TRADING MY CHEATING HUSBAND FOR THE LYCAN KING novel Chapter 441

< CHAPTER 364 BACK AT 3AM

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CHAPTER 364: BACK AT 3AM

KNOX’S POV

It’s past three when I finally give up on the crown for the night and go to her.

I shower first, in the dark, because I’ve been in a cold garage and three colder meetings and I’ve

I

got the whole ugly day still on my skin, and I don’t want to bring any of it into that bed.

It’s a rule I’ve made without ever saying it aloud: whatever the day is, whatever’s rotting out there in

the world with my name on it, I wash it off before I touch her.

She gets the clean version. She’s earned the clean version.

That’s the whole reason I do any of it, if I’m honest with myself.

The councils, the reports, the endless machinery of holding a continent together while everyone else sleeps-I grind through all of it, every night, chasing the one moment I get to walk into that

room and find her waiting.

A man can carry almost anything if there’s a warm bed and a warmer woman at the end of it. I

didn’t use to believe that. I do now.

I come out, towelling my hair, and she’s awake.

Of course she’s awake. She said she’d wait up, which is a lie she tells constantly and keeps, and

there she is, propped against the pillows in the low light, watching me cross the room with those

brown eyes gone soft and gold-flecked at the edges.

“You smell like a godawful amount of soap,” she says.

“I showered.”

“At three in the morning.” She lifts the covers in invitation, which is its own small miracle, this

woman making room for me like it’s nothing, like I’m something worth making room for. “You didn’t have to. I like you gross and kingly.”

“You absolutely do not.” I climb in, and she latches onto my side immediately, a warm, boneless

limpet.

Her leg hooks over mine, and then her bare feet find my shins with the malicious precision of a

heat-seeking missile.

“Sweet Selene,” I gasp, flinching away. “Put those away. They’re weapons of mass destruction.”

“They’re freezing,” she corrects, deliberately pressing them harder against my bare calf. “That’s the

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CHAPTER 364: BACK AT 3AM

entire point. You are my personal space heater. It’s a thermal transfer system.”

I hiss through my teeth, but she just laughs. It’s a low, delighted sound, that filthy, pleased-with-herself laugh that completely undoes me.

I would let her freeze me solid if it meant I got to keep hearing it.

“You love it,” she purrs, victorious.

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“I suffer through it because I lack self-preservation,” I say, wrapping an arm around her waist to drag her closer anyway. “There’s a difference.”

She snuggles deeper into my chest, a total menace.

“There is absolutely no difference, and you know it.”

She tips her face up, and I kiss her because I’ve been thinking about it since noon, since running the Casino Royale logistics with Nathaniel, since somewhere in the middle of the worst of the day when the thought of this was the only thing keeping me civil.

It’s slow and unhurried, going nowhere, just two people glad to be in the same warm dark, and she makes a soft sound against my mouth and melts further into me.

And I think, not for the first time, that I would raze the entire continent before I let anything take

this from me.

Ours, Phantom rumbles, settled and warm for once, curled up somewhere behind my ribs. Keep her warm. Keep the house quiet.

“Missed you,” she murmurs against my jaw, and it lands somewhere deep. “You were gone all day. What kept the great and terrible King out until three?”

“Everything. Nothing.” I trail my mouth to her temple. “James, mostly. Northern reports I can’t get a clean read on-alphas moving in patterns that don’t make sense, and every time I pull the thread, it goes dead in my hand. A supplier who’d rather waste my whole night than give me one straight answer.” I sigh into her hair. “The usual noise. None of it is worth bringing to bed.”

“Mm.” She’s quiet for a moment, and I feel the shift in her before she says anything, the way her body goes just slightly less soft against me.

And I know-I know-that the good part of the night is ending.

There’s a thing she’s been holding all evening, and she’s about to set it down on the bed between

“Knox.

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CHAPTER 364. BACK AT 3AM

entire point. You are my personal space heater. It’s a thermal transfer system.”

I hiss through my teeth, but she just laughs. It’s a low, delighted sound, that filthy, pleased-with-herself laugh that completely undoes me.

I would let her freeze me solid if it meant I got to keep hearing it.

“You love it,” she purrs, victorious.

+25 Point

“I suffer through it because I lack self-preservation,” I say, wrapping an arm around her waist to drag her closer anyway. “There’s a difference.”

She snuggles deeper into my chest, a total menace.

“There is absolutely no difference, and you know it.”

She tips her face up, and I kiss her because I’ve been thinking about it since noon, since running the Casino Royale logistics with Nathaniel, since somewhere in the middle of the worst of the day when the thought of this was the only thing keeping me civil.

It’s slow and unhurried, going nowhere, just two people glad to be in the same warm dark, and she makes a soft sound against my mouth and melts further into me.

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