CHAPTER 68: ANGRY SLAPS

There was only one woman Aria knew who would have the sheer effrontery to burst into her room as if it were her own personal chamber.

Even if she hadn’t seen the face, the light, mocking laughter that followed—high-pitched and cruel—was enough to confirm Aria’s suspicions. And when the door was slammed shut without an ounce of restraint, the sharp echo reverberating off the stone walls, it left no doubt.

Lady Vivian.

The pain radiating from Aria’s ankle was unbearable. It throbbed with a constant, fiery pulse—like someone had seared the joint with a branding iron and continued slicing through it with each breath she took. It wasn’t a sharp stab anymore—it was a deep, molten agony that pulsed rhythmically, growing worse with every passing second.

She lay sprawled on the cold floor, her hair damp with sweat and plastered to her cheeks, the heavy coat still draped over her shoulders offering little comfort. Her lips parted with the effort of breathing through the pain, her teeth clenched so tightly her jaw trembled. It was the kind of suffering that hollowed a person out from the inside.

Aria’s gaze lifted from the stone floor, her face slick with sweat and flushed with rage, and her bloodshot eyes locked onto Vivian with pure hatred.

"What the hell do you want?" she barked out hoarsely, her voice raw, sharp, and defiant despite her condition. She wanted her gone—gone with the same arrogance with which she had entered.

But her words had barely left her mouth before a sharp, stinging slap cracked across her cheek. The sound echoed violently in the room, snapping Aria’s head to the side and causing a fresh tear to spring to her eye as her cheek ignited with heat.

Still, it was more insult than injury. The pain didn’t compare to the torment in her leg—it was a drop of water in a sea of fire.

"Oh, how the proud has fallen," Lady Vivian sighed dramatically, her lips curling into a gloating smile that she made no attempt to hide. She gazed down at Aria, whose eyes shimmered with unfallen tears, taking in the spectacle with open delight.

"The king ordered it, didn’t he?" Vivian asked, already knowing the answer. Her voice was laced with poisonous glee. "He had to have! I wonder what you did to piss him off."

She chuckled to herself as her smile widened, practically glowing with schadenfreude. She looked like a woman in celebration, basking in someone else’s ruin.

"Or..." she tilted her head mockingly, her tone feigning pity, "...maybe you did nothing. Maybe he was just tired of you." Her words slithered through the air, cruel and biting.

Aria, still breathing heavily, struggled to push herself upright. Her arms trembled beneath her, her palms slick with sweat as she braced herself. She forced her body up until she was sitting on the floor, legs twisted awkwardly beneath her, every movement sending a jolt of pain up her spine. Her fingers clenched into tight fists at her sides, her voice shaking with fury as she gritted out her next words.

"Get out!" she screamed, her voice cracking under the pressure, raw with emotion. "Leave or—"

Another slap silenced her.

This one was harsher than the last, the sound sharper, the sting more real. Her face jerked again, and for a moment, her vision blurred. The smile on Vivian’s face disappeared, replaced by something sharper, colder.

"Are you stupid?" Vivian hissed, her voice filled with disdain.

Aria, stunned, blinked up at her in shock, her chest rising and falling rapidly. If she’d been able to stand, if her head wasn’t pounding with pain and her body wasn’t anchored by a broken ankle and cold iron, she might have struck back.

"Are you stupid?" Lady Vivian repeated, barking the words with venom. "You’re chained to the wall and your leg is broken! King Zyren clearly doesn’t want you anymore!"

She stepped closer, her voice rising in a sneer. "Without him caring about you, you’re nothing—just an abandoned slave."

Her eyes glinted maliciously, voice low and thick with threat. "Even a guard could have you, and Zyren wouldn’t bat an eye."

Aria’s heart slammed painfully in her chest. She opened her mouth to speak, but Vivian cut her off, her tone sharpening.

"Once that happens, you’ll wish you were dead."

Vivian’s threat wasn’t a dramatic flourish. It was a promise, dripping with malice and jealousy. Her mouth twisted in a grimace as she stepped back, then straightened with pride.

"I told you to stay away from him," she said coldly. "But you didn’t listen. He toys with humans. But I

—a true-blood vampire—will forever be his mate."

She lifted her chin haughtily, standing with her hands on her hips as if she were already queen. "He will love me, and we will be—"

But this time, Aria didn’t let her finish.

Her wet, furious eyes rose to meet Vivian’s with pure loathing.

"Do you ever shut up?" she hissed. "Not only are you dumb, but you’re also delusional."

She knew the words would provoke her. Knew that Vivian was close to snapping. And maybe that was exactly what Aria wanted. Zyren had said it himself—he wouldn’t touch her again if she was close to death. So, she’d push it. She’ll push Vivian to hit her again and again.

Vivian’s face twisted into a mask of pure rage. Her red eyes blazed like coals, fury overtaking her rational mind as she stormed forward, her hand already rising to strike again.

"How desperate must you be," Aria continued, her voice rising, "to cling to a man who won’t even look at you—?"

Vivian raised her hand mid-step, her face darkened with hatred—and then both women froze.

A knock.

This time it was sharp and loud, filled with impatient authority. It rang out across the room like a blade slicing through the tension.

Vivian flinched, her eyes narrowing with confusion.

Aria blinked, stunned. Who would knock?

Her maid wouldn’t. Zyren certainly never had.

Neither of them moved.

Vivian turned back toward Aria, hand still trembling with the urge to hit her. "I’ll blame your bruises on a guard," she muttered coldly, composing herself, already planning the excuse. "He’s under my pay."

But before she could speak again, the door creaked open.

Bovan stepped in, his expression grim. His eyes swept the room quickly, taking everything in—Aria chained to the wall, bruises on her face, her leg twisted unnaturally. Lady Vivian, standing dangerously close, clearly mid-rage.

He sighed audibly, then bowed to Vivian.

"Get out!" she snapped immediately, her voice venomous. "When I’m done, I’ll let you in!"

But Bovan didn’t move. He kept his head bowed and opened his mouth to speak.

"His lordship, the king, ordered that I heal her leg," he said tightly, his voice strained with resentment. His jaw clenched. He didn’t mention the rest of the order—but it rang in his mind nonetheless.

"If there are any bruises on her... any pain left... I’ll skin you alive."

Now he stood here, staring at the bruises darkening Aria’s cheeks.

"He also said to make sure there is nothing else wrong with her."

Lady Vivian stiffened. Her face twisted in silent protest. But slowly, she began to back away. Fury churned in her eyes as she realized what Bovan’s presence truly meant.

Zyren still cared.

With a furious pivot, she turned to storm out. But before she could take more than a few steps, Aria’s voice rang out, quiet and mocking.

"...Poor Lady Vivian," Aria murmured, her words trembling with pain and venom. "Her lover is in love with another."

Vivian stopped.

Bovan hissed under his breath and immediately stepped in front of Aria, blocking Vivian’s path with a tense stance. He knew—if Vivian lost control again and harmed Aria—Zyren would have his head first.

And hers next.