The Lycan King and his Dark Temptation novel Chapter 404

KATHERINE

So I did it.

Taking a deep breath, I grasped the tassel in my hand and pulled the rope downward.

Track, track, track!

"Ah!" I let out a yelp and jumped back, startled, as an old wooden ladder dropped from the ceiling with a loud clatter.

A cloud of dust immediately engulfed the hallway, making me cough almost to the point of choking. I waved my hand in front of my face, trying to clear the air.

When I finally refocused, I saw the dark hole that had opened above.

It was unsettling, as if unseen eyes might be watching me from the shadows. I lowered my gaze to the ladder now hanging before me. The steps looked worn, termites crawling over the decaying wood.

Yet, something inside me urged me forward, the same instinct that had led me to follow Francis—a powerful magic tugging at my soul.

I decided to take the risk and climb.

With slight disgust, I placed my hands on the wooden supports, lifted my boot, and made sure I wouldn’t fall at the first step.

Slowly, I ascended, uneasy with how the rotting wood groaned beneath me. The stench of decay and dampness suffocated me, growing stronger the higher I climbed toward what seemed to be an attic.

Large mansions often had storage spaces for old junk.

"Cough, cough, cough," I sputtered, reaching out with one hand as I finally hoisted myself up the last stretch.

My head and part of my torso emerged from the attic floor into the gloomy space.

Propping myself on my elbows, I pushed up onto my toes.

"Ugh, more filth," I muttered irritably, patting the soot and dust off my thighs and arms.

Then, I focused on my surroundings. Just as I suspected, an attic full of boxes and furniture covered in sheets.

I started to explore, feeling an uneasy restlessness.

Strange shuffling noises echoed around me, the sound of tiny feet scurrying. In the corners, rats darted like shadows across the floor, sending chills through my body.

I hated rats, especially after having to fight them for a stale piece of bread back in the sanatorium.

As my eyes adjusted to the darkness, I noticed a faint light up ahead and ventured deeper into this labyrinth of forgotten things.

Many of them were familiar—furniture from our old countryside home.

Father never let us enter, but something always called to us there, and we would sneak in, spending hours inside whenever he left for the fields.

I ran my hand over the wooden shelves, surprised to find they weren’t even dusty—probably because the doors had kept them protected.

"What exactly am I looking for?"

I crouched to check the lower compartments—nothing, just some tattered clothes. Then, a glint caught my eye. Still in a squat, I lifted my gaze.

At my exact height, in the back panel, something shone—a tiny flicker of light, like a final spark meant to catch my attention before fading away.

I hesitated but reached my hand inside, feeling around.

"Ah!" I recoiled instantly when something sharp pricked my fingertip.

I looked at my hand—blood trickled down from the tiny wound. No sooner had this happened than I heard a distinct click.

A hidden mechanism had been triggered. A small wooden panel slid aside at the wardrobe’s base, revealing a secret compartment.

"What in the world is this mystery?" I leaned in closer. Something lay inside, its dark silhouette barely visible in the shadows.

I hesitated for a moment, debating what to do ... Then, I made my choice.