Page 24 of His Lycan Luna Queen

I shrug—he pulls it down before retrieving his glass, and I press my lips together in disapproval. He moves over to the bed, propping pillows up before sitting down—only then does he see me glaring at him from across the room.

“It’s one glass!” he growls, patting his chest—I raise an eyebrow at him, moving toward the bed and climbing into his lap. When he picks up his glass again, I snatch it from him, gulping down its contents, fighting back an urge to spit out the burning liquid onto his face—it tastes like jet fuel. It’s absolutely disgusting. So disgusting that it must not be whiskey, but something much stronger.

“Well, that’s what you get for stealing my drink,” he says as I cough and sputter. He deposits me beside him, getting up to take the glass back to the bar. Jumping off the bed, I swipe the bottle before he grabs it.

“Azalea, you can’t drink all of that! You’ll be on the floor after barely a quarter!” he growls angrily.

I tip the bottle to my lips already cringing from its strong smell.

“Go on then—I’ll grab it when you pass out,” he says, folding his arms across his chest. I suck in a deep breath, wondering if holding my breath will make it not burn or taste so bad—I chug some down, feeling like I’m drinking lava, and my eyes water before I gasp for air, choking and coughing—it could definitely be used as some kind of fuel. Kyson reaches for the bottle. I snatch it away, and he growls at me, but I growl back at him.

Chapter

Thirteen

AZALEA

“Nope! Every drink you drink, I drink then,” I tell him, a mischievous glint in my eye. In response, he snarls, his canines slipping out.

“And according to my calculations, it will take your entire bar for me to catch up with what you’ve drunk in the last week,” I tell him, a smirk playing on my lips.

“Azalea Ivy-Rose Landeena, give me the damn bottle!” Kyson scolds me like I’m a child, his voice laced with frustration.

“Make me!” I challenge, defiantly swallowing another mouthful of the liquid in question. Surprisingly, it doesn’t burn this time. Maybe I scorched my throat and tongue so badly that it killed the nerves? Nevertheless, the more I drink of it, the easier it goes down until it’s like drinking water. As I reach the quarter mark, as Kyson had mentioned, the room begins to sway slightly. My belly feels queasy, and a wave of heat washes over me. I stumble towards the window, desperate for some fresh air. The fire in my veins makes me feel like I’m overheating.

But the movement is not in my best interest. I stumble, feeling as if my body is weighed down by lead.

“What is this stuff?” I manage to slur out, my words barely coherent.

“Sunset Rum and it is 85% alcohol. You usually mix it. You’re lucky to be standing still with how much you’ve drunk. If you weren’t Lycan, you would be on the floor,” Kyson growls at me, his frustration evident as he reaches for the bottle. But I pull it back before he can snatch it from my grasp.

“Well, on the floor I go!” I retort stubbornly, taking another swig of the potent liquid before he manages to wrestle it away from me. As I sway backward, I don’t even realize I am falling until his strong arms catch me around the waist.

“No more!” he growls, nipping at my neck in a mix of anger and concern.

“I don’t like it when you drink!” I slur, my words muddled by the alcohol coursing through my veins.

“And I don’t like you drinking!” he snaps back, his voice filled with worry. But then, his tone softens. “Fine, I won’t drink, but you don’t either. That was stupid,” he says, placing the bottle on the bar before scooping me up effortlessly. My senses are hazy, and I can’t feel my face or my tongue as I try to feel it between my teeth.

“Azalea, you’ll bite your tongue off!” Kyson snaps, panic lacing his voice as he jams his fingers into my mouth to prevent me from hurting myself.

“What?” I try to speak around his finger, but it invades my mouth. My speech is slurred and incomprehensible. He growls in frustration before suddenly jerking back, sucking on his index finger, which is now bleeding. Confusion washes over me until I see my own teeth marks on his finger.

“I did that?” I manage to utter in disbelief.

“You think?” he retorts sarcastically, shaking his head before guiding me towards the bed. He lays me down gently, but I feel so heavy, weighed down by the effects of the potent drink. Howcould anyone enjoy feeling like this? It’s so disorienting. Kyson moves away from me momentarily, and I struggle to keep my eyes open as darkness threatens to swallow me whole.

“Kyson,” I slur, attempting to roll my head, which feels like a bowling ball on my shoulders.

“I’m just going to chuck another log on the fire.”

I watch him, waiting for him to sneak back to his bar. Surprisingly, he doesn’t. Instead, he climbs back into bed beside me, and I retrieve the book we had been reading earlier. He drags my dead-weight body on top of him before opening the book.

“Don’t do that again,” he whispers, his lips brushing against my forehead. My eyelids feel impossibly heavy as I struggle to stay awake while he reads, but darkness engulfs me after just a few minutes.

The following morning, I am abruptly woken by the mindlink. Damian is trying to wake Kyson, and my head pounds mercilessly. Groggily sitting up, I find Kyson still dead to the world when a knock on the door startles me. Dragging myself from the bed, I answer the door with groggy confusion.

Trey stands on the other side, and I blink up at him, trying to make sense of the situation.

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