The Lycan King's Fate Calling (Shawn Gibson and Sylvia) novel Chapter 450

Rufus' POV:

The she-wolf in front of me trembled all over and knelt on the floor. Her cheeks were stained with tears, and her hair was messy. I could keenly see the red hand marks I left on her neck.

"Ashley?" I sat at the table and stared at her coldly. The rage that stirred in my heart was getting more and more uncontrollable.

The slave nodded timidly, her eyes wide with panic and uneasiness.

I snorted. Obviously, this was Geoffrey's doing.

When the slave pushed me to the bed just now, I had already known that something was wrong. The restlessness in my body wasn't from lust, but from the approaching full moon.

If she really was Sylvia, her scent would've comforted me. Although this fake smelled exactly like Sylvia, her scent only served to irritate me even more.

The second I realized this, the woman in front of me started to change. It was Ashley, the female slave who had performed at the banquet earlier. I almost strangled her to death. It was Omar who stopped me and was my voice of reason.

I took a deep breath and smelled something murky floating in the air. It was coming from the slave. It smelled so terrible that I nearly lost control of myself.

Fortunately, I managed to force myself to calm down, despite my eyes turning a devilish red. First of all, I needed to figure out how she made herself look and even smell like Sylvia.

Just then, the slave stumbled over to me and made random gestures. She had hinted that she couldn't speak from the beginning.

"You want a piece of paper and a pen?" I asked coldly.

The slave nodded vigorously. Fear seemed to overtake her because she began to cry again.

I squeezed my eyes shut and tried not to fly into a rage. Annoyed beyond belief, I reached for a pen and paper from the table and threw them to her.

The slave picked up the pen in a hurry and started scrawling on the paper with her trembling hand.

A few seconds later, she gingerly placed the note on the table and quickly retreated back to the bedside, fearing that I would kill her.

Snorting impatiently, I picked up the note and tried to read it. The handwriting on it was so messy that I could barely make out a word.

I looked at what was left of the note in the ashtray and put my thoughts in order for a while.

Then I stood up and walked to the slave.

The slave was so frightened that she covered her face in her hands and shrank into the corner.

I continued walking to her expressionlessly.

She knelt on the floor, crying and kowtowing to me, stripped of any semblance of dignity. She opened her mouth and seemed to want to say something, but she couldn't make a sound.

The vampire slave looked up at me with wide eyes, looking extremely desperate.

But what was she afraid of?

I wasn't planning to kill her.