The Mind-Reading Mate: Why Is the Lycan King So Obsessed With Me? Chapter 276: The Stranger Behind His Eyes

Although Primrose was on the verge of madness, that didn’t an she had forgotten the color of her husband’s eyes.

Edmund’s eyes were always ice blue, a color so cold it could rival the Forsaken North itself, yet they turned soft and warm every ti he looked at her.

She knew her husband could change his appearance, but he had never done so in front of her unless absolutely necessary. It was because Primrose once told him that her type was a man with dark hair and blue eyes.

That was why she couldn’t understand ... why did he suddenly change his eye color to green?

She was sure they were still blue when he first walked into the room.

When had they changed?

Was it the mont his thoughts went silent?

A sudden chill ran down her spine, and goosebumps rose across her arms.

Sothing wasn’t right.

"Edmund, did you change your eye color?" Primrose asked again, this ti in a much softer voice. She even leaned her head back slightly, putting a bit of distance between them.

At that mont, she swore she saw sothing shift in Edmund’s eyes. It didn’t look like his gaze at all, more like a stranger’s, and it scared her.

"I thought you’d never notice."

Primrose’s eyes widened as Edmund suddenly smiled widely, sothing he rarely did, or rather ... almost never.

But instead of looking friendly, that smile only made him look terrifying.

No, it was different from Edmund’s usual scary smile, the one he forced when he didn’t know how to smile properly.

This smile felt natural, like it belonged to him.

He looked like soone who enjoyed being unsettling, like one of those creepy clowns from horror stories, the kind that hides in the dark sewers and lures children in with a grin.

No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t find even a sliver of comfort in that face.

Her gut scread it loud and clear: He wasn’t Edmund.

"W-what are you?!" Primrose shoved his chest, trying to climb off his lap. But since her legs couldn’t move, she nearly fell to the floor instead.

Fortunately—or maybe unfortunately—the so-called Edmund caught her before she could fall. He even held her hand as she kept trying to push him away.

"Why are you being so rude?" asked her husband, or maybe not. Primrose wasn’t so sure anymore.

He looked disappointed, but at the sa ti, like he was simply toying with her. "Wouldn’t it be nicer if you said ’who’ instead of ’what’?" He smiled again, teasing. "I an, sweetheart, I’m not a thing."

Who cared whether he was a who or a what? She was just completely confused and worried for her husband.

If the man in front of her truly wasn’t Edmund, then ... where was her real husband?!

Did that an she’d been crying and hugging soone else this whole ti?

No. No, that didn’t make sense.

She had clearly heard his thoughts earlier, and there was no way anyone could mimic his mind that perfectly.

As if reading her fears, the man in front of her said calmly, "Don’t worry, your husband’s fine. He’s just ... well, let’s say resting."

Primrose frowned. "What do you an resting? So then ... what are you? A mimic? When did you swap places with my husband?"

No—wrong question. That didn’t matter right now.

She imdiately grabbed his collar and shouted, "Where is my husband?! Did you do sothing bad to him?!"

Unexpectedly, he started laughing as she shook him. "Co on, why do you like grabbing my collar so much? Do you enjoy choking a man? I can tell your hus—"

Primrose pulled his collar so hard that their faces were only inches apart. "Tell ." Her voice was low and cold now. "Where. Is. My. Husband."

Her gaze deepened, and in that mont, all of her fear disappeared. She didn’t have ti to be scared because finding Edmund mattered more than anything else.

He didn’t answer right away. Instead, he gently placed Primrose’s hand over his chest and said in a low voice, "Here," he said softly. Eventually, he stopped ssing around. "He’s going nowhere."

"We’re just switching places for a mont, but don’t worry, he’s still here."

Primrose stared at him, her eyes searching every corner of his face. She wanted to be sure that this was still her husband, not so imposter, not so creature pretending to be the man she loved.

"What do you an by switching places?" she asked, her voice soft but firm. "Who are you?"

He smiled, more naturally this ti. "Can you guess?"

She went quiet, thinking hard. Then, slowly, she whispered, "His wolf?"

"That’s right!" he grinned. "How did I end up with such a clever mate?" He reached out and ruffled her hair with one hand, not too rough, but not as gentle as Edmund usually did.

"Since I live inside his mind," he continued, "I can take over his body from ti to ti. Honestly, you could say I’m the better version of him."

Primrose pulled away from his hand imdiately, a scowl forming on her face. "How dare you say that," she snapped. "My husband is already perfect."

He rolled his eyes like a bratty child. "That’s not what your actions said in the past."

Primrose froze.

The way he spoke, the way he looked at her felt like he knew her past well enough, like he had been there.

"No way ..." Primrose whispered, staring at him in disbelief. "Don’t tell ... you were from my past life too?"

The man—no, the wolf—tilted his head slightly, an unreadable expression flickering across his face. Then, slowly, he replied, "You really are my mate."

He pinched her cheeks, not gently at all, like he couldn’t handle how cute she was. "You figured it out that fast. I’m impressed."

Primrose swatted his hand away, but didn’t say anything about how weirdly affectionate he was being.

"So it’s true?" she whispered, her throat tightening. "You were there ... back then? In my first life?"

"I was," he said without hesitation. "But the current Edmund doesn’t know."