Mated to the Mad Lord-Chapter 84: Stay still!

"I only stabbed you in the chest, but I’m sure even now your body is trying to vigorously heal!" Nathan whispered to the man sprawled on the floor. His voice was calm, almost casual, but there was an edge to it—a dangerous glint in his green eyes that contrasted sharply with the blood pooling beneath the werewolf.

The bound man’s eyes flared with anger, his muffled attempts to speak cut off by the gag Nathan had secured over his mouth. Blood stained his chest, the silver knife still embedded deeply in his flesh, keeping the wound open. Each breath rattled weakly, his strength drained not just by the injury but by the metallic poison now coursing through his veins. The werewolf’s limbs twitched in vain, his body desperately trying to regenerate around the silver—a futile effort as long as the blade remained.

Nathan stood over him, a cold smirk twisting his lips. "You can’t shift back with that knife in your chest, can you?" he said softly, crouching down to meet the werewolf’s hate-filled gaze. "No matter how much your body wants to heal, it can’t. But don’t worry," he added, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper, "you won’t die yet. Not until I’ve finished with her."

With a grunt of effort, Nathan dragged the struggling werewolf up the last few steps of the staircase, ignoring the beast’s muffled snarls. Blood smeared the floorboards behind them in a dark, glistening trail. Nathan paused in front of the door, his lips curling into a smile as a plan formed in his mind.

"At first, I wanted you dead," he muttered under his breath, his gaze flickering to the closed door ahead, "but maybe you’ll be useful after all."

With one final heave, Nathan propped the werewolf’s limp, trembling body against the wall beside the door. Taking a step back, he tucked away the other weapons concealed in his coat, making sure the small silver blade strapped to his wrist was hidden but accessible. Then, he raised his hand and knocked loudly on the door.

"Viole! It’s me, Nathan!" he called out, his voice soft and urgent.

Inside the room, Violet was curled up against the wall, her knees pulled to her chest as silent tears streaked her face. She heard the knock and froze, her head jerking up at the sound of a voice—a familiar voice.

"Viole! Can I come in?" Nathan’s voice was muffled but filled with urgency. "Please! I’m scared!"

Violet hesitated, her trembling hands clutching the dagger she had taken from the table earlier. Her heart pounded in her chest, a mixture of fear and cautious relief surging through her veins. She crawled toward the door, pressing her ear against it to listen more closely.

"Nathan?" she whispered shakily, her voice barely audible. "Is that you?"

"Yes! Yes, it’s me! Please, hurry! Let me in before someone comes!" Nathan replied, his tone frantic.

Violet hesitated for a moment longer, her wide eyes scanning the room. Her grip tightened around the dagger’s hilt as she crawled to the door, leaning down to peer through the tiny gap beneath it. She couldn’t see anything—just shadows shifting faintly in the dim light.

But it was Nathan’s voice. And he sounded scared.

She took a deep breath, wiped the tears from her cheeks, and unlocked the door, cracking it open just enough to peek out.

The moment she did, she came face-to-face with Nathan. He stood mere inches away, his green eyes fixed on hers with an intensity that made her stomach churn. He leaned into the doorframe, his breath shallow and labored, as though he had been running.

"Viole! Hurry! Let me in!" he said quickly, his voice trembling.

Violet nodded, pulling the door open wider to let him inside—but her eyes caught on something behind him. She froze, her gaze locking onto the crumpled figure on the floor.

It was the werewolf from earlier—the one she had seen battling the Red before she ran for safety. Now he lay on the ground, tied up and thrashing weakly, his mouth gagged and his eyes pleading. Blood seeped from the knife buried in his chest, soaking the fabric of his clothes and pooling on the floorboards beneath him.

"What the—" Violet began, but before she could finish, she felt the cold press of a blade against her neck.

Her breath hitched. Her wide, horrified eyes snapped back to Nathan, whose expression had shifted entirely. The fear and urgency were gone, replaced by a cold, calculating glare.

"Step back," he ordered, his voice low and menacing.

"Nathan...?" she whispered, her voice trembling as the blade pressed more firmly against her skin.

"Don’t make me kill you now," he hissed, his gaze boring into hers with a chilling lack of emotion.

Violet stumbled backward, the dagger in her hand trembling as she pointed it at him. She couldn’t process what was happening—why Nathan, someone she had trusted, was suddenly threatening her.

Nathan stepped inside, dragging the bound werewolf with him. He slammed the door shut behind him, his movements deliberate and calm, as though he had done this a thousand times before.

"Nathan! The guard is on our side! What the hell are you doing?" Violet shouted, her voice breaking with panic.

Nathan chuckled darkly, shaking his head as he began removing the weapons hidden beneath his coat and lining them up neatly on the floor.

"Viole," he said, his tone dripping with mockery, "it was fine when you were completely stupid. But now? Just the sight of you disgusts me."

Violet’s knees nearly buckled beneath her. "What are you talking about?" she whispered, tears pooling in her eyes.

Nathan ignored her, picking up a small silver blade and twirling it lazily between his fingers. "Rexter forbade me from killing you," he continued, his voice calm but laced with venom. "But that doesn’t mean I can’t do other things."

"Rexter...?" Violet’s voice faltered as realization dawned.

Nathan smirked at her horrified expression. "Yes, Viole. I work for Rexter. And yes, I’m going to kill you."

Violet stumbled back, her hand clutching the dagger in front of her like a lifeline.

"Do you plan to use that?," Nathan asked, his smirk widening into a cruel grin, "Do you even know how?"

Violet’s heart raced as Nathan began to close the distance between them, the knife glinting ominously in his hand.

"So, here’s how this will go," he said, his tone almost conversational. "You were hiding here when you heard a knock at the door. It was a guard, and you let him in. He promised to help you, but then..." Nathan’s voice grew darker, his smile more twisted.

"The guard decides he wants to fuck you. Not that it should be a problem for you—a disgusting, seducing whore like you!" fгeewebnovёl.com

"Nathan! What the—"

"Shut up!" he snapped, his eyes blazing with fury.

Violet flinched, tears streaming down her face as she backed into the wall.

"The guard tries to force himself on you. There’s a struggle. You stab him," Nathan continued coldly. "But not before he wounds you—a lot. By the time Cain finds you, you’re naked and bleeding out on the floor."

Violet’s stomach churned as she realized what he was planning.

"Why...why are you doing this?" she stammered, her voice trembling with desperation. "I never did anything to hurt you!" her voice louder filled with desperation.

"Why should there be two of us when only one of us can do the job? Moreover, I’m professional enough not to seduce the target!"

Nathan’s gaze darkened, and he took another step toward her. "Also, with you gone, Cain won’t care who his next servant is. And that’s all I need."

Before she could respond, Nathan lunged. Violet barely managed to raise her dagger in defense, but she wasn’t fast enough. Pain exploded in her side as Nathan’s knife plunged into her stomach.

She gasped, her vision blurring as she felt his breath against her ear.

"Relax," Nathan whispered, his breath hot against her ear as her vision blurred with tears. "If you stand still, this will be over soon."