The Dragon King's Hated Bride
Chapter 114: The Day I Met Him

Chapter 114: The Day I Met Him

>>Ariston – Years Ago

I remember the sound of my breathing more than the shouting.

My chest was heaving—lungs burning, like I’d been running, even though I was just standing there. Blood dripped from the lower edge of the small brick clutched in my hand, the red thick and dark, trailing down to stain my already filthy sleeve.

The nuns stood in front of me, their black silhouettes blurred in the edges of my vision. They were yelling—I knew that. Their mouths were moving wildly, hands flying, fingers pointing. But I couldn’t hear them.

Just the sound of my breath.

In. Out. In. Out.

Behind them, the children stood in a clustered line, wide-eyed and silent. One of them was on the ground, curled up, hands pressed to the side of his head where the blood flowed freely through his fingers.

He’d called me a thing.

A mistake. A freak.

He wasn’t the first.

My gaze flicked up to the other children. Their eyes weren’t afraid. They were hateful. Their faces scrunched with disgust, like I wasn’t one of them. Like I was something less than human.

I didn’t blink. I didn’t flinch. I just kept glaring.

They all glared back.

All of them treat me like I’m some freakshow. Just because of the color of my eyes. They haven’t even seen my body. If they did, I wonder what they would do then?

But I refused to take the bullying. And that kid on the ground, with the bleeding head, tried to push me off the cliff, so I hit him back.

He tried to kill me, I only fought back.

My grip on the brick increased, the rough edges of it, scraping my skin.

!!!

The sharp jerk of my arm tore me from my tunnel of silence.

One of the nuns had grabbed me, fingers digging hard into the skin beneath my sleeve, making me drop the brick. "You demon-spawned thing!" she hissed, shaking me. "You’re cursed! You hear me? The devil made you!"

I glared back at her

"How dare you! You tried to kill the normal kid!!" Her eyes were turning red. She looked more like the spawn of a devil than I ever did.

"He pushed me off the cliff." I replied

"No, he didn’t!" She raised her hand to slap me, "You filthy liar!!!"

I was running again.

The forest was cold and wet, the air heavy with the scent of pine. Branches scraped my arms and face, the underbrush catching at my feet, but I didn’t stop. I didn’t even slow.

My knuckles stung with fresh scrapes, blood smearing the backs of my hands. The image of the nun who I beat up, and bashed her head to the ground, after she slapped me flashed through my mind.

My actions terrified all the people there. The other kids were finally afraid of me.

But I was a kid too. So when the other nuns came in to subdue me, I bit their hands and made a run for it.

The further I got from the orphanage, the easier it was to breathe.

But even here, alone in the wild, I couldn’t outrun the words.

Devil’s child.

Freak.

Mistake.

Mother had told me in her dying breath that I had to be careful around people. Humans would never accept me.

Unfortunately she was killed in a demon attack on the outskirts of the village where I lived with my mother. She told me in her dying breath to not stay in Havenmoore and leave.

But she never got to tell me where I should go as she bled out and died on the ever-green fields right in front of me.

I will never forget how she breathed, the final love in her eyes, mixed with the fear that she was leaving me alone.

"Run," She whispered in her last breath, "Go somewhere safe,"

But I didn’t know what she meant. After the attack, the villagers simply took me to the orphanage and left me there.

I pushed forward with my eyes closed until the trees broke and the sky opened up into a silver-gray clearing, moonlight slanting through the clouds. I stumbled, trying to catch me breath but before I could slow down, I collided into something and fell back

!!????

As I fell flat on my butt, I opened my eyes and my heart skipped a beat.

A low, thunderous growl shook the earth beneath my feet.

I looked up—and froze.

A beast stood in front of me. Towering, scaled, with yellow eyes that glowed like fire in the dark. A lizard-like monster with claws the size of daggers, a mouth full of rows of teeth meant for shredding.

It stared right at me.

And then it moved.

I stood up and ran without a second thought.

Branches whipped past me. My heart slammed in my chest so hard I thought it might break. The creature roared behind me, its heavy body crashing through the trees with terrifying ease.

I didn’t think.

I just ran.

And somewhere, in the pit of my chest, a thought bloomed—not loud, but relentless.

Maybe this is it.

Maybe this is how I go.

Maybe I was never supposed to survive in the first place.

My foot caught on a root, and I crashed forward into the dirt. The world spun. My limbs screamed.

I didn’t get up.

I just lay there, face pressed to the forest floor, gasping.

Always running. Always fighting. For what?

What’s the point of surviving when the world only wants me dead? When noone looks at me like I’m human.

The monster roared again, closer now.

I closed my eyes.

But something deep inside me refused to break. There was something always inside of me that refused to give up for some reason.

Even now. Even here. Even if no one loved me—if no one ever would—I still couldn’t bring myself to surrender.

I pushed myself up with shaking arms, blood dripping from my scraped palms. I turned to look at the approaching lizard and glared at it.

If this was the end, I’d still fight for it.

I would not die lying down.

I don’t want to die a weakling!!

Time slowed.

I could see the glint of its teeth. The ripple of its massive muscles under cracked, scaly flesh. The shadow it cast swallowed the moonlight. Death charged toward me, jaws wide, claws raised—

And then everything exploded in front of me.

????

A flash of silver. A deafening sound like something being torn in half. Blood sprayed the trees, a hot, metallic mist.

The monster’s roar was cut short—choked.

Its massive body split down the center, sliced clean in two.

The halves of the beast crashed on either side of me with a thunderous, wet thud, the ground trembling beneath the weight of its fall.

I just stood there, frozen, drenched in its blood.

And then... I saw him.

He stepped through the falling mist of blood like he’d walked out of a different world—like the moonlight had summoned him just for this moment. Tall. Broad-shouldered. His black hair was pulled back into a neat man-bun, the strands near his temple damp with sweat and blood. A few locks clung to the edge of his sharp jaw.

He wore dark leather pants that looked like they’d seen battle, and a worn, half-open shirt that did nothing to hide the muscle and power underneath. A long blade still glowed faintly with heat in his hand, crimson liquid dripping from its edge.

His red eyes caught the moonlight—and locked on me.

Not with pity.

Not with fear.

But... curiosity.

And maybe even something warmer. I didn’t know what it was then. I just knew I couldn’t breathe.

"You’re a mess," he said, voice low and easy, like none of this was out of the ordinary. His gaze swept over me—mud, blood, torn clothes, scraped skin. "Did you try to fight that thing on your own?"

I didn’t answer. My lips parted, but nothing came out. My mind was still caught between death and disbelief.

He looked down at the lizard, then back at me with an amused, almost smug smile. "Brave. Or stupid. Or both."

I blinked, finally finding my voice. "I didn’t ask for help."

"No," he agreed, sliding his blade into the sheath strapped across his back. "But you needed it."

And then he stepped closer.

He didn’t touch me. Just stood there, tall and powerful, casting a shadow that strangely made me feel... safer. Like if something else came for me now, it wouldn’t get far.

"What’s your name?" he asked.

I hesitated but still replied,"Ariston."

Something flickered in his eyes. Recognition, maybe. But he didn’t show it.

He just nodded, satisfied. "Well, Ariston... you’ve got fire in you. Not many kids would’ve stood their ground."

My chest ached. I wasn’t used to praise—especially not from strangers. Especially not from men like him.

"Who... are you?" I asked, voice barely above a whisper.

He smiled again, slow and enigmatic. "No one important." He was looking into my eyes and I could tell was was fairly amused.

"What are you looking at?" I spat as I tried to look away, not wanting him to see how red the color of my eyes were.

He chuckled, "I didn’t think I’d meet a kid like me here?" He was shocked, "Our people don’t really live in these plains."