TRADING MY CHEATING HUSBAND FOR THE LYCAN KING novel Chapter 193

CHAPTER 133: MY FATED MATE

KNOX’S POV

Rafael Montenegro has always known exactly how to get under my skin.

It’s a talent, really.

A decade of watching him perfect it at summits and treaty negotiations and the occasional high–stakes poker game where we both pretended we weren’t calculating how to destroy each other.

He does it with that smile, that lazy aristocratic charm that makes everyone else see a gentleman while I

see the predator under.

Takes one to know one, I suppose.

I find him in the small galley near the cockpit, because of course he has a fully stocked bar on his private jet, because of course Rafael Montenegro can’t travel without the finest whiskey and crystal glasses and every creature comfort money can buy.

He’s pouring two fingers of something amber and expensive when I round the corner, and he doesn’t even look up.

“Took you long enough.” He slides a second glass across the counter. “I was beginning to think you’d actually let your pretend mate sleep without hovering over her like a possessive gargoyle.”

“She’s not my pretend mate.”

“No?” Rafael’s eyebrow arches as he finally meets my eyes. “That hand on her thigh for the past hour suggests otherwise. I’m surprised you haven’t pissed a circle around her seat to mark your territory.”

“Fuck off, Montenegro.”

“There he is.” Rafael’s smile widens, genuine amusement lighting in those grey eyes. “The real Knox. i was worried you’d gotten soft, what with all the domesticity I’ve been hearing about. Playing house. It’s almost sweet, if you ignore the part where you’re still a colossal bastard.”

I take the whiskey because I’m not stupid enough to refuse good alcohol, even from him.

It burns going down, smooth and expensive, exactly the kind of thing Rafael would stock.

“What do you

want?”

“World peace. A good night’s sleep. For you to stop looking at me like you’re planning my murder.” He swirls his own glass. “In that order.”

“I’m always planning your murder. It’s how I relax.”

“Charming.” He leans against the counter, all casual elegance that I know is calculated to the millimeter. “l believe I mentioned a peace offering. Back when I invited you both to dinner.”

CHAPTER LAY MY FATED MATE

“You cornered Ember in a hallway and made sure that I knew exactly that. Don’t insult my intelligence, Montenegro. You are anything but a peace maker. This is a chess move.”

“Can’t it be both?” Rafael shrugs, utterly unrepentant. “I’m a multitasker.”

“You’re a snake.”

“And you’re a beast who fucks like he’s trying to break something and then acts surprised when people get attached. I’ve heard the stories.” He takes a slow sip, watching me over the rim. “We all have our flaws.”

The thing about Rafael is that he’s never been afraid of me. Most people are.

Most people take one look at the Lycan King and decide that discretion is the better part of not getting their throat ripped out.

But Rafael has always met me head–on, blow for blow, insult for insult, like we’re two sides of the same

fucked–up coin.

It would almost be friendship if I didn’t want to kill him most of the time.

“So what is this, then?” I gesture at the plane, the trip, the whole elaborate production. “You volunteer your property, play the gracious host, and what? I’m supposed to believe you’ve suddenly developed altruistic

tendencies?”

“I’ve always been altruistic. I’m a delight.”

“You’re a pain in my ass.”

“Also true.” Rafael sets down his glass, and something in his expression shifts. The humor drains away, replaced by something deeper. More serious. “But I didn’t arrange this trip to torment you, Knox. Believe it or not, I actually want to clear the air.”

“Bullshit.”

“Fine. I want to clear the air AND torment you. Happy?”

I drain my whiskey and set the glass down harder than necessary

“Get to the point, Montenegro. What do you actually want?”

He’s quiet for a moment, studying me with those calculating eyes that see too fucking much.

“What are you doing with her?”

The question catches me off guard, which is probably exactly what he intended.

“That’s none of your goddamn business.”

“Probably not,” he agrees. “But I’m asking anyway. You don’t do relationships, Knox. You don’t do long term even if you try. You don’t do feelings or commitment or any of the things that woman clearly needs. You self–sabotage and you run and you prove what a piece of shit you are. So what is she to you? A distraction? A political prop? A warm body to fill the void until you get bored and move on?”

CHAPTER 13 MYLATED MATE

My wolf surges against my skin, violently hungry to smash his head against the counter, and that’s wrong,

that’s unexpected, but that doesn’t change the fact that it’s snarling at Rafael like it wants to tear his throat

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