Divorce The Duke, Marry The King!
Chapter 43: Sea creatures

Staring down at her, Quinn smirked mischievously. "Why do I feel like this was intentional? Are these the ’ways’ you mentioned, perhaps?" He teased, earning an irritated hiss from her.

"Get off me!" She snapped, pushing against his chest and struggling to free herself. Yet her efforts were futile, he was far too strong for her. What had she been thinking? Quinn had always been heavier, and brute strength wasn’t her strong suit. She needed a better plan.

Leaning in closer, he murmured, "Like I said, there’s no one here. You can drop the act and do whatever you have been dying to do to me. Better make your move before it’s too late." His warm breath grazed her neck, sending an involuntary shiver through her body.

Her breath hitched before she glared up at him, snapping, "Is... killing you an option?!"

Quinn chuckled at her outburst, clearly enjoying himself.

Growing increasingly flustered, Belle blurted, "I don’t care what you are thinking. Any woman would find it hard to resist you, don’t make it sound like I am attracted to you! Because I am NOT attracted to you at all!"

Quinn raised a brow, his grin widening. "So, you are saying you find it hard to resist me?"

Belle froze, realizing how her words sounded. Her cheeks flushed as she scolded herself internally for falling into his trap.

"That’s not what I meant!" She bellowed, her voice rising. "It’s just...your physique and flirting skills that make you... objectively hard to resist! This has nothing to do with me!" She slapped a hand over her mouth, realizing she only made it worse. Why couldn’t she stop sounding ridiculous?

Quinn’s eyes sparkled with amusement as he leaned closer. "So, you are saying you find my physique attractive?"

She groaned, rolling her eyes in frustration. "Think whatever you want! Just get off me already!" She shouted, shoving at him again to no avail.

Quinn remained unfazed, his grin maddeningly smug.

Belle narrowed her eyes. "Fine. I gave you a chance," she muttered, then began tickling him in a last-ditch effort to get free.

He didn’t even flinch.

"Really?" He asked, clearly unimpressed. "We were married for almost six months, and you didn’t know I am not ticklish there?" He shook his head in mock disappointment, finally rolling off her to sit up.

Relieved, Belle sat up as well, pulling her knees to her chest and resting her arms on them. "It’s not like you know anything about me either," she said, her voice defensive.

Quinn tilted his head, smirking. "I wonder whose fault that is?"

She scoffed, shooting him a glare. "Unbelievable," she muttered under her breath, earning another smug grin from him.

"I wonder who’s truly at fault," she retorted, her voice sharp. Quinn turned to her with that same mischievous smile, the one that always managed to get under her skin.

"Playing the victim again, are we?" He quipped, his tone teasing.

That did it. She snapped, spinning around to face him fully. "Okay! I have no idea what you mean by playing the victim, and frankly, it’s driving me insane..." she paused mid-rant, her eyes catching sight of his back. Her anger faded, replaced by concern. "You are bleeding!"

She stepped closer, her fingers grazing his back as she examined the injury. "How did this happen? I thought you were only pierced, but this—" She gasped, her voice faltering as she saw the long, jagged cut.

"We need to get this stitched up immediately. I am not letting you bleed out." She straightened, already moving toward the cabin.

Quinn let out a low chuckle, though something flickered across his face. "Why? Wouldn’t you finally be at peace? You could marry Kia without me in the way," he said lightly, but his teasing tone didn’t land this time.

Belle ignored him, her steps resolute as she made her way to the cabin, knowing he’d follow.

"I don’t remember you being this stubborn," he muttered, trailing behind her. Yet as he watched her determined figure, a faint smile tugged at his lips.

All his memories of Belle were of an obedient, naive, and foolish mate, one who had done everything his foster mother wanted. Yet now, nothing about her made sense. How could someone so innocent have betrayed him?

The more he thought about it, the less it added up. If only her mother were alive, he might have the answers he needed. Her father, on the other hand, was a greedy werewolf who wouldn’t hesitate to barter his daughter’s soul for his own gain. He couldn’t trust someone like that.

Mia seemed like the only option, someone close to Belle who might reveal the truth. But Mia was fiercely protective, practically willing to die for Belle. Could she truly be trusted to share what she knew?

Belle stepped inside the cabin, and her breath hitched. The sight was unexpectedly serene and inviting.

A small bed, just enough for two, was neatly tucked into one corner. Beside it, a modest couch sat near a fireplace, the flames ready to warm the room when needed. The walls were decorated with drawings of fishes and other sea creatures, and Belle’s heart clenched.

The images reminded her of the sea collections she used to adore as a child, before her father’s cruelty snuffed out her love for ocean creatures. Her step-siblings had mocked her, calling her a mermaid instead of a werewolf, but she embraced it back then.

She had spent hours fantasizing about the ocean, even sneaking out to find it, only to be dragged back by her father’s men. But the memory that haunted her most was the day her father slaughtered a baby whale before her eyes. That was the day she vowed never to think about the ocean again, for its sake as much as her own.

Yet here, standing in this cabin, those memories came rushing back. The sea creature drawings. The peaceful atmosphere. And then, a realization struck her, making her gasp aloud.

She had told Quinn, years ago, about her dream honeymoon. A cabin near the ocean, filled with sea creature art and even an aquarium.

Slowly, she turned toward the door and just then, he entered. "You built this... for our honeymoon?" She asked, her voice trembling.