Betrayed By My Mate, Claimed By His Lycan King Uncle
Chapter 63: Why Is He Hard?

Chapter 63: Why Is He Hard?

Sorayah stepped into the bathhouse, the warm steam curling around her like a gentle embrace. The scent of rose petals mingled with the humid air, calming yet heavy with unspoken tension.

Dimitri was already in the bath, half-submerged in warm water strewn with petals. His head rested against the edge, eyes shut, the barest hint of contentment softening his features.

Without wasting a moment, Sorayah walked closer, her footsteps light against the stone floor. She picked up the sponge placed at the edge of his bath and knelt beside him. Her hands, steady and practiced, dipped the sponge into the water before gently scrubbing along his shoulder and chest.

The silence between them was thick, broken only by the quiet sounds of water rippling around his body and the rhythmic motions of her hands against his skin.

Then, finally, Sorayah spoke, her voice low but sharp with restrained curiosity.

"Why did we suddenly leave for war?" she asked, swallowing hard. Her hand paused momentarily before resuming its motion. "I thought we were meant to depart in three days’ time. What happened... exactly?"

Though she kept her tone measured, her mind was filled with thoughts. Deep inside, she couldn’t help but to think that Dimitri had accelerated the war effort solely to punish her, perhaps as retribution for killing Adam, one of his most trusted men, and Mira as well but yet something inside whispered that there was more to it than just vengeance. Still, that didn’t mean her crimes would go unpunished. That much, she knew.

Dimitri didn’t respond at first. The silence that followed her question was heavier than before, and she felt her jaw tighten in frustration. But she forced herself to remain quiet.

Eventually, he opened his eyes, the dark long lashes lifting to reveal an unreadable expression. A faint smirk curled on his lips, but there was no humor in it.

"The Alpha Emperor’s firstborn," Dimitri said slowly, "and the imperial concubine who carried his child... were both killed."

Sorayah’s hand froze.

"Likely the work of enemy spies," he continued, his smirk deepening into something bitter. "Hence, the war begins now."

The words hit Sorayah like a bucket of ice water. Her fingers trembled slightly where they rested against his chest.

"His child... was killed?" she whispered in disbelief. "Why? Why the child? Why not the Emperor himself? Lupien is the monster. He should be the one to die."

She exhaled shakily and dropped her gaze to the water. "Oh... I see," she murmured, barely audible, her voice tight with a mixture of sorrow and unease.

Just as she was about to resume her duty of scrubbing Dimitri’s body, he suddenly leaned forward. Instinctively, she leaned back, startled, but his hand shot out and grabbed her waist, pulling her closer to him. Their gazes locked, intense and unrelenting.

"Do you know," he said softly, his voice suddenly low and dangerous, "that sneaking weapons out of the palace is punishable by death? Especially a weapon like the Soul-Splitting Arrow."

Sorayah’s breath caught in her throat.

"That arrow alone could end you," he continued, "and if you had any descendants... them as well."

Her mouth opened, but words didn’t come immediately. When she finally spoke, her voice was firm but quiet.

"I only took it to protect myself... Your Highness," she said, her tone tinged with bitterness. She turned her face away, unwilling to meet his eyes. "You left me in the hands of Mira. I had no other choice."

Dimitri’s fingers lifted her chin, forcing her to look at him once more. His eyes burned with something unreadable, rage perhaps, or something else entirely.

"I had to defend myself," she said, her voice gaining strength. "Normal steel doesn’t affect you. But the ones forged and imbued with moonlight water... as well the Soul-Splitting Arrow, those do. I needed a weapon that would actually work."

"You hate that I left you in Mira’s care?" Dimitri finally asked, a dark smirk ghosting across his lips. "Would you have preferred to be punished by me instead?"

Her cheeks flushed in embarrassment or perhaps anger. "No! That’s not what I meant," she snapped. "But I was nearly violated by the guards at the mines. And Mira, your so-called ’loving’ wife gave them permission. If I hadn’t taken the Soul-Splitting Arrow with me, those bastards would have done far worse than threaten me."

Her voice trembled now, barely able to hold back the fury buried within.

"Hm. I see," Dimitri murmured, and then, with a swift motion, he pulled her into the bath.

SPLASH!

Water erupted, rose petals scattering in all directions.

"You....!" Sorayah shouted, her voice rising in outrage as her head broke the surface but she quickly controlled herself the moment her brain reminded her that she was before Dimitri afterall. She sat her buttocks down in the bath, her clothes soaked and clinging to her body. Wet strands of hair stuck to her face, and her eyes blazed with fury.

"Why did you do that your highness?" She finally asked, her tone now gently now.

Dimitri only chuckled, the sound deep and guttural. He leaned back again, satisfied, while the water rippled violently around them. He then stretched his arms above his head, his muscles flexing beneath the glistening water. He exhaled slowly, tilting his head toward Sorayah with a lazy smirk.

"My hand is about to go numb from holding you," he muttered, finally breaking the silence. The sound of rippling water accompanied his movements as he shifted closer to her. "Did you forget that I was holding your waist so you wouldn’t fall? I was waiting for you to regain your balance, but it seems you rather enjoyed using my hand as a... resting post."

Sorayah swallowed hard, a subtle shiver coursing through her. Still flustered from their earlier exchange, she replied quickly, "I’m sorry, Your Highness. But you caused it. If you hadn’t leaned so suddenly toward me, I wouldn’t have stumbled back in the first place."

"Oh, I see," Dimitri said, his voice filled with amusement as his smirk widened. He leaned back again, resting against the curved edge of the bath with an air of regal ease.

Silence followed, thick with unspoken tension.

Seizing the opportunity, Sorayah began to stand and make her way out of the bath. She had barely taken a step when Dimitri’s voice, calm yet commanding, stopped her.

"Just stay there and have a bath. You can grab a soap from the box behind you."

Her feet halted mid-step.

"I already told you stink," he added, keeping his eyes closed as though bored with the conversation. "You should clean yourself. Training starts soon, and you’ll be joining us."

"I’ll bathe," Sorayah replied firmly, "but definitely not with you, Your Highness."

Dimitri chuckled, the sound deep and taunting.

"The camp is full of men. Grown-ass warriors, all bathing together. Their bathhouse door is currently locked and will only open at night, when they all shower together again. It’s a tradition to strengthen their bonds and promote discipline."

He opened his eyes then, and the wicked curve of his lips returned.

"You, however... are a woman. My personal sex slave, even if you’re not currently on duty."

Sorayah’s stomach twisted at the term, her jaw tightening.

"Other than my bathhouse, you have no place to bathe," he continued, his voice quiet and deliberate. "Unless, of course, you’d like to give the men of this camp a free show. Trust me, it’s been a long time since most of them have seen a woman’s body. They’ve lived on the edge of death for months. Their return to their families depends entirely on the mercy of the moon goddess."

His gaze locked with hers, unflinching and dark.

Sorayah’s throat bobbed as she swallowed hard, her legs suddenly feeling as though they had turned to stone. She clenched her fists, refusing to let him see her falter.

"There must be a river nearby, right?" she asked, trying to keep her voice steady. She lifted her chin, defiant. Her gaze, however, drifted unwillingly toward Dimitri’s broad, wet chest, water dripping down the ridges of his torso. Her throat tightened again. "I’ll go bathe there. I wouldn’t want to taint your precious bathwater with my filth."

Dimitri scoffed, his expression hardening.

"You are you so eager to die, huh?" he asked, his voice edged with irritation. "Have you forgotten this is a temporary war camp? The enemy could be lurking anywhere. The moment they spot you, you’re dead. You think your little tricks from the mines will work here? You wouldn’t last a heartbeat."

He rose to his full height within the bath, water cascading down his chiseled form. And then Sorayah saw it, his erection, pointing toward her like a drawn weapon.

Her breath hitched. No matter how hard she tried to look away, her eyes remained glued to it. Her cheeks burned with heat, her pulse racing in her ears.

Then Dimitri turned, his back now facing her. His wet, sculpted rear came into full view as he stepped out of the bath and reached for a silken robe.

Why... why is he hard? Sorayah’s mind reeled. Was it... because he saw my chest?

She quickly looked down but then she was wearing his fur jacket afterall. No. No, he said my body doesn’t attract him. Maybe it’s something else. Maybe it’s not me at all.

Still, the heat crawling up her neck betrayed her thoughts.

Dimitri casually slid into the robe, the fabric draping elegantly over his form. Then he turned slightly toward her, the air of command returning to his expression.

"I’ll leave you to have your bath," he said, his tone smooth and composed. "I’ll have someone drop off an outfit, the same uniform the soldiers wear. Change into it once you’re done. You’ll join us at the training grounds."

His gaze lingered a moment longer, unreadable, then he walked out of the bathhouse, his footsteps fading with each passing second, leaving Sorayah utterly speechless.

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