The Dragon King's Hated Bride
Chapter 12: Unreal Sacrifices

Chapter 12: Unreal Sacrifices

>>Aelin

The dim light of my room felt colder than before.

I sat curled on the edge of the bed, knees pulled tightly to my chest, trying to steady the storm inside me. Across the room, the black-fox spirit maid perched quietly on the small couch near the corner.

I stared at the shadows on the wall for what felt like hours before I broke the silence, my voice cracking, fragile. "Who saved me?" I couldn’t recall who it was, no matter how much I thought about it. I do remember someone pulling me out of the water, some muffled voices, but nothing else.

The maid’s ears twitched, and she lifted her head, her black eyes catching the faint light. She didn’t answer right away, as though carefully weighing her words. "Princess Alishay did, my lady," she said,

I flinched, the name slicing through me sharper than I expected. Alishay. Of course. I swallowed against the knot in my throat, forcing myself to breathe past the ache. My fingers trembled against my knees as I pushed out the next question. "Does... does Draegon know?"

She hesitated, her tail curling protectively around her waist like a shield, then nodded. "Yes, my lady. He was informed."

The answer wasn’t a surprise, but it struck me anyway, a heavy blow to a heart already cracked and bleeding. My pulse thundered in my ears, my throat raw as I forced out the words I dreaded most. "Did he come?" My voice wavered, faltered. "Did he..." I couldn’t even finish the thought. "Did he visit?"

Her gaze dropped to her lap, her hands fidgeting slightly. The silence stretched too long, and then she shook her head. "No, my lady. He didn’t."

I stopped breathing for a moment. The room felt impossibly still, as though the entire world had paused to let me drown in this truth. My chest heaved, but the air seemed too thick to pull in.

Silent tears began to slip down my cheeks, unbidden, unstoppable. I didn’t bother to wipe them away.

I didn’t want to know about this fact that even if I threw myself into the void, even if I was dying or dead, Draegon wouldn’t blink.

The realization clawed at me.

I let out a hollow, bitter laugh, tilting my head back as the sound slipped free. It echoed through the room.

"Why would it mean anything to him?" I whispered to no one in particular. My voice shook with the weight of the truth. "The sacrifice wasn’t even real."

My laugh cracked, splintered, and the words tumbled out in a strangled whisper. "It wasn’t a sacrifice. It was a murder." My own voice betrayed me, breaking under the weight of the confession. "Something I did with my own hands."

The laughter dissolved into sobs. I clutched my head, my fingers tangling in my hair as the noise in my mind surged. "I killed my baby..."

I was drowning in it—drowning in my despair, my guilt, my everything.

The maid shifted uneasily, her ears flattening against her head, but she remained silent, watching me only because it was her job at the moment.

...

The door creaked open, but I didn’t turn to look. The soft patter of hooves on the stone floor told me it was the doctor, Lazelle. Her presence didn’t stir me and I kept my gaze on the floor, my mind too heavy to muster even a flicker of curiosity.

"You’re awake," she said softly, her voice calm but indifferent. She moved to the bedside table, setting down her bag. I heard her rummage through it, the faint clinking of glass vials. I stayed still, letting the silence between us grow. I didn’t want to talk. I didn’t want to do anything.

The bed dipped slightly as she sat beside me. I felt her fingers take my wrist, the faint sting of alcohol as she cleaned the wound that wasn’t even visible anymore. The scar was gone, erased by magic, but I still felt it.

Must have been the work of a healer. The ache lingered, as though the pain had rooted itself deep in my bones.

"Can you sit up dear?" She asked and then began to help me sit up even before I made an attempt. I had no choice but to sit up because she basically made me do it with her strength. Once I was up, I felt something around my neck stir.

The chain was open and the pendant I always wore slipped and fell on my lap.

The doctor followed my gaze as I looked at it. It felt right at the angle where it hit my lap and opened up. But I didn’t bother to do anything about it.

She tilted her head, "Birth-scales are sacred, because they are taken from the heart." She picked it up from my lap and began to wrap it around my neck again. I didn’t say anything to her, I was too spaced out and depressed for that, "It’s the most vulnerable part of a dragon, given only to one person—someone chosen as an eternal partner." She said as she was done.

She backed away, then glanced at me. When I gave her no response, she began to do her work.

She finished tending to my wrist and stood, smoothing down her coat as if this were just another day, just another patient. "You should rest," she said, her voice devoid of emotion. "Your body is still weak. Try not to waste it further."

I simply watched her leave the room without a word.

I didn’t want to think about anything. Didn’t want to feel anything. I didn’t want to live either.

But I was being forced to do everything against my will

***

>>Draegon

I stood in the middle of the room, frozen in place like a puppet dangling from strings I couldn’t see but could feel—oh, I could feel them. They wrapped around me, binding every part of me, controlling every step I took, every breath I drew, every blink of my eyes.

Ruoxy circled me, her bare feet silent against the floor. She moved with that familiar feline grace, her anger hidden behind her sly.

"I can’t believe you broke out of my spell just because that little minotaur maid told you, your wife was about to kill herself." Her voice was sharp. She stopped in front of me, tilting her head as if I were some strange thing she couldn’t quite understand. "My spell is strong." She placed her finger on her lips, "Very strong. I have never failed before."

She didn’t allow me to speak, so I stood there with my mouth shut. My tongue wouldn’t shape the words. All I could do was listen as she clicked her tongue in irritation and continued, her tone dripping with displeasure.

"But you keep trying to break out of it," she mused, shaking her head as if I were some unruly child misbehaving. Her golden eyes narrowed as her smile grew wider, angrier, her tail flicking behind her in restless annoyance, "Good thing your sister took over and handed you to me."

Every muscle in my body screamed against her hold, if I could- if I could just get out of this dark spell once more!!

I could feel her magic in every movement I was forced to make, like invisible chains coiled around my limbs..

Ruoxy could see the cracks in my resistance, the desperation bleeding through every inch of me. And she didn’t like it, "I have to use more of my magic on you. I can’t have you doing this again. Not when I haven’t even started with my plan."

Her laugh was low, dark, and it echoed in my ears, drowning out the sound of my anger.