Chapter Eleven: Dungeons (II)
1062 Words
Xoraxys
Jade had pride. The kind of pride that made her think she was in control. And tonight, that pride was supposed to work in my favor. There was no way she would actually—
"Please release him," she said, voice soft but firm, cutting through the air like a blade. She knelt at my feet, head bowed, her hair spilling like dark silk around her shoulders.
She was begging.
For him?
My stomach twisted. A slow, creeping burn spread through my chest. Rage. Pure and unfiltered. The kind I hadn’t felt since Lilith took our child from me.
The kind I kept buried, deep down, under layers of control and civility. The kind that, if unleashed, could leave nothing but corpses in its wake.
I turned to leave before I gave into it. Before I did something I couldn’t take back.
Then the shadow guard opened his mouth.
"Jealousy isn't a nice color on you, Your Majesty."
His voice was casual, like he wasn’t standing in front of a predator barely holding back its bite. His words echoed in the quiet dungeon, bouncing off the polished stone walls and gilded columns.
I turned back slowly.
Jade hadn’t moved. Still on her knees. Still trembling. Her fists clenched so tightly her knuckles had gone white. Her bare toes curled against the cold marble.
They were making me look like the villain.
Like I was the monster in this story.
When I was clearly not.
I looked at Lyrien, standing tall, unafraid, his dark hair catching the light. Smug bastard. He knew I wouldn’t kill him. Not because I couldn’t—but because I wouldn’t. Because of her.
Because of this hold she had on me.
But I don’t make empty threats.
He’d live—for now. Long enough for Jade to see who he really was. Long enough for that pitiful attachment to dissolve. And when it did, I’d take my time with him.
I would bleed him slow.
Call me sadist but the thought brought a small, cruel smile to my lips.
I looked at Jade again. Her fingers were still fidgeting, her body still tense. She hadn’t lifted her head.
“Get up, Jade,” I said. “You’re a queen. If anyone saw you like this, it’d reflect badly on me.”
She didn’t move.
Then, slowly, she lifted her head.
Her eyes—those brilliant emeralds—blazed with hate. With defiance. With heartbreak.
It hurt.
More than I cared to admit.
Why?! Why was she doing this for him?!
“Get up,” I repeated, voice low and sharp. “You know I don’t like repeating myself.”
She stood. Her eyes didn’t meet mine. Her fists were still clenched at her sides. Her breaths came shallow, chest rising and falling in a tight rhythm. And she was barefoot—again. Always forgetting to protect herself. She’d catch a cold if she kept this up.
I closed the distance between us and lifted her into my arms.
She gasped, her hands instinctively grabbing at my shoulders. “Put me down, Xoraxys!”
I looked down at her scowl, her flushed cheeks, her narrowed eyes. Always beautiful when she was angry.
So f*****g adorable.
I turned to Lyrien one last time. His face was unreadable, but I saw it—the flicker of something sharp in his eyes.
Jealousy.
“You were right, Lyrien,” I said. “Jealousy isn’t a nice color on me.”
I smirked. “But it suits you damn well.”
---
Jade
There were many things I wanted to do to Xoraxys. Stake him. Burn him. Maybe poison his wine. Or strangle him with those silk sashes he loves so much.
Maybe I would castrate him?
Actually, no. That would be a crime against nature.
But the last thing I wanted was to share a bed with him. Not after what he did. Not after chaining Lyrien up like some wild dog. Not after throwing around that possessive, twisted version of love like it justified everything.
Yet here I was.
Wrapped in his arms, my cheek pressed to his chest. The steady thump of his heartbeat beneath my ear made me sick.
His scent—leather, smoke, and something darker—wrapped around me. I tried to ignore the way it made my stomach twist.
He was awake. I could feel it in the way his thumb traced idle circles on my lower back. I squirmed, trying to slip from his hold.
“Stop moving, Jade,” he muttered. His voice was rough, low, filled with exhaustion. “I’m trying to sleep.”
Good. So was I. Tired of him. Tired of this room, these games, these chains.
I stilled, not because I wanted to, but because I knew I wouldn’t win this battle. Not yet.
He shifted slightly, his breath brushing against my forehead. “You’re angry.”
Well duh.
I didn’t answer. My silence was answer enough.
“You still smell like lilacs,” he said softly.
“Don’t,” I snapped.
“Don’t what?”
“Don’t act like you care.”
He went quiet. The silence stretched. It filled every corner of the room like a fog.
“I do care,” he finally said.
I let out a bitter laugh. “Yeah. You care so much you almost crushed Lyrien’s ribs. You care so much you humiliated me in front of everyone.”
“He touched what’s mine.”
I pulled back just enough to look him in the eyes. “I am not a thing, Xoraxys.”
His jaw clenched. “You’re not a thing.” His voice dropped. “You’re everything, my life, my soul, my obsession. And I will be damned if someone else has you.”
And that? That hurt the most.
Because part of me wanted to believe him. Part of me wanted to forgive him, to go back to the way things were. To pretend he wasn’t the storm always waiting to destroy me.
But I couldn’t afford to fall into that lie again.
Never again.
“Go to sleep,” I whispered.
He didn’t answer.
He just pulled me closer, like he knew that tomorrow, I’d try to walk away again.
And maybe—just maybe—he knew I wouldn’t be able to.
Because... I still loved him?
No.
- Writer
