Chapter Ten: Dungeons (I)
1165 Words
Jade
The door creaked open, and I didn’t need to look up to know who it was. He still had the audacity to come to my room.
I glanced up from my book, my eyes locking onto his as he stepped inside.
“What are you doing here?” I didn’t bother hiding the bitterness in my voice. Just seeing him pissed me off.
He said nothing. Instead, with a snap of his fingers, his regal attire vanished, replaced by his nightclothes. My grip on the book tightened as he climbed into my bed, making himself comfortable beside me.
I snapped the book shut and swung my legs off the mattress, ready to storm out.
“Don’t leave, Jade.”
His voice was quiet—almost gentle. I turned, and for once, there was no arrogance in his crimson eyes. No challenge. Just something raw. Unreadable.
“Stay with me.”
What was he playing at?
I narrowed my eyes. With Xoraxys, there was always a game. Yet, when I searched his face, I found no malice. Just quiet longing.
He raised a hand toward me, an unspoken invitation. And for one foolish moment, I hesitated.
I missed his warmth. I missed the way his touch could set my skin ablaze. I missed the nights when he wasn’t my captor, my tormentor—but my husband.
My fingers twitched, almost reaching for his—until the memories hit me like a blade to the ribs.
He had lied to me.
Manipulated me.
Betrayed me.
I scowled. Screw him.
“I’ll sleep on the couch.”
I grabbed a pillow and cast one last glance at him. For a fleeting second, I swore I saw something vulnerable in his expression. But in the next breath, it was gone, replaced with cold indifference.
He turned away from me, settling on his side. I made my way to the couch, lying flat on my back and staring at the ceiling.
Our marriage was crumbling.
And maybe it was never whole to begin with.
I turned my head slightly, my gaze falling on his sleeping form. Even without my memories fully intact, I knew the truth.
The man I had loved back then… it wasn’t him.
It was Lyrien.
And now, because of me, Lyrien was rotting in a dungeon. Because I had dared to love him once. Because Xoraxys wanted to punish me.
I needed to see him.
I needed to know he was still alive.
Silently, I slipped off the couch, moving cautiously toward the door. The last thing I needed was to wake the devil in my bed.
I grabbed a small medical kit from my closet—a gift from him, ironically. Casting one last glance at Xoraxys, I prayed to the gods that he wouldn’t wake.
Then, I vanished into the night.
---
The palace was eerily silent at this hour, the torches casting flickering shadows against the stone walls. The guards patrolled lazily, their presence barely noticeable.
I moved swiftly, keeping to the darkness, my heart pounding as I reached the dungeons.
A bribe was all it took to slip past the guard.
I pressed a hand against the cold iron and pushed the door open.
The air inside was thick with damp stone and blood.
And there he was.
Lyrien.
He sat against the far wall, wrists raw from the chains, his skin bruised and smeared with dried blood. But his storm-gray eyes still burned.
He wasn’t broken.
Not yet.
I exhaled softly. “Lyrien.”
His head lifted, and for a moment, he just looked at me.
Then—a slow, pained smirk. “Your Majesty,” he murmured, voice hoarse. “To what do I owe the honor?”
I rolled my eyes. “I won’t have you dying on me.”
I knelt beside him, setting down the medical kit. Bandages. Healing salve. It wasn’t much, but it would do.
Lyrien watched carefully as I reached for his arm, but before I could touch him, he spoke.
“You shouldn’t be here.”
I froze.
It wasn’t a warning. It was a statement.
And something in his tone sent a sharp chill down my spine.
I forced a small, bitter smile. “Why? Afraid I’ll get caught?”
Lyrien didn’t smile back.
I ignored the unease creeping up my spine and focused on his wounds, carefully dabbing at the dried blood, wrapping his wrist in fresh bandages.
He let out a soft chuckle. “Last time you patched me up, you did a terrible job.”
I snorted. “That’s because you broke into my house bleeding all over my couch.”
Lyrien shook his head. “And you attacked me with a pillow.”
I smirked. “You deserved it.”
The silence that followed was lighter. Nostalgic, even. For a moment, I almost forgot where we were.
Almost.
Then—the air shifted.
The torches flickered.
And a slow, familiar voice filled the space behind me.
“Well.”
My blood ran cold.
“Isn’t this sweet?”
---
Xoraxys
How adorable.
Jade, kneeling beside him, her delicate hands tending to his wounds like some tragic heroine in a mortal love story.
She had disobeyed me.
She had snuck out of my bed, out of my reach, just to steal this moment with him.
I had expected her to resist. To fight me.
But this?
She was still choosing him.
And that…
That would not stand.
I stepped forward, each movement slow, deliberate. I wanted her to feel it—the exact moment she realized her mistake.
Lyrien was already watching me, silver eyes sharp despite his injuries. He knew she wouldn’t be walking out of here unchanged.
He had tried to warn her.
Too late.
Jade stiffened but didn’t turn. Adorable. She thought ignoring me would lessen the consequences.
She exhaled slowly, steadying herself. “Lyrien,” she said quietly, “I think our time is up.”
Deflecting. Trying to take control.
I almost laughed.
Instead, I took another step forward. The sound of my boots against stone was the only noise in the suffocating silence.
“You should have stayed on your couch, little flame.”
She flinched.
Good.
Slowly, she turned, her green eyes burning with defiance. But beneath it—I saw it.
Hesitation.
Fear.
She was finally starting to understand.
My gaze flicked to the bandages, to the salve smeared across her fingertips.
“You used my gifts on him?” I murmured, tilting my head.
She swallowed. “He needed it.”
My lips curled into a slow, mocking smile. “And what about what I need, Jade?”
Her breath caught.
She knew.
I reached out, brushing my fingers along her jaw. She trembled.
I leaned in, my voice barely above a whisper.
“You want to save him?”
A pause. A heartbeat.
“Then beg.”
And just like that—
The fire in her eyes blazed.
- Writer
