Transmigrated: The Lycan King's Pet
Chapter 78 Psychopath Acting Nice

Chapter 78: Chapter 78 Psychopath Acting Nice

"Hmm... sounds reasonable, but I will not go against my own beliefs and rules." He turned his back to me.

"What?"

’This psychopath is really a hard nut to crack.’

"Why can’t you just let them go? It’s not like they had cast a spell or something." I rubbed the side of my head.

Something unreadable flickered through his eyes. He turned to me again, his face stern as if it was carved out of stone. "It is the rule in Bloodshade Pack—no witchcraft or magic allowed within its walls. If you are caught guilty, you will pay with your life."

"That’s so absurd! They are living creatures too! Why must you hate them because of some baseless reasons?!"

"Baseless reasons? Ember, you will not speak to me in that manner!" His jaw tightened, his eyes narrowed as if he wanted to skin me alive.

"I don’t see any reason why you have to kill them, master. They are my friends! My sisters! I can’t just watch them die." Tears streamed out of my angry eyes.

"Because you don’t see any reason doesn’t mean there is none." His voice dropped low.

Shivers ran down my spine from his dominating aura.

"Then why don’t you let me know? Let me understand you."

"Why? Because you think I have a soft spot for you?" His lips curved up in a sinister smirk.

’This bastard.’

"No, because as much as it is about you, at the same time it is not. I just want to save the people that matter to me."

"What about me?" He tilted his head.

My gaze locked with his. I tried to read his emotions, but it was just too cold and chilling—like someone who had locked all the warmth away in a closet and tossed the keys.

"What about you?" I asked with furrowed brows.

His eyes darted to my palms, which were already blistered from contact with the silver rod.

He walked closer to me, his large frame towering over me. I looked up, craning my neck. But his gaze remained on them, his throat bobbed up and down.

"You are injured?" He clicked his tongue. He glanced at me, and all I could see was the irritation and annoyance dancing within his dark eyes.

He grabbed my wrist, pulling me to the chair close to his bed. He grabbed a small black bottle and a bandage from underneath the table.

He sat down, and the next moment, he yanked me to himself. The surroundings tilted in my eyes before I crashed into his chest, which looked like it was sculpted to perfection. My chest pressed firmly against his, our faces a few inches from meeting. My heart skittered in my chest, pounding heavily in my ears that I feared it was going to leap out of my chest.

For a moment, the world seemed to have ceased to exist. His eyes were the most beautiful yet dangerous ones I had ever seen.

I wanted to look away, but for some strange reason, it felt like I was being pulled by them, like magnets.

My eyes traced down to his lips. I swallowed in a daze.

"We can do it now, if you want to?"

His sarcastic voice brought me out of my stupor. My chest heaved for breath; I hadn’t realized I had stopped breathing for that moment.

I scrambled to get off him, but he pulled me back. "Stay still," he growled.

Jolts of tingling sensation rushed through me. My stomach churned, my body responded to him not in fear but with something I couldn’t quite name.

He made me sit on his lap. My face flushed like a tomato. ’What the heck is going on with me? Wake up, Ember, don’t romanticize this toxicity. He is toxic!’ My mind screamed at me.

I wriggled from his embrace in panic, my butt moving roughly against his legs.

He muttered some curses under his breath, his strong arms wrapped around my waist, pulling me closer. The heat from his chest radiated through me, causing something very familiar to stir between my legs.

"Stay still." His chest rumbled. His hot breath fanned my ear before he bit the ear lightly.

’What is going on?! Why did he go from cold to flirting? What is happening? What is happening?! This is too much for me to handle. He doesn’t like to touch women, why is he being too intimate? Fuck, I might lose it at this point!’

In my attempt to remove his arms, I injured my blistered palm. A cry escaped from my mouth as I held my hands weakly a few inches away to avoid irritating it again.

Damon hissed. "If you move again, I’m going to punish you." He positioned me adjacent to him. He grabbed one of my hands.

His brows furrowed together as if he was about to solve a puzzle. He grabbed the bottle with his other hand, uncorked it, then sprinkled the white powder inside it on my palm.

Watching him treat my wounds was like a dream I couldn’t fathom having. He was so serious, as if he was doing a very important job and couldn’t afford to make mistakes.

I had the urge to soothe out those furrowed brows, but the moment the powder touched my palm—it was like thousands of ants were biting me.

Argh.

My eyes welled up. I retracted my hand immediately, but he held it firmly, pulling it back and adding more of the strange powder on it.

Tears streamed down my cheeks. "It hurts."

"Hmmm... it is supposed to. That’s why it’s called medicine. You have low healing properties as an Omega. This will help heal your wounds," he said, not averting his gaze from my hand. "Now stop crying like a baby."

’A baby? Of course, I’m a baby when you compare my life to this current one. I’ve been pampered all my life, what did he expect?’

He took the bandage and began to wrap it around my hand.

’But why is he acting nice now? It’s so strange, especially when he had a fight with Alpha Allison. He should be tearing down walls now in a fit of anger. Why is he so calm and acting out of character?’

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