TRADING MY CHEATING HUSBAND FOR THE LYCAN KING novel Chapter 131

CHAPTER 88: DO YOU LOVE EMBER?

EMBER’S POV

“Knox.” I grab his wrist, yanking him back with all the strength I have. “Knox, don’t.”

He’s trembling under my grip, vibrating with barely contained rage, his golden eyes locked on Harrison with murderous intent.

Harrison doesn’t even flinch. He sits there, wine glass in hand, watching the Lycan King snarl at him like he’s observing something mildly amusing.

Unbothered. Unfazed. Like he wouldn’t care if Knox actually did tear him apart right here in this dining

room.

“Sit down,” I whisper urgently, tugging at Knox’s arm. “Please. This is what he wants. Don’t give him the satisfaction.”

Knox doesn’t move.

“Neutral territory, remember?” I force a smile that feels like a lie on my face. “It’s in the past now. I’m okay. I’m right here. Please, Knox. Sit down.”

For a long, terrible moment, I think he won’t. I think he’s going to fling me away, then vault across this table

and murder Harrison Crawford in front of everyone and damn the consequences.

Then he exhales, sharp and ragged, and lowers himself back into his seat.

His hand finds mine under the table, squeezing hard enough to hurt, and I can feel the violence still thrumming through him, barely leashed, waiting for any excuse to break free.

Harrison takes a sip of his wine, utterly calm.

I can’t breathe.

He knew. He knew what Gale was doing to me and he did nothing.

He stood by and watched his son destroy me piece by piece and he called it discipline, called it necessary, called it maintaining order like I was a dog that needed to be trained rather than a person being

tortured in her own home.

“My turn,” Harrison says, his gaze shifting to Knox with something almost lazy in his expression, like a cat toying with a mouse. “Your Majesty, the court trial was such a beautiful show of love and affection between yourself and Ember. I almost felt ashamed for keeping two people so clearly destined for each other apart by misdirecting her into a marriage with my son.”

He pauses, swirling his wine.

“However, what I found particularly interesting was your… arrangement.” His eyes glitter with mirth. “I mean, you fucked a married woman without care. And rather than help her with the resources she needed

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to cscape an abusive husband, you traded her body for sex. Another collar around her neck, only this time

bound to you.”

The room goes deathly silent.

Harrison takes a slow sip, utterly unbothered by the tension crackling through the air.

“So, to what end, Your Majesty?” He sets the glass down, meeting Knox’s eyes with a smile that doesn’t waver. “Do you love Ember? Or are you just trading her one torture chamber for a gilded one?” He tilts his head, studying Knox like he’s genuinely curious. “Are you her newest monster in the guise of a gentleman?” Something in me goes very, very still.

Maybe it’s how deeply those questions hit at the bite of my insecurities about us.

Maybe it’s the voice at the back of my mind wondering if I’d ever had a single moment of agency in my entire life.

Or maybe it’s the even bigger question lurking underneath – who is Ember Aragon supposed to be without a man by her side?

L

All eyes at the table turn to us. Breaths held.

The poison of Harrison’s questions pulling at their own curiosity, their own suspicions, their own cruel

hopes that the answer might destroy something.

Knox leans back in his chair and lets out a chuckle that lands wrong in the tension suffocating the room.

“I don’t owe an old bastard like you a damn thing,” he says, his voice deceptively casual. “But for the sake of the woman beside me because she deserves better than having her name in your mouth – I’ll bite.”

He pauses, and I feel his thumb trace a slow circle on my palm under the table.

“What started between us was fucking. Pure and simple. Selfish. Two people taking what they wanted without apology.” His jaw tightens. “But here’s the thing about Ember – it’s impossible to know her and only want the bare minimum. The conversations that stretch past midnight. That sweet, awkward laugh she does in the few moments she actually allows herself to relax. The ridiculous, infuriating size of her heart that made her pull me back from clawing out your heart when she shouki’ve taken immense

pleasure in watching me spill your filthy blood.”

Something lights up in my chest. A strange thrill.

“So no, Crawford.” Knox’s voice drops, lethal and quiet. “She’s not a transaction. She’s not a doll. She’s not some broken thing I picked up to pass the time.” His eyes lock onto Harrison’s with cold brutality. “And if you think I’m anything like that sniveling waste of blood you call a son, I invite you to test that theory. See how it ends for you.”

Silence.

Then humor dances in Harrison’s eyes a surprising satisfaction, like Knox just handed him exactly what

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he wanted.

YOU LOVE EMBER?

“So, again,” Harrison says softly. “Do you love her?”

Knox goes still.

Something pounds in my chest. Something that feels like dancing on the edge of a cliff, teetering between salvation and freefall.

I can’t breathe. I can’t look at him. I can’t look away.

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