The Dragon King's Hated Bride
Chapter 104: Shame

Chapter 104: Shame

>>Aelin

My legs felt frozen to the ground, my spine stiff, and my heart—

It was burning.

Shame still coiled deep in my chest, but now it was joined by a flicker of resistance, of refusal. Of... defiance.

I had power. Somewhere inside me, I knew I did. And yet here I was, cowering behind someone again. Hiding behind a frail woman and then a warrior’s sword, waiting to be protected while the world burned outside.

I had something powerful enough to fight these monsters, to find their cores without much effort, and yet...

I wasn’t just someone anymore. I was the queen.

And I didn’t want to be someone who ran.

My fingers curled into fists at my sides as I slowly met Ariston’s eyes. He noticed the hesitation, the way I didn’t move.

His expression softened—but only a little. "Princess, please," he said, quieter now, "we don’t have time."

But I didn’t lift my hand.

I looked past him—at the shattered monster on the floor, at Seraphine

I didn’t move.

Ariston must have understood what was going through my head. His sharp eyes softened as he slowly lowered the hand he had been holding out to me, the blood on his knuckles already drying dark.

"I told you," he said, voice quieter now, as if afraid he might break something fragile, "war is a different thing entirely. Being suddenly attacked like this... no one’s truly prepared for it. Not unless you are especially prepared for it." He gave a small shake of his head, wiping at his sword with a tattered cloth from his belt. "It’s not something to be ashamed of."

But I was.

I didn’t say it out loud, but it screamed inside me.

He stepped closer to Seraphine, who had lowered her arm, calm and silent as ever despite what had just happened.

"Your Highness," Ariston said gently, reaching his hand out again—but this time, to her.

Ariston was sharp, he had never seen her before but he could immediately tell this was Draegon’s mother and he addressed her with respect too. But I guess, one would be a fool to not be able to tell when they both have identical purple eyes.

Seraphine, delicate and ghostlike, took his hand. Softly. Without resistance. Without question.

I stared at the sight of their hands touching. A simple moment—but it tore something open in me.

Guilt twisted sharp and unforgiving inside my chest.

I had wanted to help. I had spoken of helping. I had felt it burning through me—the need to stand, to be more than the girl in the shadow of kings and warriors.

But when the time came...

When that creature smashed through the wall, its twisted claws reaching for us—

I had frozen.

Not a shield, not a spark, not even a scream. Just... stillness. Like a little girl trapped in a nightmare.

And Seraphine, frail and barely recovered from years in isolation, had stepped in front of me.

My breath hitched. Shame coiled up my spine like a cold, wet chain. I couldn’t even look at them now—not without feeling like I’d betrayed something I didn’t yet understand.

I’m supposed to be more than this, I thought. I’m supposed to be more.

But I wasn’t.

Not yet.

And that truth cut deeper than any monster ever could.

I did better when Draegon fought Ruoxy... I did so much better then, even managed to end her...

So why? Why did I fail today? This monster was nothing compared to Ruoxy, so why?

Is it because I was in a safe space then? Because Draegon was doing everything in his power to keep me safe and I had time to prepare and think?

I clenched my fists

Then Ariston was right

In war... I would not have time like that... And I was indeed not fit to fight...

I was merely being delusional. I clenched my fists so tight, I felt my nails dig into my skin.

Ariston gripped my hand without warning, his fingers closing tight around mine as he guided Seraphine with the other. I didn’t resist. I couldn’t. The shame still curled deep in my chest like a weight I couldn’t lift and I let him drag me away with him.

The air thickened with the sharp scent of ash and blood, and the far-off sounds of battle echoed like thunder through the palace bones. Screams, roars, the clash of steel on something inhuman.

We reached the doorway, just about to cross the threshold to escape this cursed room

And then the floor trembled.

A shudder, deep and slow like the castle itself groaned in agony.

Then came the crack.

BOOM.

A louder tremor exploded through the stones beneath our feet as the wall beside the open window—just behind us—shattered.

The blast of debris and thick, choking dust threw us all to the side. Ariston caught Seraphine’s shoulder, steadying her as I stumbled back from the impact.

Instinctively, all three of us turned toward the noise.

The smoke hadn’t settled yet. Gray dust billowed like fog, thick enough to mask the thing that had landed within. Stones crumbled from the wall’s jagged edges, and a gust of fetid wind followed the intrusion like it had blown straight in from the Abyss.

Ariston’s voice tore through the haze. "Run!"

He didn’t wait.

He pushed Seraphine forward and bolted through the doorframe.

But I felt something then that just wouldn’t leave me alone

His grip on my hand tightened—but I yanked my arm free, my feet frozen in place.

I couldn’t stop staring at the smoke.

"Princess!" Ariston’s voice came sharp again, this time panicked, from the other side of the door.

But I didn’t turn.

The dust began to settle... and I saw it.

First, the long, spiked limb stretching from the debris, dragging across the ruined marble floor with a hiss.

Then another limb—larger, armored with bone-like plating—pounded down with a sound like thunder.

The monster rose.

Taller than the first. Thicker. Its head scraped the high ceiling, twisted horns curling backward like jagged blades. Its body pulsed with black veins, wet and glistening, as if its very blood were made of shadow. And its eyes—

They locked on me.

Two gaping holes, glowing faintly black from within, flickered like dying embers. But it wasn’t just looking at me—it was hunting me.

I felt it.

The same primal, predatory awareness that a rabbit must feel in the instant before the hawk strikes.

Still, I didn’t move.

Not out of courage.

Not out of power.

Just stunned silence.

The creature let out a slow, bone-deep growl that vibrated in my ribs.

Behind me, I heard Ariston shout again, "Princess! MOVE!" He threw Seraphine back and drew out his sword again.

But I couldn’t—not when those eyes held me in place, not when the weight of everything I had failed to be pressed down harder than ever.

I was supposed to help.

I was supposed to protect someone today.

Instead, I stood there—while the monster readied to strike.

And I knew in that moment, the only thing between life and death...

...was what I chose to do next.

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