Chapter 428-My Mate Is A Serial Killer

Verity:

I swallowed hard and turned toward the woods, almost wishing the deer would come back and do something ridiculously cute so the severity would disappear from Ragnar’s face.

But apparently, no one was coming to save me tonight.

"Because you said the Fox King isn’t real," I reasoned. "Maybe that child grew up hearing those stories and convinced herself she saw him. It could’ve been a rogue or just some random person wandering through the woods. Maybe even someone homeless."

I bit the inside of my bottom lip, desperately searching for something more convincing.

Then an excuse finally struck me.

"And I saw the deer!" I blurted, pointing accusingly at Ragnar. "I thought you were going to shoot it. That’s why I jumped in."

It sounded reasonable enough to me.

Ragnar, however, didn’t look remotely convinced.

He stood there with the gun in one hand and his phone in the other before suddenly stepping toward me.

Without explanation, he grabbed my hand and shoved his phone into my palm.

I frowned, turning it slightly in confusion. The flashlight was still on.

Before I could ask what he was doing, Ragnar caught my other hand and began pulling me behind him.

That was when I understood.

He hadn’t handed me the phone because he needed me to light the way.

He needed one of his hands free so he could keep hold of me.

It was so awkward. He took me all the way back, opened the door, let go of my arm, and pointed inside.

I slowly stepped in, with him following right behind me. A second later, I heard the door slam shut.

Then he took the phone from my hand, switched off the flashlight, and moved ahead to stand behind a chair.

Looking straight at me, he grabbed the backrest, lifted the chair slightly off the ground, and tapped it against the floor two or three times.

It was his way of telling me where I needed to sit.

I walked over and lowered myself into the chair while he moved to the other one.

This time, however, he dragged it much closer and shoved the small round table between us aside.

He slammed his phone and the gun down on top of it.

I felt as though I were under investigation, and why wouldn’t I?

He leaned forward, resting one forearm across his thigh while propping his chin between two fingers of his other hand.

His foot began tapping against the floor as he stared at me without so much as blinking.

"What do you know about him?" Ragnar asked, making me frown and tilt my head.

"About the Fox King?" I asked.

He blinked once, and when his eyes opened again, they remained half-lidded, as though he were judging me for trying so hard to play dumb.

"I only know what you’ve told me, or whatever stories my father used to tell me," I mumbled, slowly folding my hands in my lap as I squirmed beneath his hard stare.

"You said it was your brother who used to tell you stories," he corrected, making me gulp.

"Yeah. My brother was like a father figure to me."

The moment I said it, I saw the frustration settle over him.

He pulled his fingers away from his chin and clasped his hands together, his fists tightening against each other until his knuckles stood out.

"You’ve been oddly fixated on the Fox King. Even when you went through my PC, the first thing you searched was why the name ’Fox King’ had been banned from the internet."

His voice turned raspy, and my breath caught.

He had never brought that up before.

That was the thing I hated about him.

He bottled everything up, tucked it away somewhere in that calculating mind of his, and brought it back out when it suited him.

You could fool yourself into thinking you had escaped trouble, only to realize too late that he had been collecting evidence against you the entire time, waiting for the right moment to strike.

"Yeah, I was curious about him," I admitted. "Like I said, I’d heard all those stories."

When I tried to continue, he raised a finger and slowly wagged it at me.

"Have you seen him too?"

This time, his voice took on an even more unsettling edge, but despite the unease crawling through me, I caught onto one particular word.

Too?

"Have you seen him too?" I repeated, emphasizing the last word.

His jaw tightened, and his eyes narrowed even further as he stared at me.

He kept staring at me. Then he stretched one hand out across the table and began drumming his fingers against the surface.

After a while, I tipped my head back and drew in a deep breath.

"Why did you lie to me? You told me he was just a myth."

I no longer bothered trying to sound confused, innocent, or even stupid for some reason.

I kept fucking up in front of him, even though I knew Ragnar liked his women decent and well put together, and that was exactly how I was supposed to lure him in.

Somehow, I always ended up doing the complete opposite.

I didn’t even know why. It just happened without me meaning to.

But this conversation required me to keep a clear head and behave properly.

"That’s none of your business," he muttered.

"You’re not supposed to talk about the Fox King," he hissed.

Before I could argue, he pointed toward the window, outside where the kid and her mother were.

"You know that kid? She was horrified. Screaming when she saw that monster, that serial killer. You don’t talk about him like that. You’ll summon him."

His warning made me draw in another slow breath before shaking my head.

"Then why don’t you summon him if you want to kill him or arrest him?"

Ragnar squeezed his eyes shut, and the veins along his neck and temples stood out.

"No, Alpha King Ragnar. You cannot keep throwing me those murderous looks and expect me to shut up," I snapped, growing irritated with the way he acted as though I were the one making things difficult.

My outburst seemed to catch him off guard. He looked at me, then turned slightly to the side as his foot began striking the floor even harder.

"I want to know why you have that gun. Did you know you were going to encounter him? Have you ever encountered him before? What the hell is going on?"

His fist tightened.

Then he straightened his back and laced both hands behind his neck, his broad shoulders widening as his elbows jutted out to either side.

He leaned his head back for a moment before dropping his arms again.

The way his composure was unraveling made something uneasy twist inside me.

Then, in a voice so soft it was almost broken, he said, "The Fox King killed my family."

The confession left me stunned.