TRADING MY CHEATING HUSBAND FOR THE LYCAN KING のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 31 - チャプター 40

KNOX'S POVI watch her walk into the elevator, and my wolf tracks every second of her descent like a map burned into my skull.Nathaniel flanks her with all his bulk and scar tissue and lethal competence, and even after the elevator doors close and she vanishes, even after she's gone beyond my line of sight, I can feel the phantom pull of her scent in the room.It lingers in the air like a drug. Like possession. Like a problem I can't solve by looking away.Which is precisely why I need to look away.I turn from the window and cross the penthouse, moving through the space she's started to inhabit.The floor-to-ceiling windows still hold the ghost of what we did at 4 AM. I can picture it too clearly: her palms flat against the glass, her breath fogging the view of the mountains, my hand fisted in her hair while I took her from behind like I was trying to fuck the sanity out of both of us.I didn't kiss her this morning. Not properly.I pressed my lips to her forehead for approximately

KNOX'S POV She cries then, quietly, dabbing at her eyes with a napkin in a way that's clearly practiced but no less real for it.I wait while she composes herself, and when she looks up again, she's smiling with the kind of determination that tells me this isn't over."Will you at least dance with me at the New Year's Eve ball?" she asks. "One dance. That's all. For old times' sake."I should say no. I can feel the trap closing, the way each small concession leads to a larger one.But she's dying, and I'm not quite enough of a monster to refuse a dying woman a single dance."One dance," I say. "In public. With Ember present."She nods like she's won something, and maybe she has.The photographer she hired, sitting three tables away with a telephoto lens, has been capturing every moment of this meeting, and I'm only noticing now because I was too focused on managing the conversation to scan the room properly.Rayana touching my arm. Both of us leaning close. The intimate angles that w

EMBER'S POVThe Council of Elders exists because power unchecked becomes tyranny.I've learned this in the past eighteen hours, piecing together information from Queenie's whispered explanations and Knox's terse answers.Centuries ago, a Lycan King went mad with power and nearly drove our species to extinction.The survivors built institutional restraints. Rules. A council that could file formal complaints, hold hearings, demand accountability from even the man who commands us all.Knox is the undisputed authority in the kingdom. His word is law in most matters. But even he answers to the council when formal complaints are filed.And Gale has filed a formal complaint.I sit in Simone's chair, watching my reflection fracture in the triple mirror as she approaches my hair with a heated iron. Steam rises in delicate clouds.The fear lives in my chest like a cold stone that hasn't shifted since Knox told me about the council meeting.Since he explained what Gale's pack is claiming: that K

EMBER'S POV"Ember, darling." Her voice is honey-sweet, her smile not quite reaching her eyes. "I'm so glad I caught you. I wanted to apologize for those photos. I had absolutely no idea someone was taking pictures—how terrible that it caused drama. I hope you don't think there's anything between Knox and me."She says this with perfect innocence. I know she orchestrated every frame."Why don't we talk privately? Woman to woman. I'd love to clear the air."She guides me to a private alcove before I can refuse, her grip on my elbow gentle but firm.The space is intimate, tucked away from prying eyes, designed for quiet conversations and quieter manipulations.We sit. She studies me with those violet eyes that probably catalogue weaknesses the way other people notice outfits."I want to be honest with you," she says, and her voice drops into something softer, more intimate. "I know you're with Knox now, and I respect that. Truly. But you should understand what you're getting into."I ke

EMBER'S POVHe stands slowly, letting me watch as he strips off his shirt.His chest is magnificent in the otherworldly light, all hard muscle and tattoos I want to trace with my tongue.He works his belt open, his zipper, pushes his pants down just enough to free his cock.It's thick and hard and already leaking for me.He strokes himself once, twice, spreading the precum down his shaft, and my mouth waters."See what you do to me?" he asks, his voice rough. "How hard I am for you?"He steps between my spread thighs, drags the head of his cock through my folds, coating himself in my arousal. The slide is slippery, obscene, and we both groan.He slaps his cock against my clit once, twice, three times—hard, wet smacks that make me jolt and whimper."Beg for it," he demands."Please," I gasp. "Please, Knox, I need you inside me.""Need what inside you?""Your cock," I whine, beyond shame. "I need your cock filling me up."He lines up and slams home in one brutal thrust.The stretch is b