Transmigrated: The Lycan King's Pet
Chapter 49 Unexplainable Feelings

Chapter 49: Chapter 49 Unexplainable Feelings

(Ember’s POV)

The taste wasn’t mutton.

My eyes flew open.

Oh no.

Oh no no no.

Panic thundered in my chest as I realized what my mouth was chewing on... wasn’t meat.

It was warm. Firm. Soft and plump.

My gaze locked onto his—Damon’s. His eyes, wide in horror, stared at me like I had grown horns and started singing opera.

My body froze, the truth slamming into me like a runaway cart. I was fucking chewing on the Alpha’s lips.

’What a dumb way to die?’

A scream tore from my throat. I flung myself backward so fast that my head hit the floor with a dull thud. Pain exploded at the back of my skull, but I didn’t care—I squeezed my eyes shut like it would erase what had just happened.

Maybe if I stayed still long enough, he would think it was a nightmare. Maybe I could pretend I fainted again. Maybe I could disappear into the floor and never face this humiliation.

But his voice cracked through my thoughts, disbelieving and edged with rage. "You bit me?"

Every cell in my body curled up in fear. He sounded like a volcano on the verge of eruption.

My mind screamed at me to move, to run, but I didn’t. I couldn’t. My only defense was playing dead. Again.

I peeked under my lashes—just a sliver—and saw him squatting beside me, fury etched into every line of his perfect, terrifying face.

Oh spirits. I bit the Alpha. Of all the things to bite, it had to be his lips. And worse? I kinda liked the taste.

He paced now, muttering angrily under his breath. Each step sent a jolt of terror through my veins. The way he cracked his knuckles... I was going to die. I was definitely going to die.

Then he crouched again.

"Open your eyes," he growled.

I stayed still. My heart stuttered and pounded heavily in my ears.

"Ember."

Still nothing. Please don’t throw me into the river. Or the dungeon.

Then came the threat. "If you don’t open your eyes right now, I will personally drag you to the elders’ hall and declare you unfit to be part of this pack. Then I’ll assign you latrine duty. Every. Single. Day."

My eyes snapped open.

I couldn’t help it. The horror of that was worse than death.

I blinked up at him, plastering on the most innocent expression I could muster. "Oh... you’re here? I must’ve fainted. What happened?"

He was not amused.

"You bit me."

"I did?"

I asked with a wide-eyed confusion. But his lip was red. No denying that one.

He exploded into a tirade. I tried to hold in my laughter—no, not laughter, fear-induced panic giggles—but it slipped out in a whisper. "Technically, you’re meat."

His stare could’ve melted stone.

And still, through all that anger and rage, there was one thing that stuck with me more than anything.

I was terrified of him—yes. But not because he beat me. It was because he could, and he didn’t. Because he held so much power in one hand... and yet he let me mock him, bite him, tease him.

And why was my heart beating like this whenever he looked at me?

His eyes were still burning holes through me, but he hadn’t moved. His jaw clenched, fists balled tight like he was restraining himself from launching me across the room. And still, he didn’t touch me.

I swallowed.

"Are you going to... punish me?" I asked quietly.

He didn’t answer. He just glared daggers at me. The silence stretched so long I started counting my sins. There were many.

Finally, he stood to his full height, towering over me. "Get up."

I remained on the floor, blinking up like a helpless squirrel. "I don’t think my legs work."

He arched his brow. "They worked fine when you bit me."

"That was a survival reflex."

He stepped forward. I squeaked and scooted back so fast I knocked over a wooden tray. "Fine! Fine! I’m getting up!"

I scrambled to my feet, swaying slightly, my head still throbbing from where it hit the floor. He didn’t help me up. He just watched.

Probably calculating the level of punishment I deserved.

"I’ll accept a fair sentence," I offered bravely. "Something not too difficult as my hand is still injured. Maybe... I can tell you stories about the human world, or we can talk about how it feels to be a psychopath."

He blinked, totally flabbergasted by my words. His eyes darkened as he already knew that meaning behind my last word. "Your mouth is the problem, Ember."

"I know," I muttered, folding my hands in front of me like a repentant nun. "It’s very independent. It acts on its own."

He stepped closer. I flinched from his large frame towering over me.

But instead of yelling or grabbing me, he leaned down... and stared directly into my soul.

Bolts of electricity rushed through me, as if I was electrocuted. The mere depth of his dark eyes felt like an abyss.

"You’re lucky I heal fast," he said, voice low and dangerous. "Because if I didn’t, you’d be sewing your tongue back together right now."

’Isn’t that pure evil? What am I even saying, is not a psychopath for no reason.’

I parted my lips in disbelief. "You’d make me sew my own tongue?"

His eyes narrowed. "Yes."

"...With what thread?"

"Sit."

Immediately, I sat down, like my body could not defy his command.

He turned away, clearly done with my mouth and all its sins. But for some reason, my chest felt tighter.

Not out of fear this time. But with something else. Something warmer. Something that made my fingers fidget and my gaze follow him like a lost pup.

He didn’t kill me. He didn’t yell like he could’ve. He just... endured me.

The most powerful man in this pack, and he endured me.

What in the world was wrong with him?

And worse...

What in the world was wrong with me that I liked it?

I chewed on my inner cheek. My thoughts spiraled like autumn leaves in a storm. Was he playing with me? Was I playing with fire?

But somewhere in the corner of my chest, a quiet truth whispered.

Maybe I wasn’t pretending to faint because I was afraid of him.

Maybe I was afraid... of what I was starting to feel.

And worse, what he might feel too.

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