The Lycan King's Healer
The Lycan King’s Healer – Chapter 13

Cathy

Emily was still quiet, but I could smell the envy protruding from her in waves. I smiled.

“Oh, Aldrich,” Emily purred, standing up from the couch. She then floated over to him, resting a hand on his lower arm as if she was consoling him. “You poor thing. This woman has manipulated your emotions so many times.”

He stiffened, clearly uncomfortable. I turned to her, asking dryly in a monotone voice,

“It’s funny how you still can’t let go of Aldrich.”

My words made the room freeze once again, all wary eyes on me.

She masked her murderous intent with a wolf’s grin. “He has been my good friend since childhood, of course I care for him,” she squeaked, “Elias, would you like another cup of–”

“Really? I didn’t know caring for someone means you drug them on their wedding night, but I suppose we have different definitions,” I said in a bored tone.

Emily looked at me incredulously, an outraged panic in her eyes. “I don’t know what you’re talking about–”

I smiled at her menacingly. “The wine Aldrich and I drank on our wedding night was poisoned,” I said, “it was also from you.”

Stepping toward her, I never broke eye contact. She stepped away, ripping her hand from Aldrich’s arm.

The mens’ eyes were watching us with puzzlement, but they remained silent. Aldrich released his grip on me entirely, as if he was unleashing a rabid animal.

“I was drugged before Aldrich came into the room. You originally wanted a manservant to have s*x with me, so that Aldrich would catch us together on the bed. But he got sick in the bathroom, and Aldrich drank the wine.” My smile deepened, gradually becoming more and more maniacal. I closed the distance she created.

I remembered feeling like the world was spinning then tottering off its axis. Landing on the bed was equivalent to feeling like I fell backwards off of a cliff; I was in the air too long, and landed too heavy. Everything felt heavy, actually. I tried lifting my arm and giggled at how heavy it was. Anchor arms. When the dizziness wore off, I determined I got really drunk off of the wine. I had only one sip of it, and felt like I drank an entire winery. How embarrassing; I would be drunk when my new husband walks in the room!

But it wasn’t Aldrich that entered. My mouth gaped open when a man I did not know came into Aldrich’s suite, the only reaction my muscles could comprehend.

The man was tan and glistening, his abdomen exposed. He was shirtless, his pants sagging from his V-line. He was beautiful, but completely unfamiliar.

“Who are you?” I asked, my voice sounding far away.

He seductively prowled over to the bed, his thirsty eyes drinking me in. “Your best dream come true.”

I frowned. “That’s not exactly an answer.”

“You don’t need one,” he said. He sat down next to me, resting a hand on my upper thigh.

I jumped, sitting up. The encounter was slightly sobering me, but there was a pain in my gut. “I do.”

“Do not worry, beautiful…” he leaned in to me, and this close, I saw that he had love marks sprinkled around his neck.

I did not know why that was my trigger, but I swiftly bent over and retched onto his lap.

Strangely, the wine did not come out the color it went in; it combusted out of me in a slimy, bottle green. The strange man gasped, body tensing in disgust, some of the vomit splattering onto his bare chest. The act of me vomiting on him must have revolted him to the point of paralleled sickness, because he made a beeline for the bathroom.

“I am not getting paid enough for this,” he sneered when he exited the bathroom, suddenly paler than before. In a haste, he left the bedroom.

I was confused about the ordeal, but was too distracted with recovering from the wine. It must have been a combination of the alcohol and the nerves. I got up and cleaned myself in the bathroom, taking a cold shower and washing my face. Preparing for the implied actions of the night, I also brushed my teeth and reapplied my perfume.

Aldrich entered after celebrating a bit with his entourage. I made sure the bed was remade and proper, and he seemed in a decent mood. But ‘decent’ only meant polite–that was as far as our affections ventured.

“Who gifted us Goldflower wine?” he questioned, knowing it was the most expensive brand in the kingdom.

“Emily,” I answered, sitting down on the bed. He sat down on the opposite side of it, then sipped from his own flute of the wine.

In the night’s youth, Aldrich remained across from me. We engaged in formal conversation, about the ceremony and such. But it was mere formalities, like we were strangers at the market and not newly wedded. However, as his wine glass emptied and the liquid in the glass decreased, so did the space between us. He came closer with each sip of wine, and by the time he was placing it back onto the nightstand empty, he was kissing me.

“I’ve investigated it all, Emily,” I drawled predatorily. “I know all about you, more than you know yourself….

But tell me the one thing I don’t get.”

I hovered my face in front of hers, picking her apart brick by brick. “Tell me, since you did not want Aldrich to marry me, why did you covet Elias’s power and marry him instead?”

Like a building collapsing, she fell apart. Confusion and panic and outrage was evident on her face, and she could not feign her innocence anymore. I knew the confusion was because she thought she killed all the witnesses. In the rubble and ash of the building she created in her scheme, she emerged in a panic.

But, of course, she swiftly replaced the confused outrage with somberness. Tears welled in her eyes, and she sniffled. “I don’t understand what you’re talking about,” her voice faltered with a sob.

“Aldrich, how could you allow your wife to slander me like this?”

“Emily, what the hell is going on?” Elias snapped, rising to his feet. I couldn’t tell who he believed, but there was anger and a twinge of embarrassment in his voice.

She burst into alligator tears, and I decided she was not as beautiful as I thought she was. She was rather ugly when she cried.

“I swear, I did not do what she’s accusing me of,” she sobbed hysterically, turning to her husband. “I would never do such a thing!”

I smiled to myself as I realized I was the last woman to cry hysterically in this room and loved that she took my place.

“I promise you, Elias,” she whimpered, holding a hand to her husband’s face, looking at him with desperation.

Sneering, I lightly offered, “Well, since you swear, maybe you can prove your innocence by swearing to the Moon Goddess.”

“I will not only swear to the Moon Goddess, but also swear on my life,” she said immediately.

I froze, at a sheer loss for words.