Leah jolted awake, gasping for breath, surprised to find herself on a bed.
Wasn't I poisoned... How am I alive? The feeling of my organs melting while that crazy bitch laughed was too real...
Her eyes widened in disbelief as she saw the familiar wood-carved ceiling.
This is… her ex-husband's room in the palace.
Did the Alpha King save her?
Leah sat up in astonishment but yelped in pain as her body ached in unfamiliar places.
Her eyes bulged when the blanket slipped off her — she was naked, with hickeys covering her whole body.
She turned her head in horror to find the broad back of a man.
Crying out, she tried to hide herself under the blanket.
The blonde man turned around, frowning at the rustling. The handsome man with thick eyebrows scrunched his eyes open. Leah felt her breath hitch at the familiar blue eyes.
His eyes were deep and dark like an abyss. Leah's breath hitched as they sharpened.
"You...!"
Prince Damon Varkos...? What was her ex-husband doing in her bed?!
She grabbed the blanket, ready to sprint off, when he suddenly grabbed her arm, pulling her under.
The familiar tingling sensation spread at his touch that foolishly made her believe this man was her mate, before he cruelly divorced her three years ago.
He growled, "Did you spike my drink with wolfsbane?"
"Let me go! I didn't do it!" She desperately clung to the thin blanket between them and pounded his chest. "I almost died! I'm the one who was poisoned by your bitch!"
Though lethal to werewolves, wolfsbane couldn't kill lycans. Instead, it was used as an aphrodisiac because it lowered their inhibitions.
Her muddled mind could only register that it was another one of Clara, his public mistress's tricks to set her up.
Grabbing her hands, he narrowed his blazing eyes. "What are you trying to do here?"
She glared at him resentfully. He was always like that!
Even on her wedding night, Clara had spiked his drink with wolfsbane. No matter how desperately she told him she didn't do it, he wouldn't believe her, so she had no hope he would believe her now.
"Let me go! I didn't do anything, but everyone always makes me the criminal because of her!" Her tears clouded her eyes.
He had been generous with his alimony when he had kicked her to the curb — so generous that it made her one of the wealthiest women in the kingdom.
Her life had changed after that, and if it weren't for Clara's dirty tricks, she would have peacefully lived out her days in silence, but that witch framed her again, even tried to kill her!
Although she was alive, she now knew this was another trick by Clara!
Damon, on the other hand, was losing his temper.
Let go…?
This woman, who had tried everything to sleep with him even before their marriage, was acting like he had taken advantage of her — after she had gone as far as spiking his drink so he would mark her?
Staring at her, Damon could see she was glaring at him resentfully, despite the tears fading in her hair.
Damon scoffed, pulling her up by her hand. Her other hand quickly grabbed the blanket.
"Are you playing hard to get now?" His low voice was tinted with danger as he took her in.
The glaring woman was so pale that his marks bloomed like roses on her skin. Her angry, wide eyes were the most ethereal shade of blue, making his throat dry.
His body was reacting to her again, and by the way she was avoiding even looking at his bare chest, she wasn't immune to the mood either.
"I have never spiked your drink. I almost died myself!" Leah tried to pull her hand away, only to find he was too strong. "Let go of me!"
Glaring at him with puffed up her cheeks, she reminded him of his childhood pet bird, who would flail, huff, and puff just like this when cornered.
He couldn't help smirking.
As she wriggles to get away from the blanket slid off her body. Both of them stilled, and the temperature rose several degrees.
Damon's eyes traced down her figure. He was just going to tease her before letting her go, but...
He tried to move his eyes away, but then Leah's eyes fell on the bulge under the blanket. Gasping, she quickly tried to run, unknowingly rubbing against him.
"Don't move!" He gritted out.
Leah blushed so hard her face burned as she tried to wrench her wrist free.
After the incident on their wedding night, he would not sleep in the same room, let alone touch her.
When they divorced, her reputation was so ruined that she could hardly leave her house, so suddenly looking at a naked man turned her into a burning tomato.
"Let me go! Isn't Clara enough for you that you would fall so low as to sleep with a scared woman like me?" Leah snapped angrily.
He frowned at the nonsense she was spouting with her trembling pouty lips. Flashes of the moans that had slipped past those pouty lips last night assaulted his mind.
Damon's eyes darkened.
Leah, though, felt humiliated as he stared at her scared face. If it were not for his mistress's jealousy, would she be this ugly?
"Let go!" Leah wiggled, trying to untangle herself from him, and Damon couldn't help drawing in a sharp breath.
"Leah!" he growled.
"What!" Leah snapped back. "Wasn't I too disgusting for you to bed? Isn't sleeping with Clara enough for you anymore?"
Saying what she had been holding back for years, Leah suddenly burst into tears.
Since the Wolfborn Pack had brought her in, she had been compared to Clara — and she could never win.
Clara was already everyone's Princess Varkos. Even now, as she poisoned her, no one would believe her.
Damon's eyes darkened, leaning down. "If I were fucking Clara, what would I need a wife for?"
"Wife?" Leah's eyes widened. "I'm not your wife anymore!"
Damon narrowed his eyes. "Didn't you go through all this to sleep with me?"
"I didn't do anything! I just passed out and woke up here!" Leah shouted.
Damon grabbed her neck where the hickies were. "Why do you think lycans marry without marks?"