Dumping The Ice King His Mini-Tyrant novel Chapter 379

Harrison lifted his head, glancing toward the door.

His vision blurred at the edges, hazy and unfocused. Why couldn’t he see clearly all of a sudden?

He blinked hard, trying to clear his sight. By then, the woman who’d come in was already right in front of him.

“Harrison.”

Felicity’s knees buckled, and she collapsed into his arms.

He tried to push her away, but his hands were bound behind his back—he couldn’t move them at all.

All he could do was awkwardly scoot backward.

Felicity was limp, her body boneless as if all her strength had drained away, slumping against him and starting to slide down.

“Felicity! What are you doing?!”

His voice was sharp, but she only gazed up at him, eyes glazed, clutching her chest. Warm breath ghosted across his face.

“I’m so hot,” she murmured, her voice thick. “My skin... it’s tingling.”

A glacial coldness settled in Harrison’s eyes. “Did you eat or drink something you shouldn’t have?”

Felicity’s mind was foggy. “I just had a little wine…”

“Who gave it to you?” he blurted.

“One of the waiters at the party,” she answered, sniffling. “This room smells... really nice. Sweet, almost.”

At that, Harrison felt as though a bucket of ice water had been dumped over his head, shards of frost stinging his skin.

He held his breath, then after a moment tested the air again. Only then did he catch that sweet, heady scent Felicity had mentioned, drifting lazily through the room.

His stomach dropped. Damn it.

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