After a long, exhausting journey, the carriage finally came to a halt.
"Are we…already in the Capital?" Luren asked, his voice trembling with both hope and unease.
Before anyone could answer, Fiona suddenly leaned in and sprayed something directly into Luren's face.
Luren coughed, eyes wide with confusion. "W–what are you doing, Fiona?!" he snapped, panic rising in his chest.
Fiona's lips curled into a wicked smirk. "Sweet dreams… slut," she whispered coldly.
Luren's head spun, his body growing weaker with every breath until darkness swallowed
his consciousness. Desmond quickly caught him before he could fall, gently resting Luren's limp body on his thigh, a disturbingly calm smile spreading across his face.
"My brother will be thrilled when he sees this," Hajim said, his grin twisted with
malicious delight.
"Where are they going?" Mara muttered, her brows knitting as the carriage she had been
tracking suddenly veered away from the Capital. Hours later, she found herself in the Southern lands of Seravelle, the territory of Marquis Cedric.
Hidden in the thick shadows of the trees, Mara kept her presence concealed, watching with sharp, calculating eyes. At the riverbank, she spotted a group of supposed
merchants waiting on the deck of a boat. But her instincts screamed otherwise.
Her breath hitched as her gaze landed on the boat's hull—painted in bold colors was the
unmistakable flag of Velgarith.
"Velgarith…" she hissed under her breath, her grip tightening around the reins until her
knuckles turned white.
Then, the carriage door swung open. Desmond appeared, carrying an unconscious Luren like a prize. Mara's eyes widened in disbelief.
"Duchess?!" she gasped, rage bubbling in her chest. She dug her nails into her palms as Fiona followed them onto the boat, a smug smile curling on her lips.
"That snake…" Mara's thoughts seethed with venom. That traitorous bitch—I'll carve
that smile off her face myself.
Without wasting a second, Mara snatched a parchment, her hand trembling with fury as
she scribbled a desperate message. She tied it to the leg of her faithful fairy bird.
"Deliver this to His Grace," she whispered fiercely, her voice low but burning with
urgency. "Fly faster than the wind, little one… I'm counting on you."
With a flap of wings, the fairy bird soared into the stormy sky, leaving Mara glaring at the boat with murderous intent.
Mara's breathing quickened as the boat's anchor was raised. She clenched her fists,
her nails biting into her palms, every fiber of her body screaming to charge in and drag Luren out herself. But reason cut through her fury, there were too many of them. Soldiers disguised as merchants, Desmond, Fiona… she wouldn't last a heartbeat in a direct fight.
Grinding her teeth, Mara slid down from her horse and crept along the riverbank, moving
like a shadow. She timed each step with the splash of the water and the shouts of the soldiers loading cargo.
When no eyes were on her, she leapt onto the ship's lower deck, her boots barely making a sound. Heart pounding, she searched frantically until she found a half-empty wooden container shoved near the cargo hold. Without hesitation, she pried it
open just enough to slip inside, curling her body tight.
The smell of spices and damp wood filled her nose as she pressed herself into the
darkness. From the small cracks of the container, she could see boots stomping
past and hear the men laughing, clueless to the predator now in their midst.
Her jaw tightened. Cowards… traitors… she thought, trembling with rage. You won't touch him. I'll make sure of it… even if I have to slit every throat on this damned ship
As the vessel slowly drifted away from the shore, Mara silently vowed, she would wait,
watch, and when the time came, strike like a viper.
Desmond sat at the side of the bed, gently caressing Luren's face. His fingers trailed
slowly down to Luren's chin, then brushed across his soft lips.
"Are you interested in him too?" she asked, casting a glance toward Fiona, who stood
silently at the doorway.
"Who would refuse a beauty like this?" Desmond murmured, his voice thick with desire as his eyes lingered on Luren's peaceful face, dark with lust.
Fiona's stomach twisted in disgust. "I don't understand why all of you are obsessed
with a man," she muttered, shaking her head in disbelief.
Hajim appeared behind her with a mocking smirk. "That's because you've never felt how
tight a man's ass can be, especially an omega's," he said crudely. "If you want
him, you better act fast. Once my brother lays eyes on him, he won't let anyone
else touch him again."
Desmond's expression turned cold. He clenched his jaw, possessiveness burning in his chest. He wanted Luren for himself. The thought of King Herald claiming him made his blood boil.
"Are you really going to take a pregnant man?" Fiona asked, shocked. She may
hate Luren, but taking him in that condition felt deeply wrong. His belly was bigger than most, perhaps because he was carrying twins. One wrong move and it might burst.
"Well, if Desmond doesn't do it, my brother might," Hajim said with a chuckle. "You know
how crazy he is."
They both exited the cabin, leaving Desmond behind.
Desmond sat beside the sleeping Luren, his eyes drifting from his peaceful face to his
swollen belly.
If King Herald saw him… the babies wouldn't stand a chance. That man was ruthless, he
wouldn't hesitate to kill the baby, not even blink.
Luren's body tensed as he felt a warm hand trace down his cheek to his neck. It was
Desmond.
He had awakened moments earlier and heard everything, but he kept his eyes closed, pretending to sleep.
Inside, fear twisted in his gut. His heart beat fast under Desmond's touch, but he
dared not move.