Chapter 67


    A few hourster, with a whiskey in my hand, I watched her. For some reason, I couldn’t get the look of


    her eyes out of my head, how they glowed, and her strength as she struggled. She must have been


    angry because it took nearly all my strength for me to subdue her. The other thing that bothered me was


    how she was able to resist mymand in her anger. The calling she stood no chance against, but my


    command she fought. I was puzzled by it. Ivy had strength that was more than what a werewolf should


    have, and fought mymand, yet couldn’t fight the calling; I kept trying to tell myself it was because


    she was my mate, yet something nagged at me as I pondered.


    The sun was just peeking out along the horizon when I finally climbed into the bed next to her; she stirred


    and rolled into me, and I growled at her touch, her small hands pressing into my side seeking me out


    before I noticed she was still unconscious and just reacting to the bond. Reaching over to the bedside


    table, I grabbed the handcuffs from where I ced them before mping it on her wrist and securing it to


    the headboard.


    I couldn’t risk her waking before me and trying to run again, though now there was no ce she could


    run or hide from me. Not while my marky etched into her skin. She would learn her ce is with me


    and whatever I choose to do with her rests with me. She had no choice. It wasn’t hers, so until she


    learned that, then I would make the choices for both of us. Settling back beside her, I rested my head on


    the pillow and closed my eyes.


    It only took moments for sleep to take me with her by my side, and I weed sleep. Not really get


    complete sleep since I forced her out of the castle, but with her beside me snuggled into me and her


    scent wrapping around me, I was plunged into oblivion.


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    *********


    Ivy POV


    My muscles ached as I blinked up at the ceiling. My head hurt, and I felt groggy as I rolled in the bed. Yet


    when I went to move my hand to rub my eyes, something cold and metal caught my wrist.


    Tilting my head up, I found one hand was cuffed to the headboard. I gasped, jerking on my trapped wrist,


    yet the handcuff wouldn’t loosen. Panic seized me as the events of yesterday flooded back to me all at


    once. My lungs felt restricted, and I struggled to breathe when my other hand went to my neck.


    My fingertips tingled, and the sight stung a little as I remembered he marked me. His threat to tie me to


    the bed came back to me, and my eyes scanned the room for him, but I saw him nowhere. By the light


    outside, it was around midday, and I struggled against the restraint, the metal digging in and bruising my


    wrist as I tried to free myself.


    Warm tears streamed down my cheeks. He trapped me. He confined me to the bed and had now marked


    me. A sob tore out of me at how it appeared to be nothing for him to do this to me, that he would do this


    as I yanked my arm when I heard the door open. I turned my head, making me pivot to face it when his


    scent wafted over to me. The King walked in and nced at me and my attempt to escape.


    “Wouldn’t be necessary, but I don’t trust you,” he said while walking over to the bar area. He had a book


    in his hand, and he watched me as he poured himself a drink before setting the book on the coffee table


    and sitting in the armchair.


    “You tried to leave,” he said simply like it exined his harsh treatment. Yet all I could think of was the


    number of times Mrs. Daley trapped or locked us away. I had confinement and was extremely


    ustrophobic. Despite the size of the room, being trapped on the bed and unable to use that hand


    made it feel tiny like the walls were pressing closer and threatening to crush me.


    “You’re scared,” he stated, sipping his drink and watching me over the rim.


    “Let me go, Kyson,” I stammered.


    “Never, Ivy. What part of you are mine did you have trouble understanding? Did you think being fated to


    a King you could just leave and there would be no consequences?” he asked. I red at him. Although


    my sudden anger didn’t stop the tears from sliding down my face or the feeling of unease at being


    trapped. His presence simply made me more nervous. I turned my gaze to the closet before lying back


    down on my side.


    The sound of his ss clinking, being ced on the coffee table, and his footsteps growing nearer told


    me he was walking toward me. “You can’t just leave; the bond won’t allow it, not for me anyway,” he said


    as he came over and stood at the edge of the bed.


    “Then reject me and be done with it,” I told him.


    “Lycans can’t reject their mates. I couldn’t even if I wanted to. And I don’t want to,” he said, though with


    the way he said it, it was like he was trying to convince himself he wanted me. So it was not at all


    promising on my part. Nor did it offer me any form of hope.


    “I will remove the handcuffs when I feel you can be trusted, and right now, through the bond, all I can feel


    is your anger, Ivy. Until I no longer feel it, you will remain handcuffed understood,” The king said firmly,


    like he was scolding a child and not his mate. Words failed me when I felt his fingertips grip my chin and


    tilt my face to look up at him.