The Lycan King and his Dark Temptation novel Chapter 238

NARRATOR

When Alessandre arrived and saw the scene illuminated by lightning, his soul nearly escaped from his chest.

He never imagined Renata could be in such danger.

The intoxicating scent of her blood had drawn him—he’d slipped away from that ridiculous party to follow her trail, only to discover this brutal fight.

Without wasting a second, he instinctively kicked Electra.

Ally or not, she wasn’t going to threaten his mate.

Sigrid didn’t have time to dodge; she felt the sharp pain slam into her right ribs, screamed in agony, and crashed into the mud-soaked, filthy ground.

The rain continued washing the blood from their bodies, the wind howled with ferocity, and the only chance at victory had slipped from her grasp.

"Wait, Renata! What the hell are you doing?!" Sigrid lifted her head just in time to see Alessandre stopping in front of Renata, starting to argue.

"Oh, what? You came to protect your fiancée?! Since I asked for time, you decided to find yourself a replacement in the meantime!" Renata slapped him hard, her eyes blazing with hatred.

When she found out about this party to find her mate a partner, she nearly lost her mind with rage and jealousy.

Even more so when she saw him lurking in the shadows, choosing that damn witch.

Their situation was extremely delicate: the Selenias were powerful, yes, they held the throne, of course—but at great cost.

They were far too few, barely three of them left, while the rest of the supernatural beings multiplied endlessly, slow but steady.

The battles for the throne grew bolder, the conspiracies less secret, and her mate belonged to a family that coveted the crown the most—the Vlads, the vampire elite.

Their families opposed, their relationship forbidden, their wills bound, struggling between the love in their hearts and their duty to their lineage and race.

"She’s helping me cover for us! I did it to protect you, so our parents wouldn’t keep interfering!" Alessandre grabbed her by the shoulders, shaking her hard.

Renata was stubborn; once she closed off, she was worse than a mule, her intelligence sinking to her feet.

But she understood—through the passing storm and cooling rage, she realized she hadn’t even given her mate a chance to explain his improvised plan.

And she realized something much more complex and profound.

Her gaze shifted toward Sigrid, who had crawled to the man lying in the mud, dying.

"Silas, wake up, wake up, please, I’m begging you!" Tears streamed down Sigrid’s face, her hands pressed to Silas’s chest, giving him the last of her power, neglecting her own wounds to heal him.

Green, life-infused energy spread across his blackened skin, the veins like dark spiderwebs visible beneath patches of pallor.

Silas’s face—Goddess, his face looked completely burned, his eyes closed, though Sigrid imagined both orbs were tainted.

Verify captcha to read the contentVerify