How to Tame My Beastly Husband - Chapter 169

Raphael’s eyes were filled with murder, and Eucaly was terrified.

“Tell me what he promised you!” He roared. “What was your price for killing my wife?!”

His voice was filled with both fury and terror, his broken heart at the realization of how nearly he had lost Annette, and Eucaly almost wet herself as he snarled at her. Her breath caught and then she passed out.

Wordlessly, Raphael tore at the bars. The only thing that would satisfy him was killing her. He had finally learned what love was, he had learned what it was like to be loved, and he had almost lost everything. Because he had believed his father’s flattery, like a fool.

“Raphael! Raphael, what are you doing?”

“Raphael, stop, stop. Calm down, we have to keep her alive…”

“…Why?” He growled.

He would never be so far gone that he couldn’t hear Annette’s voice. Gently, she stroked his arm.

“There are still more things she might know. We might even turn her into a weapon against His Majesty. We might even be able to find evidence against him.”

Raphael paused. This was enough to placate him, and he drew a deep breath. She was right. It would be better if they could get evidence, and his anger wasn’t helping.

All he cared about was protecting Annette. He would no longer use his sword to subdue others, or to win a higher position in society. He would use it to protect the first person who had ever really loved him, his whole life. Posted only on NovelUtopia

His jaw clenched.

He didn’t even care about becoming Master of Swords. It was something he had longed for all his life, but as long as Annette was safe, he needed neither wealth nor glory. She was his treasure. It embarrassed him to think it, but it was true.

He desired nothing else.

It was as if he had discovered some great truth of the world. The anger faded from his eyes, and they took on their usual brilliance. Which was when he noticed the pair of worried eyes watching him.

“Raphael…” Annette whispered.

It felt like a gift when her lips shaped his name. He wanted to caress her soft cheeks, and he tossed the broken bar from the cell aside, forgetting everything else. His fingers felt strangely cold, but he barely noticed.

But Annette did. Her eyes shook with shock, and she pointed at the bar he had just flung aside.

“Raphael…the–the bar, it stuck…”

Raphael’s eyes widened.

The bar was stuck upright and humming into the stone floor, dug in as easily as a shovel sank into mud. Annette caught his wrist, her hand trembling, and lifted it up between them.

“Your hands are glowing,” she whispered. “They’re glowing, can you see it?”