The Lycan King and his Dark Temptation novel Chapter 380

NARRATOR

Aldo never thought he’d live to witness something so extraordinary.

The massive wall of ice and rock, which had blocked his and Tomás’s escape, was no obstacle for a Lycan.

He looked up, watching as Elliot climbed with sheer brute strength.

His clawed feet dug deep into the ice, carving out grips as he propelled himself upward.

Strapped to his back, secured in a makeshift sack fashioned from the bloodied, tattered clothes of the corpses left behind in the previous battle, was the unconscious girl—the housekeeper’s precious daughter.

She hadn’t been able to withstand the agonizing “adjustments” the laborer had inflicted on her to ensure she wouldn’t betray them.

Aldo watched as Elliot reached the top, then leaped into the void, clearing a deadly stretch in a single bound, disappearing from sight.

So much power.

He could only hope the Duke would save his mate—because if that powerful creature lost his companion in a violent way, he would unleash chaos upon this realm.

*****

KATHERINE

"FASTER!" I shouted at the rider steering the horse.

I clung to his waist, struggling not to fall during this dizzying ride back home.

My mind was in a frantic haze after hearing the butler’s confession.

True or not, I had to return to the castle immediately—my daughter, my Lavinia, was in danger.

His exhausted words, his body barely clinging to life, had shaken me to my core:

«"I trusted her. I told her about everyday things—not political secrets, but the danger was in the details.

For example, I complained to her about you, about how you knew the hiding places in the silos, how you suspected the southern administrators were stealing.

She asked subtle questions, encouraged my frustrations, and like a fool, I told her everything she wanted to know.

That’s how she learned about your inspection with the Duke. She understood you were a threat to their plans—maybe that’s why they attacked you.

The carriage… I should have seen it coming. I supervised everything except the final delivery day.

I suddenly felt sick, feverish, dizzy, and she ‘kindly’ said she would handle finding someone trustworthy to retrieve it—probably her son.

That day, they must have installed the trapdoor under ‘my orders.’ I never verified with the carpenter. I trusted her completely—I fell right into her trap. I was the perfect scapegoat.

Mrs. Prescott, the housekeeper, is the real traitor."»

"OUT OF THE WAY, MOVE, MOVE! HYA, HYA!" The escort shouted at the pedestrians in the streets, forcing them to leap aside to avoid being trampled.

"We’re almost there, Duchess! Stay calm, we’re nearly there!" They tried to reassure me, but all I could hear was the relentless pounding of hooves against the pavement, hammering in sync with my racing heart.

I lifted my head and saw the towering castle against the mountains, growing closer—yet it still felt like a world away.

A dreadful premonition clutched my chest. Dark clouds loomed in the sky.

*****

NARRATOR

"Where’s my mama? Why are you taking me to this weird place?" Lavinia asked, puzzled.

"Your sister spent a fortune making herself look good to seduce the general. Once she marries—"

"That bastard’s a miser, I know it! I thought you had stashed away more valuable things!"

"What did you expect?! That I’d just steal the Duchess’s jewels outright?!" Mrs. Prescott shrieked in a furious outburst.

But then, both of them fell silent.

Their minds churned with the same realization.

"Take the brat downstairs. I’m going to loot that idiot’s room—" Francis bent down to lift Lavinia, preparing to hand her off to his mother.

"No, no, Francis, I’m scared. We don’t know when she’ll return, or if the guards are with her. Let’s go, let’s just go, son."

Her cold fingers clutched at his shirt, but Francis shoved her into the narrow passage and dumped Lavinia, still unconscious, onto her lap.

"I’ll be quick. Wait for me at the swamp exit. Go, don’t waste more time—damn it!" he ordered before bolting toward the Duchess’s quarters to steal what he could.

Meanwhile, on the first floor of the castle…

"Mrs. Prescott?"

Laura, one of the housekeeper’s closest assistants, knocked on the door of her room.

Knock, knock, knock.

She had forgotten to ask about the breakfast menu before rushing off to handle the servants.

"Mrs. Prescott? Are you in there?"

On her final knock, the door creaked open with a sound that sent chills down the maid’s spine. Would the housekeeper be angry if she stepped inside?