I Bought A Male Escort, Turns Out He's The Lycan King novel Chapter 76

**Leaves Falling Like Promises**
**By Amara Grant**
**Chapter 76**

**KAT**

I was utterly bewildered as to how I had drifted off to sleep. The gnawing fear had kept me locked in my room, my mind racing with questions that refused to settle. Why was this happening to me? What was that searing pain coursing through my body? It felt as though I were adrift in a sea of confusion, my senses flickering like a broken light. The new bottle of suppressants lay on the nightstand, its contents dwindling, a quarter already consumed in a desperate attempt to quiet the turmoil inside me.

As I blinked awake, Hunter’s intoxicating scent enveloped me, igniting a fire deep within my core. I was drenched, not merely from sweat but from something more primal. My clothes clung to my skin like a second layer, and the realization of my own scent filled the air, mingling with the remnants of my dreams.

With a groan, I rolled off the bed, landing awkwardly on my knees. A chill swept through the room, sending shivers racing up my spine. The fever that had gripped me seemed to have finally broken, yet I had never experienced illness before, and my mind stubbornly refused to entertain any other explanation for the pain and the overwhelming heat that had consumed me.

Deep down, I knew my instincts were right to question it. A wolf didn’t go into heat until after her first shift, and when that moment arrived, she would be incapacitated for days, needing the support of her mate or chosen partner to guide her through it. But I was fine—no shift, no lingering heat. Perhaps it had all been a figment of my imagination, a trick my mind had played on me.

The darkness of the room pressed in around me, and the remnants of my dream replayed like a loop of forbidden fantasies. Hunter’s hands caressed my body, his mouth lavishing pleasure upon me. I needed to wash away the sweat and the shame before the house stirred to life.

Under the cascade of water, my body still quivered, the aftershocks of the dream rippling through me like waves crashing against the shore. Without thinking, my hand slipped between my legs, fingers gliding easily over my slick skin. These dreams were becoming a dangerous obsession, threatening to consume me.

Leaning back against the cool tiles, I closed my eyes, surrendering to the moment. I heard my own voice, soft and intimate, whispering, “Hunter.” Memories of his heartbeat pulsed in my mind, harmonizing with my own. Even now, I could feel that electric flutter just beneath the surface of my skin. It took mere moments for the wave of pleasure to crash over me, and I slumped against the wall, overwhelmed by its intensity.

Suddenly, a loud thud shattered the stillness, jolting me back to reality. My eyes flew open, and I quickly turned off the water. Someone was in my room.

Wrapping a large robe around my damp body, I hurried out into the hallway. The room appeared empty, but that unmistakable scent lingered in the air—Mr. Rivers had invaded my sanctuary, just as I had feared. My fists clenched at my sides, a mix of anger and anxiety coursing through me. I had to find that map and escape this place.

It took me what felt like an eternity to muster the courage to leave my room. As I traversed the halls, the servants passed me by without a glance, their indifference a stark contrast to the turmoil within me. But I knew I was on the right path; every time my awareness flared, I could sense his dark presence looming, rivaling even the dense, seemingly impenetrable forest surrounding us. With every step I took, that shadow grew larger, more oppressive.

A primal instinct within me recoiled at the thought of confronting him. He wasn’t even attempting to mask his aura; it pressed down on me like a heavy weight. I felt the urge to flee, to hide, yet at the same time, I longed to confront him. It was the restless beast within me, a tug-of-war between fear and defiance.

I found him outside on the stone terraces that cascaded down to the pool and bar area. The morning sun illuminated various sculptures, casting playful shadows across the manicured grass, and a helipad loomed in the distance. A wave of relief washed over me; perhaps if I could keep him calm and civil, he would allow me to leave the city.

But then I heard it—the unmistakable sounds of moans, gasps of pleasure, and the rhythmic slap of flesh meeting flesh. My eyes widened as I turned toward the source of the commotion.

Mr. Rivers was lounging in a chair, his thick thighs flexing as a naked woman rode him, her body moving in a sensual rhythm. His large hands gripped her hips, guiding her movements with an ease that made my stomach churn. They were out in the open, exposed, with a house full of servants nearby!

My gaze darted upward, only to collide with his golden eyes. The woman was lost in her ecstasy, but Mr. Rivers… he was watching me intently, his gaze piercing through the haze of the moment.

Mortification flooded through me, and I instinctively tried to turn away, but his low, commanding voice halted me in my tracks. “Stay. Watch me.” It was an order—an alpha’s command that I found impossible to disobey, especially with my wolf so close to the surface. His aura enveloped me, suffocating and inescapable.

I felt myself sinking to my knees on the cold stone tiles, my instincts still warring within me, urging me to flee. Yet, this wolf, this omega within me, remained submissive, kneeling in a position of vulnerability. The ache in my chest was indescribable, a mixture of longing and despair.

The woman’s cries grew louder, filling the air with a primal intensity.

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