The Lycan King and his Dark Temptation novel Chapter 321

ELLIOT

"ROSELLA!" I roared with even more urgency, a sinister premonition assaulting my senses.

I ran toward her scent and then… that suffocating, intense smell of iron.

Before I reached her, I saw her stepping out from the shadow of the trees—her pale skin, trembling lips, and disheveled hair.

My eyes dropped, stunned.

Her hands… her hands clutched the hilt of a weapon, buried deep in her chest.

"NOOOO!" I bellowed, rushing toward her.

She tried to take steps toward me, staggering, stumbling forward.

I caught her midair in my arms; the coldness of her skin clenched my fears. I lifted her immediately, afraid to touch her chest, feeling her life slipping away with each breath.

I sat on the ground, near the precipice, my back to the forest.

"No, no, Rosella, you can't do this to me, you can't! Damn it!" My fingers reached for that damned weapon.

When did this happen? How could I be so careless?

"I… I'm sorry…"

"Don't talk, don't talk, baby, damn it, no, no…" I bent over her dirt-streaked face, my salty tears wetting her skin. I shut my eyes tight, desperate.

So many times, I had wished for her death, and now that I held her in my arms, dying, about to be freed from my chains, I refused it with every fiber of my being.

I felt like I was dying with her—something inside me fought harder than ever to break free.

A sharp pain exploded in my mind.

"Feed my female… feed my female… blood… blood… my blood…" An otherworldly, furious voice roared over and over inside my head.

I knew it was my wolf. I knew it. But I lacked the knowledge to release him. No one had ever taught me, and now I needed him more than ever.

"Rossella, Rossella, look at me, baby, look at me. Don't close your eyes. Don't you dare close them!" Her hand fell lifelessly onto the grass, her eyelids shutting completely.

I had to save her—no matter what.

I took the risk, even if someone saw me, and followed my instincts.

My canines elongated in my mouth. I tore open the veins in my wrist, and immediately, the powerful life force flowed.

With my other hand, I pried open her mouth, forcing her chin with my fingers.

I brought the “medicine” to her pale lips.

"Drink, Rosella, come on, Duchess, don’t you say you love me, that you’ll obey me in everything? I command you to live—your Duke commands you to live…"

I pressed my forehead to hers.

I looked toward the dagger. I was afraid to pull it out—but it had to be done.

Still holding her, my arm beneath her back stretched, my hand gripping the hilt firmly.

Sweat beaded on my forehead. I watched her—she was devouring, sucking ravenously, replenishing her lost blood.

Without thinking further, in one swift motion, I yanked out the dagger that had nearly taken her life.

"Mmmgggrr," she moaned muffled against my wrist, jolting.

Her face twisted in an expression of agonizing pain, beads of sweat and tears falling as she whimpered, briefly pausing her feeding.

"Don't cry, don't cry, baby, it won’t hurt anymore, just drink to heal, stay calm, Rosella, calm down, baby…"

I couldn't help but kiss her forehead, stroke her damp cheeks, and then press her to drink again—to distract her mind.

I pressed my hand firmly over her chest, applying compression, but the bleeding was slowing.

I held her tightly against me, pressing my lips to the crown of her tangled hair, full of leaves.

Not wanting to think about the madness I had just committed, praying that she was truly unconscious, that she wouldn't remember.

I don’t think Rossella knows my secret—though I’m not sure. But this… this would expose me completely. I don't know how much time passed—seconds, minutes.

Me, sitting on the ground with her on top of me, both of us reeking of blood and nearly of death.