The Lycan King and his Dark Temptation novel Chapter 308

KATHERINE

I stared in disbelief at the woman I had thrown out the night before—who, surprisingly, was now walking out of the inner room as if nothing had happened.

“I gave you a very clear order yesterday. What are you doing here?” I asked in a low voice, careful not to make a scene in front of the girl.

“The Duke is the one who hired me, and unless he dismisses me, I’m not going anywhere,” she answered with all the audacity in the world.

The girl started telling me to stop harassing her nanny, saying she was good, that I should just go back to the countryside—but I didn’t hear a word of it.

All I could see was that woman, her eyes filled with confidence and contempt.

“Did you tell the Duke that I asked you to leave, or did you spin some lie?”

“I told him that the lady dismissed me from her service, and he said I should stay to look after the child…”

I didn’t even let her finish. I stormed out of the room like a whirlwind.

He could do whatever he wanted with his damned castle. He could keep his servants from feeding me or let them spit in my face. But when it came to my daughter, NO.

I reached the study where I had seen him drag a man out the day before. I took several deep breaths—one, two, three. Deep and slow. I adjusted the bodice of my dress, trying to steady myself.

I raised my fist to knock, and it landed much harder than it should have.

"You are Rossella. You are Rossella."

Even if you want to sink your teeth into that bastard, you have to act like a duchess.

Footsteps approached, and I waited. I would speak politely—but if he pushed me too far, this Duke was about to learn what it meant to face a woman straight out of a madhouse.

*****

ELLIOT

“… the stored coal will last through the winter, but there have been complaints from the laborers…”

Wallace was speaking, reading the morning reports. Usually, I would be paying attention, but my mind kept wandering back to the same thing, which only soured my mood further.

Why the hell was I thinking so much about that damn harpy?

My wife, the one I had been forced to marry because of that damn old man’s blackmail, was as insignificant to me as the dung in the stables.

And yet, ever since that day she returned from the countryside, I had seen her step out of the carriage through the study window while that thief behind me tried to justify his actions.

I had watched her with nothing but annoyance. I truly wouldn’t have given a damn if she had stayed away forever.

But when she lifted her brown eyes, I had expected to see nothing but her usual deception.

Instead, they looked… surprised. They shone with life. I had tried to convince myself it was just an illusion, another one of her tricks to get my attention.

But last night, after making her wait all that time just because I could… when she bumped into me, when our eyes met again…

Why does she look exactly the same, yet so different in so many ways? Did being close to death make her reinvent herself?

No. No, what a stupid thought… or was it?

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