The Dragon King's Hated Bride
Chapter 66: Honest Questions

Chapter 66: Honest Questions

>>Aelin

I glanced down.

Bare skin.

My bare skin!!

My breath hitched, my sluggish mind instantly snapping into full awareness. The blanket pooled around my waist, and beneath it—nothing.

A sharp jolt of panic shot through me.

I looked lower, my heart slamming against my ribs as the horrifying realization dawned. I was completely naked.

Heat rushed to my face, spreading down my neck and shoulders like fire. My fingers trembled as I clutched the blanket, yanking it up to cover myself.

What... what is happening? Draegon stood at the side of the bed, holding my discarded clothes in his hands.

His expression was unreadable, his purple eyes unreadable as they flickered over me for the briefest second before he turned his back to me.

!?!

The silence in the room was suffocating.

I opened my mouth to speak. I wanted to ask for an explanation, to say anything—but nothing came out. Draegon, without a word, turned on his heel and walked out of the room, shutting the door behind him.

...

I sat there, frozen, gripping the blanket so tightly it hurt.

What... just happened?

Why was I naked?

Why had Draegon—

My mind raced, trying to piece together the events that led to this moment, but everything was a blur.

And Draegon was gone. I shook my head. Trying to make sense of things. He took off my clothes and just left? I pulled the blanket up to hide my naked scrawny body while feeling embarrassed.

...WHY!?

The door opened and Draegon returned before I had even gathered my thoughts.

He stepped inside, carrying a tray with a simple meal—light broth, warm bread, and a cup of water. His movements were calm, unbothered, as though nothing about this situation was unusual.

I, on the other hand, felt like I could combust at any second.

He walked over to me, "How are you feeling?" he asked, his voice steady as he set the tray down on the bedside table.

I swallowed hard, pulling the blanket tighter around myself. My face burned as I tried to push away the memory of waking up—of realizing I was bare beneath the sheets, of seeing Draegon standing there, holding my clothes.

"I... I’m feeling better," I managed to say, though my voice came out quieter than I intended.

A tense silence stretched between us before I finally forced myself to ask the question gnawing at me. "What... happened to my clothes?"

Draegon met my eyes briefly before answering, as if he already knew how I would react. "I took them off."

I was baffled by his answer. I know he took them off!! I want to know why! I shrank back instinctively, gripping the blanket with trembling fingers. "Why?"

"You threw up all over yourself in midair," he said plainly, unfazed. "I had no other choice but to stop at the nearest city. I brought you to an inn."

Oh.

I lowered my gaze, suddenly feeling foolish for my reaction. That made sense. Of course, it wasn’t anything else. Why would it be?

I let out a small breath and clutched the fabric covering me. The situation was still embarrassing, but at least it had a reason. My thoughts trailed off as I stole a glance at Draegon, who remained standing near the bed, seemingly unbothered.

His face showed nothing. No hint of awkwardness, no embarrassment, not even the smallest reaction to the fact that he had seen me completely bare.

Had he really felt nothing?

My stomach twisted with an unfamiliar feeling.

Was I not attractive enough?

Even if he didn’t love me, even if I was just a human, men still got flustered, right? So why wasn’t he?

Was it all true?

Ruoxy’s words came back to me, whispering like a ghost in my mind.

’A human would never be enough for a demon. And never a dragon, who had thousands of admirers.’

I bit my lip, pushing the thoughts away. Now wasn’t the time. But I couldn’t shake the hollow ache in my chest. Tears welled in my eyes before I could stop them.

One slipped down my cheek, hot and humiliating. I turned my face away, biting my lip to stop more from following.

But Draegon saw.

His sharp intake of breath cut through the air.

Before I could blink, he was beside me, kneeling at the edge of the bed. "Aelin?" His voice was urgent, his hands hovering as if unsure whether to touch me. "What’s wrong? Are you in pain?" His hand was bigger than my face, broad and coarse.

I shook my head quickly, willing the tears to stop, but my body betrayed me. Another tear slipped down, then another.

"Aelin." His voice softened, but it held firm insistence. "Tell me."

I clenched the blanket tighter, hesitating. The rational part of me screamed not to ask, to bury this ridiculous insecurity deep where it belonged. But the words tumbled out before I could stop them.

"Are you going to leave me?" I ended up saying, the words Reagan had told me twisted in my mind, about never stopping Draegon if he wanted someone else.

His expression shifted instantly—shock, confusion, then something deeper.

"I..." He exhaled, raking a hand through his hair as if struggling to comprehend how we got here. "Where is this coming from?"

I looked away. "It’s just... I’m not..." My voice wavered.

"You’re not what?"

I shook my head, "I just want to know, since we had a marriage of convenience."

A sharp silence followed.

Then, Draegon moved.

I barely had time to react before he cupped my face, his touch warm and grounding. His thumb brushed away the tears staining my cheeks, slow and deliberate.

"Did someone say something to you?" His voice was low, somehow soothing.

I swallowed hard. "No one—"

"Aelin." I looked at him, and my breath caught. His purple eyes burned with something fierce, something unreadable. He leaned in slightly, his presence overwhelming. "I’m not leaving you." His voice was steady, each word deliberate. "Ever."

My lips parted, but no words came.

"You are my wife," he continued, his hand still warm against my skin. "You’re mine. And I will never let you go."

Something in my chest twisted.

"You really think of me as y-your wife?" I couldn’t hide the surprise in my voice and expressions.

He looked perplexed at my question, "You are my wife." He raised a brow at me, "Why is that even a question?"

Hearing his statement made me feel a little stupid, but along with that, I felt a little bit warm inside as well.

***

Warm water lapped gently against my skin, its soothing heat sinking into my tired muscles. The dim glow of candlelight flickered across the tiled walls, casting long shadows that danced with each ripple in the bath. The room was quiet except for the soft sound of water shifting—and the steady presence of Draegon kneeling beside the tub.

I wished he wasn’t here.

Or rather, I wished I could disappear.

I pulled my knees up, hugging them against my chest as I sank deeper into the water, only my head peeking out above the surface. My face burned hotter than the bath itself.

"This is unnecessary," I mumbled, avoiding his gaze. "I can wash myself."

Draegon, utterly unbothered by my mortification, dipped a cloth into the water and wrung it out. "You’re weak right now," he said, voice calm but firm. "Just sit still."

I opened my mouth to protest, but the moment I shifted, a wave of dizziness washed over me. The bath sloshed slightly as I steadied myself, gripping the sides.

Draegon raised an eyebrow, unimpressed.

I scowled and turned my head away, cheeks flaming. "Fine. But don’t look."

To my utter annoyance, he chuckled but didn’t say anything. I nearly choked on air. Heat exploded across my face, spreading all the way down my neck. I sputtered, sinking lower into the water until only my eyes peeked above the surface.

Draegon merely hummed in amusement, which I found a little odd since he didn’t seem the type, but he listened to my word and didn’t stare. Instead, he shifted his focus to my hair, gathering it gently in his hands.

The way he touched me—so careful, so patient—was almost more unbearable than if he had been rough. His fingers wove through my damp strands, massaging my scalp as he lathered soap into my hair.

It was such an intimate thing, something I never imagined him doing.

Something I never imagined wanting him to do.

But, it felt... nice. Nicer than when the maids do it.

He moved with ease, his touch never lingering too long, never wandering. His movements were efficient, but not cold. When he finished rinsing my hair, he reached for a dry towel and draped it over my shoulders before helping me up.

I quickly wrapped the towel tightly around myself, holding it like a shield.

Draegon watched me for a moment, his expression unreadable. Then, to my surprise, he reached out and brushed a damp strand of hair from my cheek.

"You don’t need to be embarrassed," he said quietly. I peeked up at him, my fingers clutching the towel. He held my gaze, unwavering. "I won’t hurt you. And I won’t ever force anything on you."

"..." I stared at him

"I have and never will have any intentions of harming you, or making you feel bad. I simply wish for you to be at peace." Something in his voice, something deep and steady, made my breath catch.

I swallowed, looking away. " Then why..." I was reluctant, "Have you not come to bed with me?"

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