The Lycan King and his Dark Temptation (Valeria) novel Chapter 338

ELLIOT

"Mercy, please! Mr. Vittorio… it’s… it’s the Duke! PLEASE, HAVE MERCY, YOUR GRACE!"

One of the prisoners started screaming desperately as we passed, his voice carrying through the small iron-barred window on the heavy steel door.

His cries triggered a chain reaction—a chorus of pleading voices. And yet, down here, there were barely ten prisoners left waiting for death.

"SHUT UP, YOU DAMN DOGS, OR I’LL KILL YOU ALL RIGHT NOW!" Vittorio bellowed, enraged.

The sound of muffled sobs filled the air. I simply kept walking toward the door at the end of the corridor. The snap of a whip greeted me the moment Vittorio unlocked and pushed open the door.

I stepped inside, my eyes adjusting instantly to the dim candlelight flickering against the stone walls.

Strapped to a wooden X-shaped frame was the man who had once been my most trusted aide. His head hung low, his clothes reduced to shreds, barely clinging to his battered body. Open wounds bled freely across his skin.

I hadn’t even seen his back yet, but I knew it had to be worse.

I raised my hand, and the executioner immediately stopped lashing him.

Wallace groaned in agony. His unfocused eyes landed on me, and suddenly, it was as if he had come back to life.

"Y-Your Grace… I… I didn’t… betray you…"

"Leave us," I ordered. Vittorio and the executioner exited, and I felt them standing guard outside.

I stepped closer to the prisoner.

"You were the only one who knew about the inspection. The only one who knew the Duchess had discovered the grain hiding spots. And wasn’t it you who personally handled my carriage?" I asked, my voice razor-sharp with barely restrained fury.

"I… yes… I supervised the carriage… but I didn’t say anything, I—"

"So you knew about the secret hatch underneath?! SPEAK, DAMN IT!" My patience snapped.

I grabbed him by the throat, squeezing so hard he started choking.

My own breath came ragged. My jaw clenched, my muscles strained—I was holding myself back from ending him right here.

Still, he denied it, feigning confusion.

"You know what’s worse? If I hadn’t lived through it—if I hadn’t been seconds from death—I might have still believed your innocent face and fake tears."

Images flashed through my mind—her, bleeding out in my arms.

Both of us plummeting down the cliff.

The cold, relentless grasp of death clawing at us in the river.

"I… I didn’t… kn-know… about… the carriage…" he choked out, his eyes bulging in terror, tears streaking down his bloodied face.

He thrashed, trying to break free from my iron grip, but I only tightened it further.

"What is Duke Thesio planning? Whatever he paid you, I’ll double it if you talk. Tell me, Wallace, TELL ME!"

But no matter how I threatened him—no matter how close I came to strangling him—he kept pleading innocence.

"Bring the executioner back!" I roared, shoving him away in disgust, watching him cough and gag on his own spit and snot.

"Your Grace…"

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