The lines were brutal and ridged, and his chest rose and fell heavily as I traced my fingertips

gently over them. Gannon’s hand moves, his fingers move under my chin, and he tilts my face up, so I meet his gaze.

“Don’t hide yours, and I won’t hide mine,” he whispers, his thumb brushing over my bottom lip.

“These from the wars?” I asked, a little shocked; I thought Lycan had healed quickly. “No, self-inflicted,” Gannon says, looking down at his

torso.

“You did that to yourself?” I ask, horrified. He tilts his head to the side, examining my face.

“Why?” I blurted.

“The same reason you gave yourself that, to end it,” he says, his hand moving to the side of my face. His fingertips trail down the scar

behind my ear. My hand moves over his, and I touch the scar and swallow. The memory of how I got it and Azalea hers will forever haunt

me. That day, I wished I could remove it from my memory entirely. If only the rope held and didn’t snap.

“More than my life,” Gannon murmurs.

“That is what you and Azalea say?” he whispers. I swallow and nod.

:

O

“More than my life Abbie, you are worth so much more than mine. You hold on, and I will for you, I have for you,”

“Azalea told you?” I asked him, suddenly feeling dirty.

“No, the King did. Azalea wouldn’t betray you. She explained how you both shared similar scars and the meaning behind the words you

speak with each other. Not what the butcher did, but I got the picture. Doyle confessed when I found him.”.

“You met him?” I ask, feeling bile rise in the back of my throat.

“Yes, and we killed him for what he did. Mrs. Daley, too, he will never come after you again. I will never let anyone touch you again.”

“You killed him?” | ask. I was surprised at how little I felt about that information. He had confessed to murdering someone, but I felt nothing.

“He hurt you, so I made him hurt too,” Gannon tells me, and I nod, biting my lip. What do you say to someone that confesses to killing for

you? I should be worried he would, yet I felt nothing. Not sadness, not relief, just nothing.

“I wish I could heal you,” he murmurs, and my eyes dart to him, his eyes roaming over my marred flesh before moving to the marks on my

neck.

“Kade never deserved you. I hate that his marks lay on your beautiful neck.” I touch them, and they feel

bruised. The movement of that makes me wince.

“You will let me remove his mark from you one day, I can be patient, Abbie,” Gannon says, and my brows furrow at his words.

“You can remove them?” Gannon chuckles darkly.

“Yes, when I mark you and when you agree to let me be yours,” he says, and I step back. I wasn’t sure ! wanted anyone to have that sort of

control over me again, not after what Kade did.

“Shh, not now. When you’re ready. I will wait. For now, having you back is enough for me,” he says, stepping closer. His arm goes behind

me, and the water cuts off.

“What if I am never ready?” I ask, wondering if he would walk away.

I wasn’t sure if I could be with anyone, though I used to want to be with Gannon. I still do; I just wasn’t sure how that would be possible now.

So much has changed. I have changed, and I knew it wasn’t for the better.

“I’m immortal, Abbie. I have all the time in the world to wait for you,” he says before turning and grabbing the towel hanging on the hook. He

wraps it around me before pulling me closer. His lips press to my forehead.

“You’re worth waiting for,” he murmurs, and I sighed, closing my eyes and just enjoying his closeness.