The Villainess Winning Back Her Beast Husbands-Chapter 125: What Gives You the Right to Touch Her?
"When...?" Lachlan’s throat worked, his Adam’s apple bobbing with difficulty as he stared at her, unblinking.
Evangeline’s lips curled into a smile, her fingertip lightly tracing across his taut chest. "It was taken when we went to Argent Spire for the tribal trading convention, to buy medicinal herbs. Do you like it?"
Lachlan gazed at Evangeline, a low chuckle suddenly rumbling in his throat, tinged with his unique, cool detachment.
His voice was ethereal and clear, yet each word was enunciated with weight. "I do. I like it very much."
"Then, what’s next...?" Evangeline leaned in, pressing her red lips to Lachlan’s.
But before she could continue, Thorne’s voice shattered the moment. "Eva! The Everwake escaped!"
Evangeline’s lovely eyes narrowed. She straightened, the taste of Lachlan still on her lips.
She slowly, methodically, draped her clothes back on. When she slid the bamboo door open, the outer corners of her narrow eyes were still tinged with a lingering, amorous flush.
Evangeline stood in the doorway, her robes half-open. Beyond the bright red marks on her collarbones and chest, her allure was on full, decadent display. She looked at Thorne. "He escaped?"
The night had passed, but the torrential rain continued unabated.
The stench of alcohol on Thorne had faded. His gaze, which had softened like spring water the moment it fell on Evangeline, instantly turned to ice when he saw Lachlan emerge behind her. The hostility roiling in his dark green eyes was like a sword thrust at Lachlan.
Thorne said nothing, his gaze fixed coldly on Lachlan’s face in a silent accusation.
’By what right did you touch her?’
But a moment later, Thorne’s pupils constricted, and his whole body trembled.
’A Seven-star Pattern?’
’In just one night, Lachlan, who had a Five-star pattern, had leaped to a Seven-star Pattern. Every line of that new pattern stung his eyes. Now Lachlan was actually his equal? By what right?’
The taste of rust flooded Thorne’s throat. He ground his back teeth together so hard they ached.
He had desperately chugged bowl after bowl of Spiritual Wine, hoping to break through to the Nine-star Extreme Realm. Yet after one night, nothing had changed. Aside from feeling unusually energized, his stamina so abundant it bordered on agitation, the Star Pattern Power within him remained as stagnant as dead water, showing no sign of growth whatsoever!
’That bastard Lachlan did nothing—he even hurt Eva! Yet he just had to get ahead of me, to be the first to win our female master’s favor.’ Thorne clenched his fists, unable to suppress the bitter jealousy churning in his chest.
He had no right to interfere with whom Eva liked, whom she was willing to accept, or whom she chose to be with.
’But why did it have to be the male who had hurt her? Did she really like Lachlan that much?’
That would have been one thing. But Lachlan had spent a single night with Eva and broken through two Star Pattern levels in an instant, becoming his equal!
A foul resentment festered in Thorne’s heart. The repressed fury seared his insides.
He’d been utterly cheated!
Evangeline’s fingertips nonchalantly gathered her loose robes. "Did he just escape?"
"He was gone when I woke up this morning. He probably fled back to the Umbral Abyss." Thorne’s voice was taut, but he forcibly suppressed the violent energy surging through him as he spoke to Evangeline.
Lachlan’s gaze was cold, but he turned to Evangeline and said gently, "Don’t worry. I’ll find him for you."
Thorne shifted slightly. The sharp bone knife at his waist glinted coldly, its edge looking sharp enough to slice through the curtain of rain.
He narrowed his dark green, slitted pupils, his lips twisting into a grim, cold smirk. "Is it your place to be currying favor? Or do you need me to remind you who forced Eva to suffer the backlash from breaking your contract?"
Thorne’s long fingers brushed over the hilt of his knife. "Do you have any idea how much pain she was in?"
Lachlan’s grayish-brown eyes constricted as if he’d been struck by a poisoned needle, and a violent tremor ran through him.
He instinctively took half a step closer to Evangeline, his fingers clutching the edge of her draping sleeve. He was so stiff and trembling that even the Jade Pearls woven into his hair chimed with a faint, fractured sound.
Lachlan’s normally cool and aloof face was now frighteningly pale, his heart aching with a physical pain.
The corners of Evangeline’s eyes lifted, her gaze soft and gentle. "Go back inside. I have my own ways of dealing with The Everwake. Don’t worry."
With that, she leaned forward. Her fingertips slid down Lachlan’s tense wrist and into his palm, where she gave a gentle, soothing scratch. Pressing close to his ear, she whispered, her breath warm against his skin, "It didn’t hurt."
Lachlan’s breath hitched. Those three words were like honey spread over the wound in his heart—a mixture of agonizing sweetness.
Evangeline withdrew her hand and turned towards Thorne.
She abruptly reached out and took his sinewy arm, shocking Thorne so much he went completely still.
His Adam’s apple bobbed violently, a dark tide churning in his slitted, green eyes. His voice was raw. "Eva?"
Evangeline gazed up at Thorne’s deep-set features. She rose onto her tiptoes, her breath caressing his sharp, angular jaw.
Her slender fingertips traced the lines of his muscles. Feeling his body tremble at her touch, she smiled, her gaze bewitching. "Has the wine worn off? Are you feeling uncomfortable at all?"
Thorne let out a choked grunt and slowly shook his head, a hint of softness and confusion in his handsome features.
Evangeline suddenly let out a soft laugh, the corners of her eyes crinkling with mischief. "Well then, want to help me find someone?"
Her jet-black hair cascaded over his arm like a waterfall, sending a faint, tingling numbness through him.
Thorne’s Adam’s apple bobbed. He nodded numbly. His usually grim, cold expression softened, revealing a clumsy obedience, as if every scale on his body had smoothed down, losing all its sharp edges.
Seeing him like this, Evangeline felt a mix of amusement and ruefulness.
’I was going to give him a shortcut, but I didn’t expect the blockhead to be so foolish.’
"Let’s go." Evangeline walked with Thorne’s arm in hers, her pace unhurried. Following the "Thousand-Mile Thread" extending from her fingertip, she was perfectly calm and unconcerned, not at all worried about The Everwake getting away.
’With his current abilities, trying to cross the Beastman Continent during the rainy season is nothing but a pipe dream.’
’A Phantomwing is naturally frail. Without his power of illusion and no Swarm to escort him, he probably won’t even make it out of Blackwater Swamp’s territory. I’ll take my time. Rescuing him when he’s at his most pathetic will be perfect.’
As they were leaving Blackwater Swamp, Evangeline suddenly stopped and looked back.
Strange bubbles rose from the viscous mire in the downpour, but the once-incessant scraping of Scale Armor was completely gone.
She raised an eyebrow, a flicker of surprise in her eyes. "Have the Blackwater Beastmen migrated?"
"Blackwater Beastmen?" Thorne started, his attention finally pulled from the soft warmth of her arm. He collected himself. "On my way here, I did see some Beastmen leaving this territory."
Thorne’s gaze swept over the silent swamp. "Were they fleeing from The Swarm?"
"Probably," Evangeline said, her expression nonchalant. She didn’t seem concerned.
’Those Blackwater Beastmen must have listened to Nix. They didn’t want to stay here and die for nothing, so the whole clan migrated. That’s fine by me. At least it’ll be quiet for the rest of the rainy season.’
For the rest of the journey, Evangeline made sporadic small talk, but Thorne’s brow remained tightly furrowed. He was clearly distracted, only occasionally offering a low murmur in response, his gaze lost somewhere in the distance.
Evangeline suddenly stepped in front of him, blocking his path. She tilted her head, a hint of a smile in her eyes. "Are you angry?"
The oiled-paper umbrella in Thorne’s hand was on the verge of snapping, his knuckles white from the force of his grip.
His dark green eyes stared fixedly at Evangeline. His voice was low and hoarse, each word seeming to be ground out from between his teeth. "You said... you would bear me a cub when you returned."
The harsh edge of his voice trembled slightly, betraying a sense of desolation and grievance.
