438. CRIME IN THE GARDEN

KATHERINE

I looked around the enormous palace, feeling a little tense.

Despite the luxury and the meticulous attention from the maids and footmen, even though I told Elliot I would accompany him, I was afraid.

Because this was the epicenter of hatred toward supernatural beings.

"Your Excellencies, what an honor to meet again," another person approached us in the vast hall, teeming with the elite of this hypocritical society.

Drinking elegantly and murmuring in low voices, we once again began the cycle of flattery, pretending to be courteous—or at least I did.

The truth was, outside the intimacy of our home, Elliot was a dog off his leash, or rather, a feral wolf.

His responses were so curt that I almost felt sorry for the guests, judging by the looks on their faces.

"War is like that—whoever gets there first takes it and can be sure it’s well defended," he replied to the marquis who had the nerve to ask about the newly acquired lands.

"I'll rip the head off anyone who tries to steal f
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