(Lucian’s POV)
I don’t like to brag about myself, but I am undoubtedly one of the most powerful beings on this continent.
In my past life, countless ladies admired and revered me. No one dared show me disrespect, and those who did were swiftly cast into the hell of blood. It was because of this that I became the Lycan King.
Yes, Me,
The Lycan King.
And now, I’m locked in a tiny waiting room!
This is the first time in my entire life I’ve ever been locked in a room—especially by a woman!
No one else would dare do this to me, expect her!
I gritted my teeth and knocked on the door of the waiting room, but I could feel the door being pressed from the other side, as if someone was warning me to keep silent. This only fueled my anger.
I heard shouting from outside the room—Ronan, her husband, arguing with her. Then, she reached out through the mindlink—
—“Stay.”
I nearly laughed.
I told you, you will regret this, Violet.
(Violet's POV)
“What was that?” Ronan asked.
I clenched my jaw.
“Lipstick,” I lied instantly, secretly dropped the lipstick I had been holding onto the floor.
“Dropped it earlier. Rolled under something.”
Ronan narrowed his eyes. In the end, he didn’t dwell on my lie. "Let’s just leave it at that."
"Violet, this is your final warning from me. I don't think we have any real conflict — this is just about the right to live in that house. But divorce? Is that really necessary?"
"Stop the divorce proceedings, and go back home. Don’t treat our marriage like a joke—unless you want to see what happens next."
My focus shifted from Luc behind the door back to Ronan. I looked at his stern expression and his disgusted gaze.
"...Do you think I want to divorce you just because of the right to that house?" My voice was soft. "Ronan, could it be that I want to divorce you because of your betrayal?"
"You know why I can’t get pregnant. Every day, every single day, because of your and Elara’s betrayal, my mate bond is almost tearing me apart."
Ronan seemed stunned at first, but when he heard the word "infertility," he quickly adopted a dismissive expression again.
"I told you on our wedding day," he sneered. "—The love I had in my youth was blind, falling for someone like you. I’ve long since lost love for you. You begged me to marry you, that’s why we had a wedding."
He seemed to hate me with every ounce of his being. After throwing those words at me, Ronan turned and began to walk away.
I called out to his retreating figure, "If you hate me so much, why don’t you just agree to the divorce?"
His back stopped for a moment, but he left without answering.
Gone.
But I think I knew the answer — because I could bring benefits to his family.
I stood there, lost my soul, then turned to grab the doorknob, seeing Luc lazily sitting in the chair inside the room.
...How?
...How the hell was I supposed to get a divorce?
My wolf whimpered somewhere deep inside, her voice barely a shadow.
The court is unjust. The Moon Goddess cannot hear my pleas. Perhaps my only remaining hope is to seek out the mysterious Lycan King — but with the vast difference in status between us, where can I find him, and what could I possibly use to gain his help?
That was foolish. Desperate. Ridiculous.
I have to find a way to redeem myself!
"You look upset," Luc repeated his earlier words.
"You’re mistaken. I’m always ready for a fight,"
I replied casually, looking at him puzzled. "Why haven’t you left yet? If you stay too long, will your sugar mommy dock your pay?"
Being able to bring a call boy into the courtroom, his new sugar mommy must be a woman of high status. Maybe one of the women sitting in my jury today. But in any case, it has nothing to do with me.
This time, Lucian didn’t pay attention to my words. Instead, he squinted at me with interest. "So, what's your next move?"
"You should already know, this is a rotting court, full of bureaucracy with no fairness at all — Same as the entire werewolf pack."
I said, "Are you going to say that you want to help me again?"
"Forget it, don't disturb your current sugar mommy because of your ex. This is my own business, and no matter the outcome, I'll fight till the end."
I picked up the lipstick and touched up the last bit of my lips in front of the mirror. As I was about to put the lipstick back in my bag, suddenly, my wrist was grabbed.
Our faces were close, our breaths almost mingling together.
"...You're quite an interesting woman, Violet," Luc said with a low laugh.
Before I could say anything, his lips were on mine.
A deep kiss. Unlike the usual call boy Luc, his tongue invaded my mouth almost forcefully.
Its touch clung to me, forcing me into suffocating intimacy. I fought back, trying to clamp my teeth down for a bite. But it didn’t stop.
The metallic tang of blood spread through our kiss, making me grimace before I shoved it away hard.
My resistance seemed utterly insignificant to Luc. He released me, licked the blood from the corner of his lips, and a strange, predatory glint flashed in his eyes—one I didn’t recognize.
Then he lowered his head and let out a soft laugh, looking down at me with an air of careless arrogance.
The furious words on my tongue stalled as I took him in.
My Luc—my sweet, eager call boy—was supposed to be warm and tender. But the man standing before me, though identical in appearance, was nothing like him.
He was... mysterious. Dangerous?
I parted my lips to speak, but a sharp sting of pain stopped me.
“...damn it!”
I touched my lips and found a small cut at the corner from the rough kiss. The lipstick I’d just applied was nearly all smeared off.
“Luc, how dare you—!”
But just then, another figure appeared at the lounge door, cutting me off.
A man stepped inside, suited and sharp, papers in his hand. Mid-thirties. Clean-shaven. Regal, but not noble.
Military posture. Subtle dominance.
And the moment he saw Luc, he dropped his chin slightly.
“Your Ma—”
Luc raised his hand swiftly. The man stopped mid-word, blinking.
"This is payback for how you treated me before." He looked down at me, his voice low. "I’ve changed my mind, Violet. I won’t be offering you my help anymore. In fact…"
"What?" I snapped.
Luc smirked—a slow, razor-sharp curl of his lips—before leaning in just close enough for his breath to brush my ear.
"...I’ll be waiting for the moment you beg me to help you."