Betrayed By My Mate, Claimed By His Lycan King Uncle
Chapter 134: You’re now my concubine.

Chapter 134: You’re now my concubine.

Sorayah made her way to Dimitri immediately after her conversation with Arata. Her thoughts were consumed by the girl she had so carelessly promised to see as Lily.

How could I have forgotten her? she berated herself silently. How could I have been so busy, so distracted that I let this happen?

Without hesitation, Sorayah pushed open the door to Dimitri’s chambers, only to freeze at the sight before her.

Mira was seated beside Dimitri on the edge of the bed, dressed in a revealing silk robe that barely covered her body.

Mira’s eyes darted to the door. The moment she recognized Sorayah, her expression twisted into a scowl.

"What are your manners, maid?" Mira snapped coldly. "I would have assumed working in the Imperial Palace would teach you basic etiquette. But clearly, I overestimated you."

She scoffed, her tone turning mocking. "Then again, seducing powerful men seems to be your only real skill, doesn’t it? I heard the Alpha Emperor couldn’t keep his eyes off you."

Sorayah remained silent. Her lips were tightly pressed together, and her hands clenched into fists at her sides. But she didn’t look away.

Dimitri, who had been reading a scroll, didn’t lift his gaze.

"What’s wrong, Sorayah?" he asked casually, his eyes still scanning the parchment.

"Why are you even giving her attention, Your Highness?" Mira interjected, her voice sharp with irritation. "She deserves to be punished, not entertained. Honestly, your tolerance of her is an embarrassment."

"Get out," Dimitri said suddenly, his voice sharp and authoritative as he set the scroll aside. His eyes lifted...cold and focused...staring at the door.

Mira blinked, confused.

"Are you deaf?" she snapped at Sorayah. "He said to get out!"

"I was talking to you, Mira," Dimitri clarified, now turning to look at her directly. His gaze was like ice...calm, but dangerous.

Mira’s eyes widened, disbelief washing over her face. "What?! Me? You’re asking me to leave? Because of her?"

"You heard me," Dimitri said coolly. "Unless you’d prefer another round of house arrest."

He raised a single brow, and his tone left no room for argument.

Mira’s lips parted in protest, but no words came. Her eyes flashed with rage. Then, with a furious scoff, she rose from the bed and stormed toward the door. As she passed Sorayah, she glared at her with pure hatred, her eyes full of venom.

Moments later, she was gone, leaving only Sorayah and Dimitri in the room.

Dimitri leaned back slightly, folding his arms. "So," he said with a smirk, "you ran out of my chambers earlier, and now you’re back? What is it this time, Sorayah? Do you miss me already?"

Sorayah didn’t respond to his teasing. She stepped forward, her eyes burning with urgency.

"Did you know that Lady Mira had that girl in her custody?" she asked, her voice low but tight with emotion. "The girl you freed from the sex slave organization?"

Dimitri’s smirk faded slightly. He tilted his head, curiosity flickering in his eyes. "Her? What did she do to end up with Mira?"

"What did she do?" Sorayah repeated in disbelief. "Does someone need to commit a crime to be punished by your wife? That girl didn’t do anything wrong. Mira took her simply because she couldn’t hurt me so she found someone else to break instead."

She stepped closer, her anger simmering beneath the surface. "Only heaven know what that poor girl is going through now. I haven’t even avenged Lily, and already another innocent is suffering. I wanted to confront your wife directly, but I knew it would be pointless. That’s why I came to you. You’re her husband. Your words still have power."

"So, you want me to tell Mira to release the girl?" Dimitri asked, letting out a quiet scoff.

"Yes," Sorayah said firmly. "I may still be a servant, but I will not stand by and let another girl suffer. Not again."

Dimitri studied her for a moment, then leaned forward.

"And what happens when she’s released?" he asked. "What if she gets into trouble again...what if Mira targets her more harshly next time and I’m not there to intervene? What if she dies?"

The weight of his words struck Sorayah like a blow. Her breath caught.

"What?!" she whispered.

"It’s easy to frame a servant," Dimitri continued smoothly, as if he were discussing the weather. "Especially when no one’s watching. If I’m away and Mira’s in one of her moods... do you really think you’d be able to protect that girl on your own? You’re still just a maid, remember?"

Sorayah’s fists trembled at her sides. Her jaw tightened.

"Then what do you suggest?" she asked. "Do we just leave her there? Do nothing?"

Dimitri exhaled slowly, then gave her a small, unreadable smile.

"No," he said at last. "I’ll handle it. But not tonight."

"Then when?" Sorayah demanded. "What exactly are you planning to do?"

Dimitri leaned back again, his expression now unreadable.

"Don’t worry about that. You’ll know by tomorrow," Dimitri replied casually. Then, without warning, he rose from the bed in one fluid motion.

Startled, Sorayah instinctively stepped back only to misjudge her footing. Her heel caught the edge of the rug, and she stumbled slightly. But before she could fall, Dimitri’s hand shot out and grabbed her by the waist, steadying her effortlessly.

Her breath hitched. His hand, firm and unyielding, held her too close...too intimately.

Yet she didn’t move. Couldn’t move.

His gaze was steady, his smirk faint but unmistakable.

"And why is it," he murmured, "that I haven’t been addressed by my proper title lately? Others might start to think... something unusual is going on between us."

Sorayah swallowed hard. Heat rushed to her cheeks.

"I...I’m sorry, Your Highness, I..."

But before she could finish, Dimitri raised a finger to her lips, silencing her.

"No need," he said quietly, withdrawing his hand after a long pause. "You can leave now. I need to rest for the night."

Then he turned away and lay back down on the bed, facing the opposite wall as if the conversation had never happened.

Sorayah stood there, fuming silently.

Bastard. She cursed him inwardly, her eyes narrowing. Arrogant, manipulative bastard.

Still, he had said not to worry that he would handle it.

"Tomorrow is almost here anyway," she whispered under her breath before storming out of his chamber and returning to her own room to retire for the night.

*****

The Next Morning

The golden sun rose swiftly, its rays piercing through the silk curtains and falling directly onto Sorayah’s face. She groaned softly, stretching lazily under the covers.

Clang! Clang!

A loud metallic noise repeated and sharp rang out like swords clashing right beside her ear.

Her eyes flew open immediately.

What she saw next nearly made her fall off the bed.

Several maids surrounded her, bustling about like bees. Each one held something different: red gowns, golden jewelry, shimmering hairpins, polished shoes, trays of makeup, and layers of delicate perfume bottles.

Sorayah sat up abruptly, her brows furrowed in alarm.

"What in the world is going on?" she demanded.

One of the maids, who held a stunning red lace gown...clearly a wedding dress stepped forward and bowed slightly.

"It is time to get dressed, my lady. The groom has requested your presence in the Grand Hall shortly."

Sorayah blinked.

"Groom? Who’s getting married today?"

Another maid chimed in sweetly, "You are, my lady. Today is your wedding. You are to become His Highness the Beta Lord’s Concubine."

"W.. what?!" Sorayah sputtered in disbelief.

Before she could protest, two other maids rushed forward and gently but firmly pulled her from the bed.

They led her to the bathhouse, already decorated with rose petals and fragrant incense for a new bride. There, they scrubbed her body meticulously, washing away every trace of sleep and fatigue. Once clean, they dried her skin with soft cloths, massaged her with scented oils, and dusted her with lavender powder.

Then came the dressing.

They returned her to her chamber, where another team of maids worked efficiently...creaming her skin, perfuming her body with hints of rose and sandalwood, then carefully layering nine skirts upon her, each more luxurious than the last. The final skirt was a masterpiece: red lace adorned with rose petal designs, signifying her bridal status.

Her blouse was snug, accentuating her cleavage, while her golden hair was styled into an elegant twist adorned with intricate golden hairpins. Her neck, ears, wrists, and ankles shimmered with golden accessories.

When they were done, Sorayah stood before the mirror, utterly transformed.

"I..." she began, dazed, staring at her own reflection.

But there was no time to question further. Two maids took her hands again and led her swiftly toward the Grand Hall, where the wedding was already underway.

In the Grand Hall

The grand ceremonial space buzzed with hushed murmurs.

Dimitri stood at the altar, clothed in his formal attire...deep red layered with black and gold, his mask glinting under the chandeliers.

Concubine Arata sat one side, a warm smile on her face.

Lady Mira, however, sat rigid, her expression dark with unfiltered rage.

Sorayah walked down the aisle slowly, her heart pounding in her chest. Her eyes never left Dimitri’s.

When she reached him, she hissed quietly, "Is this your plan?"

Dimitri didn’t respond. He merely stared at her...his gaze intense, unmoving.

Sorayah narrowed her eyes and tapped his arm, breaking him out of whatever reverie he had slipped into.

"What are you staring at?" she whispered sharply.

Dimitri blinked, then cleared his throat.

"Let’s begin the wedding," he said, then reached out and pulled her closer by the waist. "You’re now my concubine."

"I’m not," Sorayah snapped, rolling her eyes in defiance.

"You are," Dimitri replied smoothly. "The moment you wore that dress, you became mine. The ceremony only makes it official."