The Lycan King and his Dark Temptation romance Capítulo 7

VALERIA

With that pressure weighing on my shoulders and trying not to focus on the fact that he was only wearing boxers, I began testing the clothing options I had selected.

“Hmm, too plain… The gray matches his eyes, but not the pants… This detail doesn’t work…”

I was so absorbed in holding the garments against him, measuring and matching, that I hadn’t realized I was voicing my thoughts out loud.

“This one looks too short… Would this belt fit you?” I asked, suddenly raising my head—and immediately realizing how close we were.

I was practically pressed against the King.

A drop of water from his damp hair fell onto my lips, and the way this Lycan was staring at me made my heart race uncontrollably.

Everything about this screamed danger.

What exactly am I doing?

“I— I apologi—”

“Try it on me. Let's see how it fits,” he cut me off, spreading his arms wide.

The gesture was clear: Come and test it yourself.

Swallowing hard, I stepped closer, gripping the leather belt tightly as I wrapped it around his waist.

It was impossible not to brush against his bare skin.

The tip of my nose barely grazed his solid chest, from which that intoxicating wine scent radiated so strongly.

As my fingers worked to adjust the belt, I could have sworn I heard a low growl rumbling above my head.

I could feel him inhaling my scent—or maybe it was just my paranoia acting up.

I gulped nervously, struggling to focus on the task while he remained perfectly still, offering no assistance whatsoever.

“It… it seems to fit,” I murmured, my voice shaky.

“You need to fasten the buckle to be sure,” he challenged, his voice even lower. He's not even wearing pants, why am I fastening the buckle?!

But I kept my frustrations to myself and forced my trembling hands to finish the task, securing the belt around his waist.

Which was nearly impossible, considering the hard, unmistakable outline beneath his boxers was far too prominent—and far too close for me to ignore.

That rich scent of wine was making me lightheaded.

“Yes, this one… this one is definitely the right choice,” I declared, exhaling a shaky breath of relief. “Do you like this outfit, Sir?”

I stepped back immediately, retreating to safer ground.

“If you like it, then it’s fine. I hate those formal robes. The more comfortable the clothes, the better,” he replied, and I nodded, realizing I had chosen correctly.

He was clearly a man of action, not decoration.

“Valeria… Have you ever been mated to a male before?” he asked suddenly, his voice dropping a shade deeper.

I froze.

My back was turned to him as I folded the extra clothes, and I fell silent for a few seconds. I didn’t want to talk about Dorian—or anything from my past.

“I…” My mind raced. Lying to him would be dangerous.

“It’s fine. You don’t have to answer. I only hope he’s dead. Because if he’s alive and dares to claim you, he’ll wish he was dead.”

The way he said it, so cold and possessive, as if I belonged to him—it made my skin prickle.

King Aldric was deeply possessive of his things.

We fell into silence as he grabbed a towel and began drying his hair.

But Dorian wouldn’t come for me. No male would claim me.

I was nothing now—a scarred, broken woman. No longer beautiful or desirable.

“This is the full outfit,” I said, motioning toward the final selection. “It will match perfectly with these boots, Sir.”

I was ready to leave, eager to escape this charged tension.

“Where are you going?” His voice stopped me cold. My stomach twisted as a terrible feeling settled in my gut.

“If you start something, you finish it. Come here—dress your King.”

I turned back slowly, only to find him standing tall, brushing his damp crimson hair back with his large hands, his muscular arms flexing, every inch of him powerful and overwhelming.

I stood frozen, head bowed, unsure how to react. Had I just… been promoted?

"As long as you remain loyal, you may have whatever you desire from me, Valeria. But never, ever think of betraying me. Believe me, I really wouldn’t want to have to separate that pretty head from your body."

Of course. It wouldn’t be the King without a threat mixed in.

At last, he left the room. Only then did I exhale, releasing the tension from my lungs. My life was a constant rollercoaster of stress and confusion.

I stared at the gold pouch on the table.

I wouldn’t waste it. This… this was my escape plan—my lifeline for the day I finally had to run.

But I never imagined how soon that moment would come.

*****

It was late at night as I walked through the dim corridors, guiding myself with a single candelabra.

A long coat hung over my nightdress, along with my old, worn slippers. All these clothes had been provided by the housekeeper.

I was heading to the King’s chambers. I had forgotten to change his bedsheets earlier, and he was notoriously meticulous about them.

Figuring he would still be at the festival, I quietly entered his quarters.

In the faint glow of candlelight, I retrieved the fresh linens from the closet and began stripping the massive bed.

The eerie silence of the room was broken by a beastly growl that made my blood run cold.

I froze, glancing toward a dark steel door tucked into the corner of the room—one I had never noticed before.

The terrifying sound echoed from behind it, a low snarl so menacing it made my stomach twist painfully.

I reminded myself not to be reckless. Not to be curious.

But against my better judgment, I grabbed the candelabra and moved toward the partially open door.

It creaked as I pushed it, revealing a narrow, spiraling staircase descending into darkness—like a descent straight into hell.

I made the mistake of going down.

And what I discovered in that basement… would change my life forever.