The Lycan King and his Dark Temptation (Valeria) novel Chapter 382

NARRATOR

The impact was brutal. The air escaped from the woman's lungs in a strangled gasp as her head slammed against the stone.

The pain was immediate and blinding.

Katherine felt the world spin around her before collapsing, powerless, onto the plush carpet.

Her vision blurred, and from the floor, she barely made out Francis retreating, a shadow vanishing through the door.

*****

Meanwhile, Francis ran like a condemned man through the hallway, dodging a few maids checking the rooms, making his way into an abandoned wing.

The “treasure” he had stolen was clutched in his hands, his direct path leading to the wing of the late Dukes, a place rarely searched—his ticket out of this prison.

*****

KATHERINE

"Madam!" Amid my haze, I heard a female voice calling me and felt hands trying to lift me up.

My blurry eyes managed to focus for a second.

It was a maid and two footmen helping me. It seemed they had heard me scream.

"The… the man, Francis! He was here, find him!"

"But you're not well…"

"Don't worry about me, he—he must be close by," I mumbled through the agonizing headache. That brutal hit had rattled my brain.

I watched them leave, then forced myself up from the chair where they'd placed me and walked to the dresser, surveying the mess left behind.

That thief had taken Rossella's trinkets, but none of that mattered to me. Only my treasure, my real treasure.

"Daughter, I've failed you again… I messed up once more, Lavinia. I left you alone again…" I broke down, lowering my head and leaning on the dresser, my tears wetting my hands against the wood.

Sobs wracked my body, choking my throat.

I closed my eyes, trying to calm myself, but the endless horrifying scenarios flooding my mind filled me with paralyzing panic.

Why did they take her? For what? A ransom? More money?

My legs gave out, and I fell to the floor with a thud. My chest ached so much, I thought my heart would split in two. A hoarse sob escaped my pale lips.

But amid my maternal despair, my vulnerable moment, something burned like fire on my hand.

"Ahh!" I hissed, raising my right palm and discovering a red circle marked into my skin, with a strange symbol at its center.

What the hell was that?

It looked like it had been burned into me. Then I remembered—I had felt something similar while struggling with that bastard.

"My magic…" I murmured, quickly wiping away my tears.

Sometimes I forgot about this gift—or curse. But now, I hoped it would help me.

"Please, I beg you, guide me to my daughter," I pleaded with my eyes shut.

My eyelashes fluttered nervously. My whole body was trembling, for heaven’s sake—I was on the verge of breaking!

I started breathing erratically. The agony in my head intensified, but through all the darkness, I "saw" a trace.

A sort of red line of magical energy connecting my mark to that wretch's—like a tracker.

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