Betrayed By My Mate, Claimed By His Lycan King Uncle
Chapter 146: You’re not a mere concubine Sorayah.

Chapter 146: You’re not a mere concubine Sorayah.

The Imperial Prison ~

Sorayah, now stripped of her ornate garments and dressed in bloodied prison whites, lay unconscious on the cold, stone floor. Her delicate frame was battered, her once-radiant skin now marred with bruises and smears from the savage beating she had endured.

"Oh well... Isn’t she a fallen concubine?" sneered one of the prison guards, circling her. "I heard she’s a human too. And now that she’s lost favor, no one’s coming to save her. Isn’t that pathetic?"

The four guards surrounding her all chuckled darkly.

"We were told we could have our fun with her," another guard added, his voice thick with malice. "As long as the emperor doesn’t show up, we’re free to do as we like. Honestly, even if he does come, I don’t care. I just want a taste of her. Let’s see what a human’s pink enclave feels like wrapped around a werewolf’s cock." He grinned wickedly. "I wouldn’t mind losing my head after. It’s not like I’ve got a family waiting for me anyway."

The others burst into crude laughter.

"Well, I’ll go first," another chimed in, stepping forward eagerly. He crouched down, grabbing Sorayah’s bloodied face and turning it toward him. Despite the blood and grime, her beauty still shone through...a beauty that only fueled their sick desires.

He began loosening the buckles of his uniform, hunger gleaming in his eyes. But just as he reached for the final layer...

"ARRRGH!"

The guard’s scream pierced the stillness as blood sprayed violently from his neck. Sorayah, her eyes blazing despite her weakened state, had driven a hidden dagger deep into his flesh. The blade, small but sharp, had been a gift from Dimitri.

"You filthy beast..." she hissed, her voice hoarse but defiant.

"You dare?!" shouted another guard as he lunged forward. He snatched the dagger from her hand and slammed her wrist to the ground. With a sneer, he began tearing open the front of her prison attire, exposing the thin undergarment that barely covered her chest.

Sorayah struggled, but her body had taken too much. Her strength was nearly gone, her healing abilities sluggish. The whips they had used on her weren’t ordinary...they were weapons forged specifically for suppressing werewolves, laced with toxins that paralyzed their regenerative powers. On a human like Sorayah, her body could barely comprehend the foreign substance, rendering her almost defenseless.

"Let go of me, you bastard!" Sorayah cried out, summoning what little energy she had left. She wrenched the dagger back into her hand and, with a trembling arm, drove it straight into the attacker’s skull. His body convulsed, then collapsed over her, blood splattering across her face and chest.

"You’re quite the dangerous one, huh?" the third guard growled, rage replacing his earlier amusement. "I’ll make sure you die the worst kind of death, you bitch!"

He lunged for her, grabbing at the last shred of cloth shielding her modesty.....

TWACK!

TWACK!

Two arrows whizzed through the air and pierced the skulls of the remaining guards in perfect succession. Their eyes rolled back as they collapsed, falling beside Sorayah with a heavy thud.

"Sorayah!" came a familiar voice...deep, desperate.

Dimitri.

He sprinted into the cell, his boots splashing through blood as he dropped to his knees beside her. He gathered her trembling form into his arms, cradling her.

"Let go of me, you bastard!" Sorayah sobbed, her fists beating weakly against his chest. Tears streamed down her cheeks, mixing with the blood on her face.

"It’s me, Sorayah," Dimitri whispered, his voice breaking. "It’s me....Dimitri. I came... I’m so sorry I came late."

"I knew you would come," she said through tears, her voice laced with fury and anguish. "But how dare you come late, you bastard! Those animals could have actually... actually claimed me!"

"I’m sorry. I’m a bastard....you’re right," Dimitri murmured, guilt etched into every line of his face. He shrugged off his regal coat and wrapped it around her trembling form. "You’re safe now."

Without another word, he lifted her into his arms in a bridal carry, holding her close, her blood soaking into his clothing.

"Kill all the guards in this prison," he ordered coldly, his eyes never leaving Sorayah. "We can get new ones."

Liam, who had followed behind, nodded silently and began executing the command at once, his blade already drawn.

As Dimitri carried Sorayah out of the prison’s dark corridors, they were suddenly met with the imposing figure of Mira, who had just arrived with two maids trailing behind her.

"Greetings, Your Highness....the Alpha Emperor," Mira said, bowing low with a seemingly respectful tone, though her eyes betrayed a glint of calculation. "People will surely talk once they see the emperor carrying a concubine in his arms like this."

She smiled faintly.

"Kindly allow my maids to take Sorayah. We’ll tend to her injuries properly. After all... we are sisters."

Without waiting for a response, the two maids she had brought stepped forward, prepared to take Sorayah from his arms.

"Step back!" Dimitri barked, his voice sharp and commanding, edged with an intensity that sent waves of shock and terror down the spines of Mira’s servants.

His eyes blazed as he clutched Sorayah tightly in his arms.

"I’m not carrying just anyone, Mira. I’m carrying my woman."

Mira’s eyes narrowed. Her brows arched in disbelief before her lips curled in irritation. She bit her bottom lip, holding back the flare of anger rising within her.

"Your woman?" she echoed mockingly. "How interesting. But then again, we are all your women, are we not, Your Highness?" Her tone was deceptively sweet, masking her fury beneath layers of formality. "Now kindly hand Sorayah over. You should go and rest...it’s been a long day."

Dimitri’s gaze remained unyielding.

"I’ll tend to Sorayah myself. You may return to your quarters and relax, Mira." His voice was low and lethal. "And do not forget...you are no longer my official wife. You now bear the title of a concubine, just as Sorayah does. The Empress Luna is my one and only official wife. Even she wouldn’t dare to stand in my way."

His words struck like thunder, leaving Mira and her servants stunned, their faces pale with humiliation and fear. Without giving her a second glance, Dimitri turned and strode away, carrying Sorayah protectively in his arms. Mira remained rooted in place, her expression frozen in disbelief and silent rage.

*****

Inside the Imperial Chambers...

Dimitri carried Sorayah through the polished marble halls and into the grand bathhouse attached to his bedchamber. The scent of rose petals lingered in the air, mingling with the warm steam rising from the expansive marble bathtub, which had already been filled in preparation for his return.

Without a word, he stepped into the bathhouse and gently lowered Sorayah into the warm water.

Then, without hesitation, he knelt behind her and began to wash her hair, his hands careful yet firm.

Sorayah winced slightly at the movement, then tensed.

"I can do it myself, Your Highness," she murmured, her voice hoarse. She swallowed hard. "I’ll bathe on my own."

Dimitri did not stop. "Just keep quiet and relax," he replied, his tone softened but firm. "You’re gravely injured. Let me take care of you."

He continued running his fingers through her tangled, blood-matted hair, carefully massaging her scalp and washing away the blood and grime. The water trailed down her head and face, rinsing the traces of violence from her delicate skin.

"I’m sorry," he said quietly.

Sorayah blinked, her throat tightening.

He’s been saying sorry too much lately, she thought, biting down on her lip.

"You shouldn’t apologize so often," she murmured after a moment, her voice almost a whisper. "You’re the Alpha Emperor now. If anyone sees you constantly apologizing to a mere concubine like me, rumors will spread."

Before she could finish her thought, Dimitri reached forward and gently pressed a finger to her lips, silencing her. He leaned in close, his breath warm against her cheek.

"You’re not a mere concubine, Sorayah. You’re my woman," he said, his voice husky and resolute. "Even if your title is low, your place in my heart is high. You helped me win this throne, remember? You made it easier than I ever imagined."

Without waiting for her response, he resumed his task, draining the now-bloody bathwater and refilling it with clean, fresh warmth. The room filled again with the soft scent of herbs and flower oils.

"Besides, I have a surprise for you," he added, a slight smile curling his lips.

"A surprise?" Sorayah asked, raising a brow cautiously.

"The one who killed Lily..." Dimitri paused for effect, his eyes hardening. "He’s alive. And he’s waiting to be killed by your hand. But you might not want to grant him death so soon. Perhaps, a punishment worse than death would be more fitting."

Sorayah straightened slightly, her body tensing despite her injuries.

"Really? Where is that bastard?" she demanded, her eyes sharp with vengeance.

Dimitri placed a calming hand on her shoulder.

"Just focus on healing first. Once your strength is restored, I’ll take you to him myself. You shouldn’t act with a weak heart or body. Let your wounds heal first."

Sorayah exhaled, her jaw clenched but nodding faintly in agreement.

Then she looked up again. "That girl... the one in Mira’s grasp. Can you help me get her out?" she asked, her voice softening. "She’s the only one I trust to serve me. Being under Mira’s control is a fate worse than death."

Dimitri gave a small chuckle. "Oh, I know. I’ll have Liam bring her to you tomorrow morning. Consider it done."

He reached for a cloth and the healing ointment, dabbing it gently onto her exposed skin.

"Now relax. Enjoy the bath while I apply your medicine," he said, voice warm. "And by the way... I love that you’re not shy around me anymore."