Chapter 269: Cheating Lover

It didn’t help that she instantly recalled Clara’s words about Jared’s interest in her, something she had not previously believed in but could no longer continue to pretend was not there.His eyes had softened as he looked at her, almost like he was no longer a king but more of a man, as he continued talking.

"He killed your father and brother! Surely you have no intention of leaving the bond as it is. Moreover, breaking the bond will weaken him!" Jared told her, even though Aria was also aware of what he left unsaid.

’It would weaken me too, if not worse!’ she thought. The worst-case scenario would be for her to be completely stripped of all her powers—something she couldn’t afford to let happen.

"I’ll keep it in mind," she said simply from the bit of distance she maintained from him, even as his expression darkened. His eyes strayed to her neck and bare shoulders, visible in the red dress she wore even beneath the dark coat draped around her.

Jared took a step forward, speaking at the same time, a dark look in his eyes. "Just because you have a bond with him doesn’t mean you have to continue sleeping together," he told her, his voice laced with disapproval and something sharper beneath it.

But Aria couldn’t bring herself to care.

"Sex is—"

"That’s my business!" she cut him off before he could finish whatever he was about to say.

She didn’t trust Zyren in the slightest, but she trusted Jared even less. Moving to the side, she intended to walk away, but she had only taken a single step when she felt her arm being grabbed through the cloak she had on.

The hold was firm—strong enough to make her stop against her will. She turned around sharply, glaring fiercely at him, clearly annoyed by the way he acted. She tried to shake his hand off but found herself unable to.

"I hope you haven’t already been beguiled by Zyren into trusting him! That would be the worst thing you could do! If not, then why would you even sleep with him!" he bit out, his voice hard and accusing, making it painfully clear what he thought about her actions.

Aria settled a deep glare on his face, which she couldn’t deny was extremely handsome—made even more striking by the soft, furry ears on his head. His golden eyes only added to the charm, something she might have once admired if not for the fact that the man before her was an arrogant fool.

Glaring at him, she spat the words out coldly.

"Who I sleep with is none of your business, even if it’s a servant!" she snapped, jerking her arm back hard enough for him to let go, lest he break her arm if he continued holding on.

She had no intention of saying anything more after that, having already said all she wanted to say. Turning sharply, Aria walked out the door, her steps quick and her expression dark with anger.

Her mind burned with irritation as she made her way down the corridor, heading straight to her rooms with a severely annoyed expression on her face.

Desperately, she craved a way to gain an ability that would allow her to fight back—aware that she would have used it without hesitation.

***********

Rymora had been standing in front of the door, waiting for Aria to come out, when she suddenly heard a sound that made her jerk her head to the side. Curious, she turned toward the noise.

Her eyes widened when she saw who it was. Gregory—her lover—stood on the other side of the corridor, moving as though he were merely passing by, but signaling discreetly for her to follow him.

Honestly, the last thing Rymora wanted was to obey. But on the other hand, she needed to find out if there was any hope that her spy mission would end soon, since she had clearly been able to find nothing of value so far.

The fear of Lord Drehk loomed constantly over her. It didn’t help that she felt he would summon her even more frequently than before—especially after he had gone so far as to feed her something that could get her pregnant.

’He’s a vampire lord! He doesn’t love me... he just wants to own me!’ she reminded herself, lest she ever forget and mistake his attention for affection.

With a low sigh under her breath, she followed Gregory. He led her through the corridor and down the stairs, all the way outside to the servants’ building.

The farther he walked, the more irritated Rymora became, wondering why he had to go so far just to speak to her. There was no need for secrecy—whatever he wanted to say could have been discussed elsewhere.

But Gregory didn’t stop until he reached the barn. He slipped inside, and she followed quickly after him.

The place was filled with horses but otherwise empty, dimly lit by a few hanging lamps. The lamps were placed high to ensure no accidents could occur that might set the hay or the barn ablaze.

Rymora had just entered when Gregory turned around to face her, his eyes fixed on her as he beckoned her closer.

"It’s been a while. You look good," he said, shrugging off his coat as he spoke.

Rymora ignored his tone and odd behavior, choosing instead to focus on what she needed to say.

"Has Lord Falson said anything?" she asked, mentioning the council member she directly reported to as she continued quickly. "Will I be allowed to return to the pack soon?"

Her voice betrayed a morbid curiosity she couldn’t hide, tinged with desperation.

"I’ve found nothing, and I’ve been here for years," she continued, her voice pleading now. "I think I’ve done enough."

Gregory sighed, stepping closer as he spoke. "Relax. I haven’t spoken to Lord Falson, and he hasn’t sent me any message either. Clearly, he wants you to endure some more."

Rymora inhaled sharply, her chest rising with a heavier breath than usual, a hint of sadness crossing her features. But that sadness quickly gave way to shock as she caught a scent she wouldn’t have noticed before awakening her wolf.

Her senses were sharper now—every breath telling her something new.

’He’s been with a woman... no!’ her thoughts froze. ’He’s been marked!’

She kept her expression composed, though her mind reeled. He came closer, and she took in another careful breath, confirming what she’d sensed.

’I waited for so many years... I wouldn’t have even known if I hadn’t awakened my wolf!’

The realization settled cold in her stomach.

And worse still, she knew in that instant that Gregory would never want her to return to the pack.

"We should talk about better things," Gregory said suddenly, his tone softening as though to shift the mood. "Don’t you miss me?" he asked, moving closer.

Rymora nodded absentmindedly, her gaze fixed on him, though her mind was far away.

His furry ears twitched in excitement, and she realized why a moment later—because he reached out to pull her into a hug. She felt his body press against hers, the heat of his arousal unmistakable before she pushed him away.

She shoved him back with enough force to make her point clear, though she carefully restrained her true strength. The last thing she wanted was for anyone to discover that she had awakened her wolf.

"Me coming back home is important," she told him, steadying her voice. Then she added softly, no hint of suspicion showing on her face, "Don’t you want me to? We could live together like we talked about."

Tears welled in her eyes as memories rushed through her—of how, when her family had disowned her, Gregory was the only one who stood by her. He had offered her a way out, a chance to meet Lord Falson, a purpose.

But now she realized that if she hadn’t been careful when she arrived at the castle, she would have died—and Gregory would not have cared. He would simply have been praised for recruiting another spy for the network.

"Do you love me?" she asked, her voice trembling slightly as tears gathered.

And for the first time, she realized with a kind of cold relief that she didn’t love him.

But her brief clarity turned to horror as an image of someone else flashed through her mind—someone who had taken Gregory’s place in her heart.

"What? Of course I love you! You’re the only one I care about! Why do you think I keep coming here with the delegation?" Gregory’s voice rose slightly, anger flickering beneath his words, as though he was offended she could even doubt him.

’To fuck me,’ Rymora thought bitterly but didn’t say aloud.

’To wallow in my love and affection without giving anything in return,’ she told herself, realizing how much he fed off her emotions. Somehow, he seemed to enjoy her devotion more than her presence.

He was the worst kind of man—one who thrived on being loved but never intended to love back.