TRADING MY CHEATING HUSBAND FOR THE LYCAN KING novel Chapter 461

CHAPTER 384 THE KING OF ROGUES

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CHAPTER 384: THE KING OF ROGUES

EMBER’S POV

Knox deflects her arm; the explosive sound is deafening as the bullet tears wildly across the expansive floor.

In a single, brutal blur of motion, Knox rips the weapon from her grip, hauls me behind his massive back, and drives Devika to her knees, racking the slide of her own gun against her

temple.

Across the room, the private lift doors slide open.

The stray bullet buries itself directly into the shoulder of the man stepping out.

All the breath is sucked out of my lungs.

The man doesn’t stagger. He doesn’t drop the silver spoon in his hand. He doesn’t even look down at the blood rapidly blooming across the shoulder of his leather jacket.

He just stands there, an enormous, scarred mountain of a man holding a small porcelain ramekin, staring at the chaos in the room

“Enough,” he says, just as the rogues try to dive at us.

The whole room changes. Every rogue freezes, the murderous heat of the mob instantly bleeding out into absolute terror.

The man finally glances down at his bleeding shoulder, letting out a deeply inconvenienced sigh.

“I step away for twenty minutes,” he murmurs, his voice a low rumble as he scrapes his spoon delicately against his dessert, “and someone shoots me in my own house.”

His own house?

The words drop like stones into my stomach.

As in, Devika’s crime boss boyfriend. The King of the Rogues.

The owner of Casino Royale.

Oh, brilliant. We are eternally fucked. Because fifty armed rogues simply wasn’t bad enough.

Pressed flush against Knox’s back, I feel every muscle in his massive frame lock down, coiling tight as a predator preparing for the room to erupt into a fresh hell.

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CHAPTER 384 THE KING OF ROGUES

But even as a low, feral snarl vibrates in his chest and his eyes flash a murderous, blinding gold, I can feel the devastating toll the poison is taking.

He is shaking with the effort of staying upright.

Blood is soaking through his ruined suit from wounds that are flatly refusing to heal, and I can hear the ragged, heavy drag of his lungs as he fights to hold the exhaustion at bay

The Rogue King, however, does not look the least bit agitated.

He steps further onto the floor, blood seeping into the shoulder of his suit, and the sea of violent men instantly parts for him, heads bowing in absolute submission.

His bored, dark eyes slowly survey the wreckage of his casino.

Finally, his lazy gaze lands on the Lycan King-bleeding, shielding me aggressively behind his back, with the barrel of a stolen gun pressed dead between his lover’s trembling eyes.

Only then does Silas Black sigh, setting his spoon down on the saucer with a sharp click.

“Someone is going to explain this to me. Quickly.”

Devika lights up like a struck match.

“Silas! Oh, my dear Silas.” Breathless, radiant despite being on her knees with Knox’s gun pressed to her skull, she angles her face toward him the way a cat lays a dead bird at your feet. “Darling. I caught them. Impostors. This one lied her way onto the floor. And the man—” her voice climbs, delighted, “—the man is Knox Volkov. The Lycan King! Can you imagine? I caught the King of the wolves in your house, Silas, and I’m holding him for you.”

Silas Black, the man who owns this whole mountain of sin, hands his dessert to a terrified Cassian, trailing behind him, eyes wide and absolutely furious.

He walks over without hurry, his boots easily crushing the broken glass, and stops in front of Knox and me.

Even standing there, he’s gigantic.

He studies the King holding the gun to his lover’s head the way you’d study an interesting stain on good marble.

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