Lycan - Chapter 3

“What did you say?”

Callie froze. But Lady Margaret, pressed for time, quickly continued.

“We need to go down soon. Hurry and change your clothes.”

“But the wedding is tomorrow!”

Callie was almost in a state of panic.

“The Duke said he wants to hold the wedding right now. And the Count has already given his approval.”

Lady Margaret glanced at Callie’s hair color and nodded.

“Good thing we changed it. Otherwise, we’d have been in big trouble. Put on the dress. Now!”

Once Margaret left, Callie closed the door and stood there, dumbfounded.

“Of course, it’s like this.”

Sheila, who had been hiding behind a box, stepped out, clicking her tongue.

“Your plans are always a mess. So, what now?”

Callie frowned but quickly began to think positively.

“It’s fine. I’ve already prepared everything I need.”

“Hey, Callie. Are you seriously going through with that clumsy plan? It’s not too late. Let’s just run away.”

“No. The soldiers are guarding the doors, so escaping isn’t even an option. And even if we did manage to escape, it’s only a matter of time before we’re caught. Besides, the two of us can’t possibly make it all the way to Sorte—it’s too far and too dangerous.”

“Better that than being brutally killed by the Black Wolf. First, we just need to survive until tomorrow morning. We can figure things out after that.”

“What’s going to change if we survive one more day? If we’re going to die anyway, it’s better to take a chance with the higher odds.”

“Do you really think so? You think deceiving the Black Wolf has better odds?”

“Yes. I’ve come up with a thorough plan.”

“Oh, dear God. Callie, your plans have never worked before.”

“That’s just because I’ve had bad luck.”

“And right now, your luck doesn’t seem any better. You’re up against Duke Warren—the Black Wolf. The person you’re trying to fool is known as the fiercest warlord in Decons, a savage werewolf, and the Lion of Hell!”

“Those are just names born out of people’s fear. Duke Warren is still a person at the end of the day.”

“No, the Duke is no ordinary person. They say he’s almost as massive and vicious as an ogre. Savage and terrifying. Someone like you wouldn’t even stand a chance. Think about it—if you end up under a man like that, do you really think you’ll survive?”

Callie’s eyes widened.

“Why would I ever end up under that man?”

“You idiot. Obviously, since you’re getting married, you’ll have to spend the wedding night together, and it’s only natural for the man to get on top of the woman.”

“The man gets on top of the woman?”

“Yeah. It’s the final ritual to complete the marriage. I heard the maids talking about it. Those weird maids said the more the man presses down, the more enjoyable it is, and even the woman likes it. I don’t get it at all. Anyway, it’s certain that you’ll be underneath him.”

Callie felt her body freeze from the shock of this unexpected and horrifying information.

“That can’t be true. No way…”

“The maids said if the Count’s daughter ends up under the Black Wolf, she’ll be crushed to death—pinned down so badly she won’t even be able to scream, suffocated until her guts burst.”

“Why… why? Why would he press down on a newlywed bride like that?”

“How would I know? What are you asking a bird for?”

Callie imagined herself being crushed to death by a gigantic man. My God. There couldn’t be a more humiliating way to die.

She turned her gaze to the box next to the bed. Inside were all the things she had prepared to carry out her plan.

Among them, a cold dagger.

She hoped she wouldn’t have to use it, a last resort only. But if she really was going to be crushed to death? Then she’d have to use it. No, she needed to sort everything out before it ever came to that. She absolutely had to.

Still, if something went wrong…

“Sheila.”

Callie called her friend in a grim voice.

“What?”

The bird replied in a sulky tone.

“Be ready.”

“What?”

“If things go south, we’re leaving this place tonight.”

Assuming we’re still alive, that is.

***

The wedding was over in the blink of an eye. During the brief ceremony, Callie kept her head down the entire time, her vision obscured by layers upon layers of linen veils.

Even though she didn’t look up, she could feel the presence of the enormous man standing beside her with every fiber of her being.

He was the embodiment of fear itself. It was better not to look at him.

Just imagining what his face might look like—undoubtedly as savage as his massive body—sent shivers down her spine. If she caught sight of it and fainted right there… the thought alone was terrifying.

Now, in her new chambers, far larger and cleaner than her old ones, Callie glanced at her reflection in the mirror. The moonlight outlined the silhouette of her body through the thin linen nightgown she wore.

“Where’s the chemise?”

“You won’t need it.”

“You expect me to wear only this nightgown?”

“That’s just out of courtesy. When the Duke arrives, you’ll have to take that off, too.”

Margaret’s words had been horrifying. The thought of being stripped of her nightgown left completely exposed, and crushed beneath that enormous man until she died…

Callie hurried to the table. She opened the small pouch she had prepared earlier and poured every last grain of the powder inside into the wine bottle.

“Will this be enough?”

She felt anxious. According to the herbalist living on the edge of the village, the amount she’d purchased should be enough to put two grown men to sleep. But the Duke was tall and broad—massive, even.

The drug needed to work instantly.

If only Sheila were here. That selfish bird hadn’t been seen since the wedding began.

After hesitating for a moment, Callie decided to be safe and opened a second pouch she’d brought just in case. She poured its contents into the wine bottle and shook it vigorously.

This should be enough to knock out even an ogre.

“All right. Now then…”

Her gaze shifted to the enormous bed.

The bed that had once belonged to the Count’s daughter.

If I end up there… I’m dead. I have to stop that from happening.

Thud!

Callie jumped and spun toward the noise at the door. Laughter and loud voices echoed from outside, followed by the sound of someone speaking.

The sound of heavy footsteps approached, closer and closer. Then—bang!—the door swung open.

Instinctively, Callie took a step back.

A man filled the doorway, then strode inside.

The moment she saw him, she froze.

The man’s mere presence made the enormous room feel suffocatingly small. Her breath caught in her throat.

Damn it.

The Black Wolf was even bigger than she had imagined.

*

The information was wrong.

The moment Lycan laid eyes on the woman standing by the window, he realized that Owen had, for the first time, given him inaccurate information.

“She has a scrawny figure and isn’t particularly pretty,” Owen had said.

Contrary to Owen’s description, the woman was quite beautiful. And as for her body—far from scrawny.

Or… was it? On the whole, one might say she was slender. But the way her dress clung to her figure betrayed curves that no one could call “scrawny”—full breasts and round hips.

Maybe it was the dim candlelight in the room, flickering and creating the illusion of beauty beyond reality.

And then, suddenly, moonlight poured in through the window.

The clouds had shifted, revealing a bright, unobstructed moon.

For a brief moment, Lycan’s thick brows twitched.

It wasn’t an illusion. Bathed in the moonlight, the woman before him was undeniably beautiful.

Her pale skin, a small yet well-defined nose, and crimson lips.

And her eyes… almond-shaped with slightly upturned corners, reminiscent of a cat’s.

A slender neck, rounded shoulders, full-looking breasts, a trim waist, and rounded hips lead to long, elegant legs.

The woman seemed unaware of her current state. She had no idea how the moonlight rendered her thin nightgown utterly useless, revealing every curve beneath it.

She was terrified of him.

Not that it mattered. Women—and most people, really—reacted to him like this all the time.

Lycan unfastened the sword strapped to his waist and propped it against the wall. Then, he looked at the woman again.

She stood frozen in place, and his eyes scanned her figure once more. Suddenly, he felt a surge from deep in his core.

Heat. Blood pooled at his center, creating a fire that was becoming harder and harder to suppress.

There was no reason to delay. He might as well enjoy a feast that looked far more delectable than he’d expected.

Lycan shrugged off his tunic, tossing it onto a chair. His shirt followed, yanked off in one motion. He grabbed the laces of his trousers and began to pull—

“Wine!”

The sudden exclamation made Lycan lift his head.

The woman, who had stood pale and trembling just moments ago, now clenched her fists tightly. Her white throat moved slightly, as though she were swallowing hard.

Lycan stared at her in silence. He watched as she took a deep breath and stepped forward.

One step closer. And then another. Her movements carried a sense of resolve, as though she had made peace with her fate.

“I prepared… cider,” she said, her voice wavering but steadying as she gestured toward the table.

Lycan followed her gaze. On the table were a slender pitcher, two cups, and a cluster of plump grapes.

The woman quickly moved to the table, her movements swift and purposeful. She picked up the pitcher and poured the wine into one of the cups, her actions precise.

Then, after another deep breath, she approached him, holding the cup in her trembling hands.

Lycan looked down at the silver cup extended toward him.

“Drink,” she said.

Her voice wavered slightly, betraying her nervousness, as her gaze flickered downward.

There are generally two reasons why someone avoids meeting another’s eyes: fear of the other person or the need to hide something.

“The Count’s daughter reportedly had a fiancé. The son of a baron from a neighboring estate. Apparently, Lady Elisha and the baron’s son were promised to each other when they were children. Of course, it was only a verbal agreement between the families. Also, the baron’s son is still just a squire and currently staying at a distant relative’s house. But according to the information I’ve uncovered, he’s on his way here after hearing about the Count’s daughter’s wedding. He should arrive by tomorrow. There’s a chance that, in a fit of youthful passion, he might object to the wedding.”

Or perhaps… the two of them might run away together.

If Owen’s information wasn’t completely wrong, this woman was definitely up to something.

Lycan looked at the woman standing before him.

The hand holding the cup trembled as much as her voice had. Her face was pale as a ghost, frozen stiff, and her eyes…

Yes. Those large, beautiful, cat-like eyes looked desperate.

Giving me this drink is clearly very important to her.

Lycan slowly extended his hand and took the cup. Relief washed over the woman’s face so clearly it was almost laughable.

He barely suppressed a smirk. Bringing the cup to his lips in a deliberate show, he noticed how her eyes lit up with a glimmer of hope.

She’s a terrible liar.

Seeing her transparent expression made something stir inside him again—heat rising, unbidden.

They say the urge to conquer is innate to men.

And now, the desire to crush and claim this woman, who so obviously belonged to another man, surged violently within him.