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The other paw was around her waist, pulling her against a beastly body.
She attempted a scream, but nothing came out. The beast chuckled.
“I hear you’ve been looking for me, Duchess.”
The beast loosened his grip only enough to let her turn and find herself face to face with the Wolven King.
ChapterEleven
Phillipa
“I could kill you right now.” In theory, that was true. But there was no way the Wolven King wouldn’t feel her body trembling. Her heart pounding. She reached between her breasts, pulling out the silver pendant, her hand trembling as she flicked the cover away to reveal the dagger.
The wolven’s gaze slid to the weapon, and his lips curled into a grin. “You could, but you won’t.”
“You arrogant beast.” She was so infuriated that she was ready to jab it into his fine jacket, through his fur, and into his heart.
It would be so easy.
The wolven was right.
She couldn’t bring herself to do it.
There had been no way to prepare herself for the way it would feel in the moment to have the chance to take another creature’s life. How he felt warm and solid against her body. How he had taken the time to brush his rich, dark brown fur and dress impeccably for the Ball. His blue eyes twinkled mischievously. If he was here, he was interested in a mate. Or at least finding pleasure with a woman. His heart beat just as hard as hers. Was he nervous, too? Someone must love this beast. They would miss him when he didn’t come home. This was not the time for her to feel any sympathy for a Wolven Queen that might not even exist, for this awful beast was at the Monsters Ball.
Tightening her grip on the pendant, she squeezed her eyes closed and willed all her strength into aiming for his heart.
His big paw closed over her hand and the pendant. He sucked in a breath as the silver scalded his skin.
It was on the tip of her tongue to ask if he was hurt, but she wouldn’t. She reminded herself who he was.
She opened her eyes, finding his gaze squarely locked on hers.
“I claimed you once, Phillipa. And I plan to do it again.”
Her mouth dropped. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“You do.” The wolven eased the pendant out of her hand and lifted the necklace over her head, so careful not to disturb her topknot. He stuffed it into his pocket, without acknowledging the pain the silver caused him again. “I’d looked forward to our wedding night. You were so beautiful—”
“How dare you.” Phillipa pulled away from the beast and took the chair near the window. The orchestra was setting up for tonight’s performance. The rest of the Ball was going according to plan. And here she was, trapped with this repugnant wolven who dared claim that he was her husband. It made no sense! She looked back to him.
The twinkle in those blue eyes disappeared, replaced with sadness. For a moment, she almost believed him.
No.
She refused to feel sympathy for this beast.
“You took him, didn’t you? Took him and tortured him and made him tell you his deepest, darkest secrets so once you were done with him, his soul would never be able to rest.” She choked back a sob. If she was right, that meant her worst fears had come true. Her Wesley was dead. This beast abducted him and his family had no idea what had happened to him. They were holding onto hope, just like she was.
But if he was right…
“No, my love.” He went down on one knee in front of her and wiped away the tear that ran down her cheek. So gentle. His fur was so soft as the sensation sent a shiver down her spine. “Please let me explain what happened. I would have never left you if there was any way I could have stayed.”
“Get off your knees, wolven, and stop talking to me like you are Wesley. It’s—”
“I am Wesley,” the wolven growled. “Andrew Wesley, Duke of Chelmsford. Former Officer in the Queen’s Command. Loyal son, brother, and husband. Madly in love with my brand new bride, Phillipa, Duchess of Chelmsford.”
Her lips parted. “How do you possibly expect me to believe a word you say?”
