Claimed by My Enemy Alpha Mate
His hands kept working, adding layers of bandages as if he couldn’t stop.
His silver hair brushed against my face, soft like silk. But his hands, wrapped around my waist, trembled.
“Oh, Klaus, you never fail to entertain me,” Lyle sneered from across the room, watching like a satisfied spectator. He spared a glance at the dying king, then sauntered over, lifting his head arrogantly.
“Long time no see, my dear King Hommes,” Lyle’s gaze locked onto the king’s pale, terrified face.
“You... Lyle?” The king’s eyes darted from Klaus to Lyle, his expression shifting to realization as he murmured Lyle’s name. Panic set in, and he turned to Klaus, yelling, “Kill him! Klaus! I command you to kill him!