The Lycan King's Forbidden Craving - Chapter 162: Chapter 162

Lylah blinked, stunned by his words. Her eyes met his.
“You came because of the woman in my chamber, didn’t you?”
“No. I said I was just passing by.”
“I can hear your heartbeat, Lylah,” he countered, calm but direct.
She cursed inwardly. “Do whatever you want.”
“I will. Goodnight.” He gave a short smile, turned, and began to walk away.
“You’re really going to sleep with her?!” she blurted, unable to stop herself.
Lucas halted. He clasped his hands behind his back before slowly turning to face her. “What if I am?”
Her throat felt tight. She glanced away, eyes burning. “Sure. You don’t care anyway… So… you can do whatever you want.”
“Really?”
“Yes. Maybe I’ll finally stop imagining things once you’ve taken her. It’s the full moon, after all. It makes sense. You’re the Grand Lord—why should anything else matter?”
“You sound upset.”
“I’m not.”
“Then why are you shaking?” he asked, his voice quieter now.
She looked down at her trembling hands, lips parting slightly. Her eyes watered, tongue clicking against the roof of her mouth as she tried to keep it all in.
God, she hated this.
This wasn’t what she promised herself.
“Whatever. I’m leaving.” She turned abruptly, hugging her arms to herself.
She barely got three steps away when his strong hand caught her arm and pulled her back.
She gasped, eyes locking with his cold, unreadable ones. His jaw was clenched, his frown deep.
“You’re crying,” he said softly.
“Let go,” she breathed, voice trembling. Why were her emotions betraying her like this?
“Why?”
“So I can go find a wall and smash my head against it to bring my sanity back!” she snapped, then added in a quieter voice, “Why the hell did I start liking you?”
His expression darkened. The cold in his gaze deepened
When the female stepped into his chamber—prepared, scented with honey, silky smooth skin and a ready moist clit—Lucas didn’t glance at her. Instead, his gaze remained on the door, as if waiting for it to open.
For the past few full moons, little wolf had been the first to get here. Just when he thought she wasn’t going to come, he scented her by the door and knew she was listening.
Waiting for her reaction, he ordered the female to strip, and after a few seconds, Lylah’s scent began to fade.
Before he could stop himself, he was by the door staring at a pair of brown eyes brimming with tears of anger.
When she left, he didn’t hesitate to tell the half-naked female to leave.
He wasn’t sure at first if Lylah’s recent actions were because of how close he had been to her. But now it was clear.
But… one thing he couldn’t explain was why her scent changed on the full moon.
Take her!
Lucas yanked his hand away at the growl that echoed deep in his chest.
Lylah stared at him, confused—but she didn’t stop. She needed to get it out. The words had been sitting in her throat for days.
“I like you, my Lord. A lot,” she whispered.
Lucas said nothing.
“I’m sorry. I just thought I’d let you know—”
She stopped when he stepped closer, his scent overwhelming her, thick and consuming.
His midnight eyes locked onto hers—and something shifted. They turned flat, dead. A chill slid down her spine.
He had only looked at her like that once before—during their first sparring session. That same dangerous, unblinking stare. She never thought she’d see it again.
“I’m not the kind of male you should fall for, little wolf,” he muttered, his voice low and grave. “The darker part of me would break you.”
“B–break me?” she echoed, barely breathing.
He gave a slow nod. “You’d shatter.”
Her heart dropped.
“I’m not gentle,” he went on. “There’s a face I see—every time I touch another. I’m a rejected male. A broken one. And there’s a sick part of me…” he trailed off, gaze hardening. “A part that enjoys it when they scream as her mount and break them. The harder they cry, the quieter the demons in my head become.”
Lylah swallowed, eyes wide. What face? Could he mean his ex-mate?
“She is in my head. The rejection plays like a broken record, and to stop it, I end up making the female beneath me wrecked. They’d cry for me to let go, and I still don’t stop. Is that what you want?”
He took another dangerous step closer, voice terrifying low. “Me… lost. You beneath me, praying I remember your name?”
She swallowed hard, the image his words painted flashing through her mind—and it only made the lump in her throat worse. She couldn’t speak.
“My softness shouldn’t fool you, little wolf,” he said, his voice low and steady. “I’m no fairy tale. Especially not when the demons I’ve kept caged have gone hungry for too long.”
His eyes flashed gold as he took another step closer. He leaned to her ear and whispered in a husky voice,
“Especially when those demons are beginning to crave you…”