The Lycan King and his Dark Temptation novel Chapter 334

NARRATOR

She even gave him a once-over, her gaze stopping blatantly on his crotch.

Elliot stared at her in disbelief before bursting into laughter, drawing a few glances their way.

Katherine smirked subtly.

She had never seen him laugh like that before—he looked so damn sexy without that usual grumpy, superior air.

So, the ice man actually had a sense of humor sometimes. Elliot coughed a little, regaining control of himself.

She was so unpredictable, like a breath of fresh air in his life, filled with secrets and fears. She had no idea how, day by day, she was slipping further away from the role of Rossella.

The real Duchess had been prissy, full of insecurities, rigid—not like this new Duchess, who had him completely captivated with her sensuality and spirit.

He wanted to tell her he was dying to make love to her like never before, but the shadow of what had happened yesterday still loomed over him.

What if he lost control with her again? What if he hurt her… and was discovered?

He opened his mouth to give her a seductive response, then shut it again in frustration.

The driver snapped the reins, and the caravan set off.

Their wagon was the last in line, swaying as it rolled over the dirt paths, cutting through fields and villages.

They both fell into silence.

Elliot reached out and took his wife’s smaller hand in his, squeezing it, lazily tracing over her skin with his finger while watching the sky and the road fading behind them.

"If only I knew your secrets. Who are you? What are you hiding? Why are you pretending to be Rossella? Why do you look exactly like her?"

If he could uncover the truth, he would feel more confident about exposing himself to her.

With leverage in his hands, he might dare—secret for secret.

Elliot decided to wait. He would bide his time.

Meanwhile, Katherine gave him a scornful look.

Damn Duke. He had riled her up again.

She had even provoked him, and just when she thought he was about to suggest consummating their marriage as soon as they reached the castle, he simply sat there staring at the birds.

At this rate, they’d be holding hands like virgins forever.

This wouldn’t stand. She had made up her mind.

One way or another, she would learn what Nana had tried to teach her—she would bewitch him, fuck him, and drain him dry.

*****

BAM!

The office door flew open.

"Mr. Wallace, I received a report that someone spotted a woman resembling the Duchess at the market fair!"

"WHAT?!" Wallace shot up from his desk.

"Call Vittorio immediately! Someone needs to track that woman, but Alonso—discreetly. Take only a small group of guards. Don’t tell anyone else."

He lowered his voice as the man rushed out, thousands of thoughts racing through his mind.

No one could know that the Duke had left the duchy. In fact, almost no one even knew about the accident he had suffered.

In his urgency, he didn’t even stop to question the absurdity of the Duchess wandering around… the market?

He strode out of his office with purpose, only to come face-to-face with the housekeeper, who was carrying a tray.

"What?!… Mr. Wallace!"

The Duchess shot up from her seat, feigning shock.

"Duchess Rossella, you are under suspicion of orchestrating a trap against the Duke! You are hereby arrested by His Lordship’s guards and will be taken to the Black Dungeons to confess! WHERE IS THE DUKE OF EVERHART?!" he roared, stepping toward her menacingly.

Rossella took a step back, her eyes filled with panic.

"I… I didn’t… no…" she stammered, but her frightened expression shifted in an instant—her lips curling into a taunting smirk.

"The only one getting arrested here is you, you treacherous rat. Did you really think you had found the perfect scapegoat? Don’t you dare pin your filthy deeds on me!"

"How dare you?! Arrest this traitor immediately! Guards! GUARDS! ARE YOU ALL DEAF?!"

Wallace turned in disbelief and fury, realizing that the men were standing still—not moving forward.

In fact, they were surrounding him.

"Vittorio, what the hell is going on?!"

He glared at the battle-hardened man, his face unreadable yet imposing.

"I only answer to Lord Elliot Everhart Viscount, Duke of Everhart," Vittorio said with open disdain.

Wallace couldn’t comprehend the look of disappointment and disapproval in his eyes.

"The Duke isn’t here! Can’t you see this woman is the prime suspect?!"

"Who said the Duke isn’t here?"

Suddenly, a cold, deep voice made him go rigid.

He turned his gaze back to the Duchess, who now wore a victorious smirk—the kind that said: You’re finished.