The Contract Wife Tries to Leave - Chapter 114
The experiment was called off at that point. Victoria left, promising to look into it further and get back to Johanna later. Left alone, Johanna considered drawing again but decided instead to lie down and rest. Maybe it was the magic exertion, something she wasn’t used to, that made her feel so drained.
The following night, Annette rushed to Johanna’s side with urgent news.
“Madam, you must go to the Marquis immediately.”
There was no need to ask what had happened—Johanna knew at once. Leonid’s rut had begun in earnest. She gave a short nod, quickly throwing on a robe over her nightgown.
As she walked down the dimly lit hallway, her heart pounded uncontrollably despite her best efforts to remain calm. The tension parched her throat, and her clenched fists grew clammy with cold sweat. Fear? Perhaps. The thought of facing Leonid in his rut left her uneasy, unsure of what to expect.
When she arrived outside Leonid’s bedroom, she hesitated, debating whether to knock. Annette, sensing her hesitation, motioned for her to enter without delay. Johanna obeyed, opening the door without knocking.
Immediately, the thick, overwhelming scent of Alpha pheromones hit her like a wave.
“Ugh…”
The intensity made her stagger. It felt as though she were sinking into a cloud of heavy perfume, suffocating and inescapable. Her body trembled as she stepped inside, trying to steady herself. The room was dark, and she couldn’t see Leonid anywhere.
The suffocating pheromones filled every corner of the room, making it hard to breathe. She carefully stepped forward, her eyes scanning the dim surroundings. Where is he? she wondered, anxiety building in her chest.
Just then, the bathroom door suddenly flung open.
But instead of the warm, steamy air she expected, a cold, freezing gust of air rushed out, chilling her to the bone.
Leonid stood at the threshold, drenched, glaring at Johanna. Water dripped from his jet-black hair, pooling at his feet. His usual detached demeanor was gone, replaced by a sharp, predatory look in his sunset-colored eyes, far more intense than usual.
“…Marquis.”
Johanna called out to him softly. She steeled herself, knowing she had to be careful not to provoke him. Victoria’s advice echoed in her mind—she had to treat him like one would when facing a wolf in the wild, with caution and calm.
“Why are you here?”
“…What?”
It took a while for him to finally speak, and his words were startlingly unexpected. Why was she here? Surely, he knew the reason. Or was he irritated? Given his usual temperament, it was entirely possible.
“I…,” Johanna began, unsure of how to respond.
“You’ve been avoiding me,” he said, cutting her off.
“…”
So, he was upset. Johanna quickly averted her eyes, nervously licking her dry lips.
“Are you going to stay with me?”
He took a step closer, the intensity of his pheromones thickening the already oppressive atmosphere in the room. Johanna inhaled deeply, steadying herself, and then nodded in silence.
Why did that question sound so vulnerable? she wondered. It was almost tender, and that confused her. Was her mind playing tricks on her in this high-tension moment?
“I’m barely holding it together right now. That’s why I dumped cold water on myself.”
He let out a self-deprecating chuckle as he untied the loose belt of his robe. Instantly, his well-defined abs, muscular thighs, and the full extent of his arousal were revealed.
Johanna, witnessing the indecent sight, instinctively dropped her head, her face burning with embarrassment. Her cheeks, neck, and even the tips of her ears flushed with heat. No matter how many times she had seen him like this, it never got any easier.
“Did you just shower?”
“Yes, just now…”
“If you hadn’t, I was going to wash you myself.”
He murmured, his voice unusually soft.
Before Johanna realized it, he was standing right in front of her. His large hand cupped her cheek, and she looked up, her gaze locking with his. His eyes, golden like amber and flecked with starlight, reflected her face in them.
“If we start, I might lose control.”
“…I understand.”
“I won’t be able to treat you with care like usual.”
Not that he was particularly gentle even on normal occasions, she thought to herself, but still nodded her approval.
A faint smile crossed Leonid’s lips as he effortlessly lifted Johanna into his arms. His destination was clear—the sofa in the middle of the room, where he gently placed her down.
