TRADING MY CHEATING HUSBAND FOR THE LYCAN KING novel Chapter 119

Clar

CHAPTER 79: QUEENIE’S SECRET–2

Our encounter in the hallway replays in my mind. His wolf flickering in his eyes. His hand on the wall beside my head.

‘You’re making it very hard to stay noble, querida.’

I turn away before he can catch me staring.

The evening moves along in a blur of small talk and champagne and the kind of exhausting social navigation that makes me appreciate Knox’s permanent scowl.

He’s better at this than he pretends – knows exactly when to be charming and when to be intimidating, how to work a room without looking like he’s working it.

I try to follow his lead, but my mind keeps wandering. To the herbs I swallowed this afternoon. Do I tell Knox? To Queenie’s too–bright smile. I’d have to confront her at some point. To Rafael’s… What even was

that?

2

And of course, to the dinner with Harrison Crawford still looming over us like a guillotine.

“You’re thinking too loud.”

Knox’s voice is low, meant only for me.

We’re standing near the edge of the ballroom, momentarily free from the endless parade of well–wishers and political climbers. Devika would love a room like this.

“Sorry.” I take a sip of champagne I don’t really taste. “Long day.”

“Want to leave?”

“We can’t leave. This is the official closing ceremony. You’re the Lycan King.”

“I’m the Lycan King who can do whatever he wants.” His hand finds the small of my back again, warm and grounding. “If you need to go, we go.”

The offer is tempting. So tempting.

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But then my eyes land on something across the room, and a different kind of impulse seizes me.

“Is that a piano?”

Knox follows my gaze to the corner where a glossy black grand piano sits, currently unoccupied. The jazz quartet is on a break, leaving the instrument alone and waiting.

“It appears to be, yes.”

“Do you play?”

“I’ve been known to.”

< CHAPTERZA GHEENIE’S SECRET–7

Something stirs in my chest.

A memory from another life–standing in my childhood living room, singing along to my father’s old records while my mother rolled her eyes from the kitchen.

Singing in the shower before Gale told me my voice was “pitchy” and “annoying.” Humming under my breath until I learned to stop making noise altogether.

I used to love singing. I used to love a lot of things.

“Play something for me,” I hear myself say. “I want to sing.”

Knox’s eyebrows lift. “Here?”

“Here.” The word comes out stronger than I expect. “In front of everyone.”

He studies my face, searching for something. Whatever he finds makes the corner of his mouth twitch.

“What song?”

“If The World Was Ending.‘ Do you know it?”

“I know it.”

“Knox.” I grab his arm before he can move. “Wait. I need I need you to do something first.”

“Name it.”

“Introduce me.” My heart is pounding so hard I can feel it in my throat. “I can’t just walk up there. I need… I

need a reason to be brave. Give me one.”

Something soft crosses his expression. He lifts my hand to his

lips and presses a kiss to my knuckles.

“Stay here,” he says. “I’ll come get you when it’s time.”

I watch him cross the ballroom toward the small stage where the jazz quartet has been performing.

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