The Lycan King's Healer
The Lycan King’s Healer – Chapter 55

As I left the room, I immediately went to consult with the guard outside in the corridor.

“How long has she been in there with that man?” I asked, trying to keep my voice neutral. “Who is he?”

The guard thought for a moment before answering. “Since this morning. The man has been permitted on the premises since yesterday with claims that he was a friend of miss Cathy’s. This was confirmed when Cathy ventured out last night with him to the village.”

“What?” I demanded, rage brewing in my stomach. I regained my composure before nodding. “Thank you.” I then continued my trek down the corridor, not letting my expression reflect what was happening inside of me.

Cathy

Shit.

I ran out of the library in a haste. I did not notice him step into the room, but I heard him as he stormed out. Since I was not stupid, I knew what he saw and what he suspected as he ran out. I saw him turn around the bend all the way down the corridor; he was walking in large strides, but did not seem in a particular rush or panic.

“Aldrich,” I called, avoiding raising my voice. I was still mad at him about before, and did not exactly feel like begging for him to come back so that I could explain the sight he violently misinterpreted.

He did not turn his head, his pace not slowing down. That’s when I realized he not only misinterpreted the sight, but added a layer of his own theory to it as well.

I was not going to take that. He was not allowed to ignore me.

“Listen to me,” I growled, grabbing the back of his arm when I caught up to him. My anger at his neglect gave me enough strength to even make him turn his body, and he winced. I felt a twinge of guilt at the pain that must have caused his wound, but I very quickly got over it.

“What do you think you’re doing ignoring me like that?” I demanded angrily, gripping his arm. He was stationary, but he did not look at me, his jaw clenched.

“You have no right to ignore me. Speak,” I said, avoiding the urge to slap him. What had gotten into him? He had hell of an audacity to be mad at me when he was the one so vehemently in the wrong.

“I told you I’d never let you see that side of me again,” he said in a clipped voice, “this is me keeping that promise.”

“What could possibly be making you angry?” I demanded.

He kept his voice cruelly calm, but I saw the rage in his eyes. “Maybe the fact you have been sneaking out with another man. Have you thought of that?”

I paused, looking at him incredulously. “How did you–”

“You didn’t think I’d replace out, I suppose?” he sneered, and pain intermingled with the rage in his eyes.

I stared at him, words failing to fall out of my gaping lips.

“I know you sneaked out last night with that man you were snuggled up with in there,” he demanded, a vein in his throat bulging. His voice was still calm, but edged with acidity. “And I know you didn’t return until dawn. And then you pretended to be asleep when I came in.”

“I-” my voice broke, completely torn. I didn’t know what to say. There were absolutely no ill intentions with Clement, and I was in such disbelief that he theorized Clement and I as something other than platonic, I felt my entire body freeze. I also did not want to tell him the real reason why I snuck out, and why Clement was lingering around. I did not know if he would approve of me returning to my former life in the night.

He was looking at me then, but in the worst way. His expression appeared as if I just punched him in the face or told him I killed his mother. He looked so dejected and hurt, I wanted to reach out and hold his face. Instinctively, I stepped toward him, softening.

Aldrich stepped away.

When he did, I felt the memory of the morning after our wedding night pierce my chest. He was looking at me the way he did back then. Betrayal, anger, and pure disgust clouded his features and darkened his eyes, the eyes that looked at me so lovingly just yesterday.

“I told you that I was the monster in our love story,” he said, hurt in his voice, but still projecting it evenly. “But I think you took that role.”

Those were the last words he said to me before walking away.

Shit, shit, shit I thought, my brain screaming a steady flow of curses. What was I going to do? I did not feel comfortable telling him about my venture out into the villages, for I knew he would deem it too dangerous and not allow me to go without him. I also knew he wouldn’t very much like Clement; they were polar opposites. Plus, if they met, it would soon come out that Clement was the one who supplied the b***d and not me. I’d be caught in another lie.

I did not follow him; there was no way he was going to let me explain myself after I so utterly failed to. He translated my hesitation as a confession of guilt, of a silent and stunned agreement to his accusation. There was no coming back from that now.

The only thing I could do was plan how I would explain myself later on. I did not return to the library; instead, I went to the garden.

It was now flourishing again, for Aldrich had the servants revamp it when he redecorated my rooms. Dazzling, full of color and sweet smells, even at night in the breeze. I sat down on one of the garden benches, trying to catch my breath after realizing I was breathing too hard.

I did not know what this meant for us if he never spoke to me again. Despite his developed feelings for me, Aldrich was infamously resolute when he made a decision out of anger. Maybe he would throw all of my things out of the estate by the morning, or take Theo as his own and banish me like I thought he did. Maybe he’d take my insecurities and my fears and deliberately bring them to life out of revenge.

“Mommy,” Theo’s voice came from the side of the bench. I gasped, turning to him standing in the garden. Did he come here unattended?

“Baby,” I said, immediately grabbing him. His fist was clenched at his side around something. “What are you doing out here?”

“I was trying to replace Uncle Alan when an adult told me to give this to you,” he said, looking a little dazed with confusion. He held out his arm.

Frowning, I grabbed his hand and uncurled his fingers to discover a small piece of paper. It was marked with the same perfect handwriting I had begun to read so many times now.

She who feeds the snake will merely be eaten whole by it.