The Lycan King and His Dark Temptation Novel

I could almost feel the darkness swirling around him, casting a black veil of shadows.

"Silas, what are you doing here so late?" I asked cautiously, bracing myself for any violent reaction.

"Who is she?" His voice was a low growl, dripping with a dark resentment I had never heard from him before.

I sighed, removing my heavy cloak and draping it over her. When it settled on her shoulders, she went rigid.

“M-Mistress…” she whispered, her red, tear-filled brown eyes peeking out from beneath long lashes. My heart ached for her.

"As long as you're loyal and obedient, I won't treat you poorly. Do you understand?" I said coolly, ensuring I did not speak to her as if she were merely a possession.

She nodded, though not convincingly. She probably did not believe me. It did not matter. I would keep her as my personal maid or something similar—pretending to care while ensuring her safety. At this rate, I was destined to run a refuge, but I simply could not turn a blind eye.

“Come on,” I ordered, and as I turned to ascend the grand staircase, I realized someone was waiting at the top. I lifted my gaze, knowing it was Silas, even cloaked in the shadows of the night, the moon barely glimmering in the sky.

I was startled for a moment by the seething hatred in his eyes. But he was not looking at me; his gaze was fixed on the new slave. The dark magic within him was out of control—raging, suffocating, cold, and laced with bloody, murderous intent.

She caressed my face like a loving mother, and for a brief moment, our eyes locked. I could not discern if she had figured me out—perhaps she had not—but regardless, I did not trust this cunning witch one bit.

“Take her with me and cover her up. I don’t like everyone staring at my belongings,” I ordered coldly to one of Morgana's servants, who then dragged the weeping girl away, finally liberating me from the worst dinner of my life.

Just before I stepped out, I heard the cries of two babies and glanced back to see Morgana approaching some nannies carrying two small bundles. She took them, one in each arm, and for the first time, I saw her express even a hint of warmth.

I had forgotten that Morgana had two heirs. After violating so many elementals and killing countless failed little ones, she had finally produced her perfect twins.

“Leave her here. You can go,” I dismissed Morgana's slave as soon as we arrived at my inner courtyard. They had barely thrown a sheer, translucent robe over the girl—because that’s what she was to me, just a girl. She shivered violently, her teeth chattering from the cold.