I Left The Wolf King Who Loved Me For The Dragon King Chapter 06

I Left The Wolf King Who Loved Me For The Dragon King Chapter 06

Both of them snapped their heads in my direction. A violent flicker of surprise and tightly suppressed panic crossed Ulvarr’s face.

Forcing every ounce of disgust down into the depths of my stomach, I rearranged my features into a mask of pure, desperate affection. I sprinted forward and threw my arms around his sleeve, clinging to him.

“Ulvarr, I missed you so much,” I said, my voice sweet enough to make me gag. “I’ve been craving that venison stew you always make. Let’s go buy the ingredients.”

Ulvarr imperceptibly let out a long breath, a trace of helpless indulgence coloring his tone. “Of course, my sweet. I’ll head out to the market right now. Is there anything else your heart desires?”

The raw display of tenderness hit Bryony like a physical blow. Her cheeks flushed an angry, mottled crimson, and she spun on her heel, storming away in a fit of rage.

The moment she vanished from the corridor, my objective complete, I dropped my arm and coldly stepped away from him.

Then, the massive iron chandelier directly above the upper landing gave way.

It happened in a fraction of a second. Years of navigating the constant perils of this house had trained my instincts to react instantly; I threw my hands over my skull and lunged toward the open clearing.

But I never anticipated the betrayal.

Ulvarr’s hand slammed into my shoulder, ruthlessly shoving me back into the danger zone. In the exact same motion, he lunged forward, sweeping Bryony tightly into his arms and pulling her clear of the falling shadow.

The crushing weight of the iron fixture tore through me. The impact hurled me down the steep stone staircase, shattered glass shards slicing deep, jagged tracks across every inch of my skin.

A white-hot wave of agony rolled over me, pushing me to the brink of blacking out.

Before my vision completely dissolved into darkness, I looked up through the dust and saw them. Ulvarr and Bryony, holding each other in a fierce, breathless embrace.

When clarity finally returned, I was flat on my back in a bed, the sharp, sterile sting of antiseptic filling my senses.

I ground my teeth together, a violent, suffocating fury boiling in my chest with nowhere to go. Before I could even force my eyelids open, the soft, pathetic whimpering of Bryony’s voice drifted over from the bedside.

“You still love me, Ulvarr… I know you do. You wouldn’t have thrown yourself under that iron to save me if you didn’t.”

She sniffled, her voice dropping into a desperate plea. “Take me away from here. Let’s run tonight, before the wedding. Father will be forced to ship my sister off to the Dragon King to pacify his wrath anyway. We can return once the ashes settle.”

Before he could offer her his hollow promises, I forced my broken body to move, gasping as I dragged myself awake.

Hearing the shifting sheets, Ulvarr spun around instantly, his expression morphing into a vivid display of frantic worry. “Sweetheart! Oh, thank the Mother. How do you feel?”

The first backhand caught him square across the jaw.

Ulvarr cupped his cheek, his dark eyes widening in utter shock, staring at me as if he couldn’t comprehend what had just transpired. “Aylin…? Are you experiencing a delusion from the pain?” he stammered, hesitant.

The second strike connected with twice the force, snapping his head violently to the side.

“You are my betrothed,” I hissed, the words dripping with pure venom. “Yet the moment the ceiling caves in, you discard me like refuse to shield another woman in your arms?”

“Aylin, let me explain—”

The third slap left a violent red mark across his face, and a murderous, predatory gleam flared in his obsidian eyes. Since the day he assumed the crown of the Greyfang pack, no living soul had dared to touch him with such disrespect.

Bryony suddenly threw her body between us, shielding him. “Strike me instead, you soulless creature!” she wailed, her voice thick with self-righteous fury. “You dare hide behind the Selwyn name to abuse others? This house is disgraced by your very existence, you pathetic, wolf-less stray—”

Crack.

Bryony let out a piercing shriek as the fourth slap landed, throwing her sideways into Ulvarr’s chest as she clutched her swelling cheek. She stared up at me in absolute, unvarnished disbelief.

“What?” I spat, a harsh, mocking sneer curving my lips. “Is this the first time a wolf-less hybrid has broken your skin?”

Ulvarr’s jaw set into a rigid line, his teeth grinding together so hard the bone clicked. “It was my fault, Aylin,” he ground out, forcing his voice into a tight, strained compliance.

“The dust… the chaos… you and Bryony look so remarkably similar in the dark. I mistook her for you. I swear on my life it will never happen again.”

Without waiting for a response, he scooped Bryony up and swept out of the chamber. Her theatrical sobs echoed down the corridor, as though she were the one currently leaking blood onto the mattress from a hundred glass punctures.

Exhausted, I slumped back against the pillows, tearing away the stained linens to re-bandage the weeping gashes myself.

Thirty minutes later, the heavy oak doors were violently kicked off their hinges.

A squad of heavily armored brutes clad in midnight leather stormed the room. The vanguard leader stepped forward, uncoiling a heavy, silver-tipped whip from his belt, his eyes fixed on me with arctic indifference.

“By order of the Alpha King,” he announced coldly. “You have grievously harmed the woman who holds his heart. You are sentenced to ninety-nine lashes.”

“The woman who holds his heart…” The sheer, grotesque irony of the words made my throat tighten. So this was how the King protected what belonged to him.

I dragged myself to my feet, roaring through the pain, “Bring your King to me! Let him look me in the eye and say it! Let him tell me exactly who his heart belongs to!”

Before the words could fully leave my mouth, a guard lunged forward, shoving me violently to the floor. A microsecond later, the heavy leather whistled through the air and connected with my back with a dull, heavy crack.

My flesh erupted in white-hot flame, the newly bound wounds tearing open as blood immediately soaked through my tunic.

“One!” the enforcer barked.

I clamped my jaw shut, my fingers digging into the floorboards as I bellowed into the dust, “Bring him to me!”

Crack.

The leader let out a mocking grunt. “A wolf-less mongrel thinks she has the right to summon the King?”

The sheer force of the agony forced a spray of copper fluid up my throat. “Let him say it to my face!” I choked out.

The third strike never fell.

The room plunged into a suffocating, dead silence.

A towering, majestic figure materialized in the ruined doorway. Though a heavy silver mask concealed his features, the crushing, apex Alpha aura radiating from his frame left no room for doubt. The mysterious King had arrived.

I forced my trembling neck up, staring through the haze. Even behind the silver mask, the scent of winter and crushed pine was unmistakable. Ulvarr.

When he spoke, his deep voice was a frozen arrow slicing straight through whatever remained of my heart. “You brought this upon yourself, Aylin. You struck Bryony. This is the price.”

I let out a raw, bloody laugh. “I gave her a single slap, and you return it with ninety-nine lashes?”

“She is my future Luna,” he replied, his voice dead, devoid of a single trace of the man who had sworn his life to me. “And you… you are nothing but a bastard hybrid.”

He turned his back on me. “Proceed.”

The silver mask vanished from my sight, and the guards closed the circle. The whip whistled through the air again and again, tearing my skin to ribbons. I bit into my lip until it bled, refusing to offer them a single sob, a single plea for mercy.

But I couldn’t stop the tears. They spilled over my lashes, hot and fast, mixing with the blood pooling beneath my cheek—the bitterest taste in the world.

Suddenly, a careless boot struck my discarded traveling satchel.

The small velvet pouch tore open, and my mother’s moonstone rolled onto the blood-stained stone.

The sight of it broke the final levy inside me. A ragged, weeping wail tore from my chest. “Mother—!”

When I was a child, I had spent ten thousand nights praying to the skies that she would wake up, that she would come back to save me. She never did. Then I prayed for a savior of my own, and Ulvarr had walked out of the woods, wrapping me in a beautifully woven lie.

Now, the final, brutal truth was carved into my flesh: since the day my mother died, there had never been anyone left in this world to love me. I had been so blind. So utterly, pathetically naive. The biggest fool in the world.

I lost count of the strikes. At some point, the agonizing rhythm stopped.

But it wasn’t out of mercy.

A massive, colossal shadow suddenly blotted out the midnight sky outside, plunging the entire chamber into pitch darkness.

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING TO HER?!”

The roaring bellow shattered the stone walls, and a torrential wave of blinding, suffocating dragon fire erupted through the windows, consuming the room in an instant.