TRADING MY CHEATING HUSBAND FOR THE LYCAN KING novel Chapter 489

CHAPTER 412: AS YOU WISH

EMBER’S POV

Silas is quiet for a long beat.

“…As you wish, sister.”

The scale flares. The cold, buzzing light reaches across the table and sinks into her.

And I have to sit there, choking on my own tears, and watch my mother die without her heart ever stopping.

I watch the light pull it out of her. I watch the deep, ancient grief drain out of her features drop by drop.

I watch the tension that has lived in her jaw for years smooth out into nothing.

I watch her weep for a thing she is no longer allowed to remember, until the tears on her face are just water on a stranger’s cheeks, meaning nothing at all.

The light snuffs out.

The room plunges back into silence.

Devika blinks. Her spine straightens slightly, the posture of a wealthy woman who has just awoken from a nap in a strange room.

She looks around the blood-stained room with mild, detached puzzlement.

Then, she reaches up and touches her face. Her fingers come away wet.

“…How odd,” she murmurs to herself, her voice perfectly light, completely devoid of the agony that was there ten seconds ago. She lets out a small, embarrassed laugh-a polite, social laugh. A stranger’s laugh. “I seem to have been crying. I can’t imagine why.”

A deep, gut-wrenching sound tears its way out of my throat.

I can’t breathe.

My chest caves in, the absolute finality of it crushing my lungs, and I collapse sideways.

Knox catches me. His massive arms wrap around me, pulling me hard into his chest, and I bury my face in his shirt, shaking so violently my teeth chatter.

I am sobbing, loud and ugly and completely broken, mourning a woman who is sitting less than three feet away from me.

I can’t explain why it hurts this much. Why it feels like a serrated blade has been sunk directly into my chest, hooking into my veins and pulling my entire ribcage inside out.

Perhaps because, through all my life, the single most consistent thing in my world was Devika.

Even if I didn’t have a mother, I had her. I had someone to hate. I had a focal point for all my blame.

CHAPTER YOUR

+25 Points

In the nosi twisted, sickening way, she had been the most permanent fixture in my life, so much so that Ter absence cast the biggest shadow.

When Maurice crawled into a bottle and never came out, she was there, with her cruel, fussing words and her vain, shallow interests. She was always there.

It was a traumatic, rotting tether that kept her anchored to my heart-simultaneously as the monster under my bed, and the one person in the universe I desperately wished would turn on the light and save

Because as long as she remembered me, there was a tiny, pathetic chance that she might change.

That she might finally choose to be a mother. And if she had… Goddess, I would have forgiven her. There would have been room for us.

But once again, Devika Aragon has corrected her twenty-six-year-long mistake.

For thirty seconds, she let herself love me more than she loved her own survival, and she couldn’t stand the weight of it.

By erasing me, she is back in charge of her own life. And I am just a mistake she finally found a way to delete.

Devika hears the sound. She turns her head, her gaze landing on me where I am falling apart in Knox’s

arms.

There is absolutely nothing in her eyes.

No recognition. No hatred. No resentment. Not even the cold, assessing glare she has aimed at me my

entire life.

It is just the blank, well-meaning courtesy of one stranger noticing another stranger having a difficult time.

She tilts her head, a flicker of polite concern crossing her flawless, empty face. She leans slightly toward Silas, her voice hushed.

“Silas,” she whispers, completely bewildered. “Who is that poor young lady? Why on earth is she weeping like that? Has something terrible happened to her? Was the wine that sour?”

That is the thing that truly finishes me.

I squeeze my eyes shut and scream into Knox’s chest, my fingers twisting into his shirt as the last piece of my childhood burns to the ground.

Knox buries his face in my hair, holding me so tightly my ribs ache, acting as the only anchor keeping me from floating away into the dark.

Across the table, Silas stares on.

For a long time, the hardened, rogue king doesn’t say a word. He just watches us. And then, slowly, a single tear slips free from his eye, catching in the silver scars on his cheek.

He simply shakes his head, mourning the tragedy of it all.

CHAPTER APKE YOU

the clears ins throat, his voice thick and rough when he finally speaks.

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