Filed to story: The Lycan King's Treasured Luna (Narine & Sargis) Book PDF Free
I didn’t even know what “Im Sireli” meant. But the way he said it stirred something in me.
I let my gaze drop to the band-aid he was carefully applying to my hand, watching as he smoothed it down with deliberate precision. Each stroke of his fingers was gentle yet filled with a kind of tenderness that stirred something deep within me, making an unfamiliar tightness constrict my throat.
How much power do I actually hold over him? To what lengths would he go for me, really? A part of me desperately wanted to believe him and longed to embrace the possibility that someone could genuinely care enough to fight for me, to stand by my side like he had proclaimed, and that, truly, like he had said, I was his mate.
But that part of me was buried beneath layers of disbelief. I didn’t know how to trust anymore. I didn’t think I could. Because what happens if I reach out and the ground crumbles beneath me again?
I looked up at him then, watching how he was focused and how his brows furrowed in concentration.
And I felt it again.
That unwanted, terrifying flicker of warmth in my chest.
“All done,” he murmured, more to himself than to me. He leaned back slightly, gathering the blood-soaked cotton. He stood. Then his gaze shifted down to meet mine.
“You’re not going to do anything… you’re not supposed to, are you?” he asked, his tone was serious.
A smile tugged at the corners of my mouth before I quickly schooled my expression, looking away.
I shook my head wordlessly.
He narrowed his eyes suspiciously, and somehow that simple gesture made something flutter inside me. God, he looked… cute, with his jaw slightly clenched and his eyes narrowing into slits like he was trying to read my soul.
“All right,” he said after a pause. “I’ll trust you.”
Then he turned and disappeared into the bathroom.
I blinked in disbelief, a sudden realization washed over me. Did I really just think he was cute? The idea felt absurd, as if it had been pulled from some romantic comedy rather than my actual life.
No. Absolutely not. I quickly shook my head, dismissing the thought with a surge of defiance. I refused to entertain that notion for even a second.
This had to be a side effect of the near-death experience I had just endured, my mind was clearly playing tricks on me. Yes, that was it, surely I was just delusional from adrenaline and impending danger. There was no other explanation for this bizarre line of thinking.
He reappeared moments later, and I tensed when I saw something monstrous in his hand. The look on my face must’ve given me away, because he chuckled.
“It’s a steam mop,” he gestured, twitching his lips in amusement as he held it up like a peace offering.
I watched in stunned silence as he began mopping up the blood splatters around the room. He paused, then he rolled up his sleeves.
Dear god. I didn’t mean to stare, but the way his forearms flexed as he moved, and the muscles shifted under skin, and the veins ran down like intricate patterns.
He looked… hot.
I tore my gaze away from him, and a blush crept across my cheeks, mortified by my own reaction. What the hell is wrong with you? I scolded myself inwardly, the voice of my conscience echoing in my mind. The man had just saved your life, and yet here I was, practically swooning over him, ogling his damn arms like a schoolgirl with a crush.
Yet, despite the gravity of the situation, I found myself unable to shake the image of those powerful arms, muscles rippling under his shirt as he cleaned the mess I had created. It was a reaction I couldn’t quite rationalize, my heart raced as I thought of him, a king of the Lycans, typically a figure of ferocity, now doing something so mundane as cleaning up after my mess, completely without the dramatic flair I would’ve expected. It was bewildering. Who would have thought that a ruler of such enigmatic strength would stoop so low, attending to the mess of my life personally?
A rare sight indeed.
I let myself sink into the bed, finally giving in to the exhaustion that had been threatening to drag me under. My eyelids grew heavier with each blink, and the steady whir of the mop was comforting in the background.
NARINE’S POV
Two more months have slipped by since that fateful day, yes, the one we all know too well. In that time, the landscape of my life has shifted once more. Physically, I felt like a new person. My health had significantly improved, I could see and feel the changes in my body. The gauntness that had once defined me was starting to fade, and I noticed a gradual increase in my weight. It was a small victory, but a welcome one nonetheless. The drips and injections had been cut back significantly, though I still hadn’t felt my wolf stir. Maravek said it would take another three months or so before my body would be strong enough for the awakening.
Not that I planned to be here that long.
Sargis continued to be as attentive and caring as ever. Ever since that day, he hadn’t let me be alone without either him or Hasmik hovering close by. Their vigilance was oddly comforting, yet it also felt a bit stifling at times.
On a more positive note, I had finally reached the point where I could keep down solid food, and my appetite had surged to an almost insatiable level. The tantalizing aromas from the meals often made my mouth water, and each meal became a small celebration of my improving health. Communication was still minimal, but it was better, electronically. Whenever I found myself in need of assistance with tasks I couldn’t manage on my own, all I had to do was express my request and without question, they were attended to promptly, almost as though they anticipated my every thought.
However, despite the royal care and attention I received, the room around me had begun to feel increasingly confining, like a gilded cage that separated me from the outside world. Every day spent here, trapped within these luxurious walls, only strengthened my resolve to escape.
I would always be grateful for the kindness I’d been shown here, but I needed to get my life back together, on my own.
It was currently a few minutes past 2 p.m. I’d just had a light potato chip, and now Hasmik sat curled on the leather sofa nearby, typing furiously into her phone with a look of total concentration.
I smiled faintly to myself.
There was something about Hasmik, so effortlessly calm, confident, and warm. She radiated quiet strength. The kind that didn’t need to be loud to be seen. She didn’t overstep, over-talk, or force herself into spaces I wasn’t ready to share. She just made sure I was comfortable. It made me wonder, painfully, what life might’ve felt like if I’d had someone like her growing up.
But she was also the single greatest obstacle to my escape. She was always there, and that’s a problem. I tore my gaze away from her and turned back to the anime playing on the smart TV. “Demon Slayer,” a show I hadn’t even known existed until I once woke up to the sound of Sargis watching it on low volume. I’d been groggy and irritated… until my eyes adjusted, and I saw the animation. The colors, music, and the way the characters fought for something, even when they were broken, instantly piqued my interest.
Now I was halfway through the third season. But I couldn’t concentrate today.
I popped another piece of popcorn into my mouth and chewed absently.
Every scenario I’d rehearsed in my head, asking casually to go for a walk, to see another room, or to feel the sun, sounded ridiculous the moment it formed in my head.
Two whole months and I’d made exactly zero progress. I was suffocating.
Then the door swung open.
I turned instinctively and froze.
Sargis stepped in, looking… disheveled. His hair was slightly tousled, and his jacket was unbuttoned like he’d just pulled it on in a rush. But the moment his eyes landed on me, he smiled. That easy, almost boyish smile that made something uneasy twist in my stomach.
I looked away, fast.
I hadn’t been able to meet his eyes in weeks.
There was something about them that were too intense. They unsettled me. I couldn’t tell if it was the way they searched me, or the fear that if I stared too long, I might start to believe in them.
“Hey,” he greeted warmly.
He always did. Cheerfully, if I may add.
“I’m here too, you know,” Hasmik drawled sarcastically, not looking up from her phone. “A little acknowledgment would be nice, Your Majesty.”
“Didn’t think you even noticed I walked in, with the way you’ve been smashing that screen.” Sargis retorted.
She snorted. “You’re just jealous you don’t have reflexes like mine.”
“Game addict,” he teased.
I watched them trade jabs like siblings, their banter was so effortless and warm it almost hurt to watch. They’d known each other long enough to be free with one another. To tease without second-guessing every word.
It made something twist deep in my chest, thinking back to Levon. What would it have been like to grow up with that? Someone teasing me into laughter, calling me out on my sulks, and throwing a pillow at me just to see me smile?
I’d never know, and Sargis would never know how lucky he was to have that.
“Anyway,” Hasmik sighed dramatically as she stood and gathered her things, “I made sure she’s well-fed and cozy. You’re welcome.”
She turned to me. “Bye, Narine. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay? And if you ever want to ditch the gloomy Alpha and just goof off or escape this palace-sized prison, I’m the girl.”
I averted my gaze. I hated being put on the spot like that. It was jarring.
“You’re so cute when you try to ignore affection,” she murmured with a grin, then disappeared through the door.
“Sooo…” he drawled, “How was your day?”
He always asked me that. Like it was our thing and I never answered but…
