CHAPTER 164: HOW DARE SHE?!

Sorayah gasped, her eyes widening the moment they met his.

Dimitri’s face had been the subject of countless rumors.....said to be brutal, unseeable, horribly disfigured. But the face staring back at her now was anything but monstrous.

It was flawless, yet burdened. Beautiful, yet tragic.

His skin was smooth and unblemished. Tiny scars, faint but distinct, formed the delicate shapes of stars across his left temple, trailing down to the curve of his cheek. They didn’t mar his appearance; if anything, they seemed to enhance it. His jawline was sharp and sculpted, commanding attention even in stillness.

His emerald eyes....eyes Sorayah could never quite read glowed now with a mix of warmth and sorrow, hiding an ache too deep to voice. It wasn’t the look of a fearsome Alpha emperor . No...It was the look of a lost boy, desperate for someone to simply hold him, to stay beside him, to offer quiet love instead of revenge.

He looked pitiful, fierce, and breathtakingly handsome all at once. His rosy lips parted slightly, twitching as if he had words to say but no strength to utter them...fearful that any word might hurt the woman he loved.

"Y-yo... your face..." Sorayah stammered, her voice breaking as her gaze remained fixed on him, her body trembling. "I-it..."

"Yes," Dimitri replied quietly, heaving a deep sigh. "It’s not covered in terrifying scars like the rumors said."

He looked away for a moment, exhaling again as his voice lowered into something darker. "But it’s still dangerous. These stars...these tiny marks on my face are the reason millions are dead. They’re the reason men became widowers, women became widows, and children... orphans. They’re the reason for bloodshed and sorrow. So even if I don’t look like a monster..." he paused, then added with a hint of self-loathing, "I still am one."

Sorayah’s lips parted, trembling. "H-how come I’m not affected?" she asked in disbelief. "I... I thought I would die the moment I saw your face."

"That’s because you’re born with dragon power," Dimitri replied softly, meeting her gaze once again. "You’re the crown princess of your kingdom, Sorayah. Your bloodline shields you. But if anyone else enters this room and looks at me like this..."

His voice fell flat. "They’ll turn into a pile of blood and flesh."

Sorayah swallowed hard. The fear that seized her chest was written plainly across her face.

And then, as if to test the truth of his words...or to drive it home, Dimitri called out...

"Come in."

The door creaked open. A royal guard stepped in, his footsteps confident... until his eyes met Dimitri’s unveiled face.

In an instant, he exploded.

No sound. No scream. Just a horrifying burst of blood, flesh, and bone....scattering across the chamber like a silent bomb. The room was splattered red. And then, silence.

Sorayah collapsed to the ground, shrieking as her vision blurred. Her heart pounded wildly, her throat tightening in panic. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she tried to push the image out of her mind, but the horror was carved into her memory.

She doubled over, her stomach twisting violently. Vomit surged up her throat, and her limbs trembled uncontrollably.

"It’s okay," Dimitri said quickly, kneeling beside her and turning his back to the mutilated remains behind them, shielding her from the sight. "It’s okay, Sorayah. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to frighten you. I just... I only wanted you to know the truth. But this... This was a bad idea."

He gently patted her back as she retched, whispering words of comfort, though guilt weighed heavy on his voice.

"I’m sorry. I’m so sorry..."

But before he could say another word, Sorayah slumped forward, unconscious, cradled in his arms.

*****

Meanwhile, in Melissa’s chamber...

The room echoed with the sound of furniture crashing, glass shattering, and rage-filled screams.

Melissa stood in the center, her golden gown torn at the hem, her hands trembling as she hurled another priceless vase against the wall. Her entire body vibrated with fury, her face flushed so red with anger it could sear food like a blazing hotplate.

"HOW DARE SHE!" Melissa screamed, grabbing a candleholder and slamming it to the floor. "That lowborn, human wench dares to give command before me?"

"Y...Your Highness... please calm down..." her new personal maid whimpered, kneeling on the floor, her hands clasped together in fear.

But Melissa wasn’t having it. She strode forward, grabbed the maid by the collar, and yanked her up with terrifying strength.

"Calm down?" Melissa hissed, her teeth clenched, her breath hot against the girl’s face. "Did you just tell me to calm down?!"

"Y...Your Highness, please!" the maid cried out, eyes wide with terror. "W...we can deal with that woman! That... That Sorayah! She’s nothing compared to you!"

Melissa’s eyes blazed. For a second, she looked ready to strike. But instead, she released the maid with a violent shove and let out a scream of pure rage.

"How dare that bitch?!" Melissa shrieked, pacing furiously across the marble floor, her hands trembling with rage. "How dare she act all mighty before me?! How dare she give orders like she owns the palace and even take what rightfully belongs to me?!"

Her voice cracked, trembling not just with fury, but also with desperation.

"Your Highness... please," her maid whispered cautiously. "You need to calm down or... or people might begin to suspect that your pregnancy isn’t real..."

The moment the words left her mouth, Melissa spun around, grabbing the maid by the collar with a grip so tight it nearly cut off the girl’s air.

"Who said my pregnancy isn’t real, Nyla?!" Melissa hissed, her voice lowered to a dangerous whisper, yet her eyes blazed with murderous intensity. "Don’t you ever say anything like that again...ever or you’ll be dead before your next breath."

Nyla’s eyes widened in fear, choking slightly beneath her mistress’s iron grip. "Y...yes, Your Highness," she stammered.

Melissa held her for another tense second before finally releasing her. Nyla stumbled back, gasping softly.

"My pregnancy is very real," Melissa continued coldly, placing a possessive hand over her fake protuding stomach. "I will give birth to a royal prince. I’ll reclaim my position, take back my influence, and become the true mother of the next ruler. This child... is my key to power."

"Yes, Your Highness," Nyla said again, trying to steady her voice. "Your pregnancy is three months along now. But once we reach the seventh month... I’ll have to leave the palace and keep my eyes on a pregnant woman far from this pack. A woman who will deliver a healthy baby boy....the one who’ll be presented as Your Highness’ royal child."

"Exactly," Melissa said with a pleased smirk. "We’ll do just that."

She turned slightly, stroking her abdomen with a slow, careful motion, as if trying to summon the child into existence with her will alone.

"My baby boy must arrive into this world in good health. He’s the only way I can reclaim everything that whore took from me. I’ve been cut off from my family...isolated like some exiled empress without power. And all because of Sorayah." Her voice dropped, venomous. "But let her enjoy her little victory for now. The moment I give birth... she’ll be punished."

Melissa’s eyes gleamed with the promise of vengeance.

"And Nyla... keep your eyes on the other three concubines. They’ll likely try to eliminate Sorayah on their own, but we can’t allow that just yet so you have to protect Sorayah."

"Protect her?" Nyla asked, blinking in confusion. Her brows furrowed as she struggled to understand. "You... want us to protect Sorayah?"

"Yes," Melissa said firmly, her tone clipped but calculated. "I have to keep that bitch alive. If the other concubines harm her, it’ll be an easy death and that’s not what I want. I want her to feel true pain, to walk through fire, to hate herself for ever stepping into this imperial harem."

She let out a bitter laugh and stared at the ceiling as if picturing it.

"She’ll kneel before me, begging for her life. She’ll suffer until even death will feel like a mercy. When I’m through with her, she’ll curse the day she ever crossed paths with me. That woman and I... we need to have a real fight. One that will shake this empire to its core."

"I understand, Your Highness," Nyla said, bowing deeply.

Melissa began pacing again, her gold-embroidered gown sweeping against the floor. Nyla hesitated before speaking again.

"What about His Highness, Prince Draven?" she asked carefully. "He’s been sending letter after letter, begging for an audience since he was placed in the royal office. He wants to see you, Your Highness."

Melissa paused mid-step, then turned around slowly with a smirk playing at the corner of her lips.

"That fool," she sneered. "He really thinks being posted to the royal office is a reward after nearly committing treason? He should know better. He’s being watched. Every move he makes, every word he speaks....it’s all being recorded. The moment he slips up, even slightly, it’ll be used to destroy him."

She heaved a deep, dramatic sigh and sat down on her golden, feather-cushioned chair.

"Now that he’s in the lion’s den, he must act in shadows....secretly, wisely, and quietly. If he still has a brain in that pretty head of his, he’ll play the long game. As for me..." She gently caressed her stomach, her voice lowering to a purr. "I’m not ready to meet him yet. Not until I decide the terms. When the time comes, I’ll seek him out myself. Not a second earlier."