The Lycan King and his Dark Temptation novel Chapter 351

NARRATOR

The girl had subtly placed this sphere in her hand—not the one she had actually touched.

What exactly was Elliot playing at? If this was his doing.

Kath’s eyes caught the moment Brenda entered the hall. She was wearing different clothes.

The Duchess didn’t even want to imagine why she had changed. There was no point denying it—she was drowning in useless, bitter jealousy.

Amid laughter and jokes, Brenda was called to pick in the draw.

A rather defeated thought was forming in Katherine’s mind. She had grown a little tired of pretending for today.

She stood up subtly, slipping through the crowd, taking advantage of the dimmed lights and the shadows that sheltered her.

The pairs began to be announced.

Each time a man called out his number, a soft light illuminated him, and then it was his exchange partner’s turn.

Brenda smelled that woman’s disgusting scent—the Duchess.

She was approaching her position.

She braced herself for a scene. Maybe she was coming to confront her about the fake kiss with the Duke in the library.

What a pathetic woman. She still couldn’t believe Elliot had chosen her instead.

But all she heard was the rustling of a dress.

Before she could turn to defend herself, shielded by the crowd’s excitement, something round was shoved into her hand, catching her off guard.

“Here, I know you’re dying to take my place.” Katherine whispered, leaving her number in Brenda’s hand and, without waiting for a response, slipped away to the back, exiting through the discreet door, straight into the outer corridors and from there, toward the freedom of the gardens.

It took Brenda a few seconds to process what had just happened.

She looked down at the red ball in her hand.

Carefully, she opened it to reveal the small paper inside—number 8, in gold.

Meanwhile, Elliot had lost sight of Katherine. Had she gone to the bathroom? But—right now?

“It’s time for the esteemed Duke of Everhart! Who will be the lucky lady to receive a treasure from the wealthy Duke, one of the richest men in the realm?!”

The light and everyone’s attention turned to him.

He had no choice but to go along with this. Katherine would come forward when she heard her number… he supposed.

“Number 8.” Elliot called out, scanning the other side of the vast hall. It was only a few meters, yet now it felt like an entire world apart.

He searched anxiously, trying to mask the change in his pupils as he scanned the "mysterious" side of the room, filled with gowns, feminine laughter, and suffocating perfumes.

«Baby, where are you?»

“I have number 8.”

Running her fingers through her long hair to smooth it, trying to blend in—just another commoner—she moved step by step along the outskirts of the celebration, near the clearing in the woods.

Beer flowed from barrels into large pints; people laughed, danced, and sang.

Suddenly, the violins picked up an animated rhythm, accompanied by the accordion and flutes, the drums beating with energy.

The crowd went wild, forming a massive circle, hands clasped, legs and arms swinging from side to side—women at the center, men around the outer ring.

For the first time that night, Katherine laughed—genuinely.

She clapped along cheerfully to the rhythm, her legs moving as if with a life of their own. She knew these steps well.

“Would you like to dance, miss?!”

A voice called over the joyful commotion.

Kath turned her head to see a man extending his hand toward her.

He was handsome, young, a little rugged—clearly someone who worked the fields.

She hesitated for a second. Did she want to dance?

Of course, she did.

So she reached out her hand and let herself be led to the center of the raucous festivity, unaware that a certain feral wolf had already picked up her scent and was sprinting through the nocturnal woods—hunting her down.