The Dragon King's Hated Bride
Chapter 82: Say It

Chapter 82: Say It

>>Ariston

"Don’t come after me!!" I yelled over my shoulder as I ran, my skirts billowing around my legs.

"Why not?" Drakkar’s voice was practically singing with amusement. "I never thought I’d get to see you like this. I can’t let you slip away!"

Bastard.

I didn’t stop to argue—I sprinted.

My tail swayed wildly behind me, my wig nearly slipping off as I pushed past laughing festival-goers, weaving through the crowds like a madman.

Drakkar was right behind me.

I could hear him, his heavy footsteps pounding against the cobblestone, effortless and unhurried—like he wasn’t even trying, like he was simply enjoying the chase.

"Excuse me—pardon me—move!" I gasped, dodging a group of children holding festival lanterns.

One of them gasped, "Wow! She’s so fast!"

I wanted to scream.

Drakkar was laughing.

"Come on, Ari," he called teasingly. "Why are you running from me?"

"WHY DO YOU THINK?!"

I took a sharp left into an alley, jumping over a pile of crates. Drakkar followed without hesitation, vaulting over them like a damn beast.

I swerved again—this time into a crowded food stall, knocking into tables, almost sending a tray of meat skewers flying.

Drakkar skidded to a halt, his chest heaving.

"Really?" he deadpanned. "You’re hiding in the food stalls?"

"Shut up!" I grabbed a random skewer and threw it at him before running again.

Drakkar caught it mid-air.

He actually bit into it.

I hated him.

"Thanks for the snack!" he called, still chasing after me.

We tore through the festival—past acrobats spinning through the air, past jugglers tossing knives, past an old woman selling charms who cursed me for stepping on her foot.

Finally, finally, after what felt like an eternity of madness, I spotted a set of stone stairs leading up to an abandoned courtyard.

Salvation.

I ran up them two at a time, reached the top, and collapsed onto the steps.

Panting.

Sweating.

Dying.

Drakkar wasn’t far behind. He strolled up the stairs, looking annoyingly refreshed, and sat next to me.

Silence.

Just the sound of our ragged breathing filling the air.

"...That was fun," Drakkar finally said, stretching his arms behind his head.

I turned my head to glare at him. "I hate you."

He smirked, his golden eyes glinting mischievously. "And yet, you ran so beautifully for me."

I groaned and shoved him.

"Take a hint and leave me alone," I glared at him but he simply shook his head at me

"No," He folded his arms, "I enjoy my time with you."

I let out a heavy sigh and rolled my eyes, "Yea, I am an entertainment to you after all." I turned around to look away, a headache seeping in.

My chest rose and fell rapidly as I sat on the stone steps, sweat clinging to my skin. My wig was barely holding on, and my tail flicked behind me in annoyance.

Drakkar sat beside me, looking obnoxiously comfortable.

He wasn’t even winded.

I resisted the urge to kick him down the stairs.

Instead, I focused on regaining my breath, though my lungs burned like I had swallowed fire.

Drakkar’s voice broke the silence. "So," he leaned back on his hands, stretching his long legs out in front of him. "Why the hell did you come dressed like that?"

I stiffened.

I had no choice but to answer him. He wasn’t going to let it go.

"...I came out to investigate," I muttered.

Drakkar didn’t even blink.

"Ah. That explains it." He turned his head slightly, looking at me with amusement. "So? None of them had black blood."

I frowned. "That doesn’t mean anything. It’s still suspicious. I need to investigate more."

Drakkar exhaled a soft chuckle, shaking his head. "Why are you so eager to look for Abyss worshippers?"

I narrowed my eyes. "Because what better place to assemble than a festival?"

Drakkar hummed, seemingly considering my words. Then he asked, "Why are you so sure about it?"

"Because I have a strong feeling we’ll be able to tell why they’re worshipping the Abyss." I turned my gaze back to the festival below, watching the glowing lanterns dance in the breeze. "Or how they’re harnessing the power of it."

Drakkar was quiet for a moment, and I could feel his eyes lingering on me.

Then, finally, he smirked.

"Well, Ari," he drawled, "I hope you enjoy playing detective in a skirt."

I got so annoyed by his words that I stood up and began to walk away without a word

***

>>Aelin

Draegon went completely still.

The silence that followed was deafening. "Asha..." His voice was quiet, almost disbelieving. His eyes, wide with shock, locked onto mine, searching. The glow of the festival lights barely reached us here, but I could still see the way his expression shifted—how he tried to piece together something that had been hidden from him all this time.

For a long moment, he didn’t say anything. He simply absorbed it. And then, finally, he turned fully to face me.

"Why are you saying that Alishay killed the baby?"

I felt the breath catch in my throat.

There it was.

The moment I had been dreading.

A part of me had known this conversation would come. But now that it was here, now that Draegon was looking at me with those piercing eyes, I felt something raw and uncertain clawing at my chest.

Would he believe me?

Would he defend her?

She was his sister, after all. Someone he had known his entire life

Me? I was just the human princess he had been forced to marry.

I curled my fingers against my dress, gripping the fabric as I tried to steady myself. My heart pounded painfully, and doubt poisoned my thoughts.

Would he think I was lying? Would he accuse me of making up something so cruel?

I couldn’t look at him.

I had spent so long keeping this truth buried. Speaking it now—saying it aloud—felt like exposing an open wound, letting it bleed freely.

Draegon must have noticed my hesitation because his voice softened.

"Aelin," he said, his tone steady but gentle. "I already trust you."

I stiffened.

He reached out, but he didn’t touch me—just placed his hand close enough that I could if I wanted to.

"I need to know how it happened."

His words were firm, certain. Like there wasn’t a single doubt in his mind that I was telling the truth. Something in my chest twisted painfully, and I forced myself to look at him. His gaze wasn’t questioning. It wasn’t skeptical.

It was just waiting.

I swallowed.

Even now, I hesitated. But I also knew that he deserved to know. So, despite the tightness in my throat, despite the ache in my heart, I opened my mouth—

And told him everything.

***

By the time I finished, tears were already falling down my cheeks.

I hadn’t realized when they had started. At some point, my voice had wavered, my chest had tightened, and the weight of everything I had buried for so long had finally broken through the surface.

Draegon sat there, completely still.

His expression was unreadable—his eyes dark and distant, his brows furrowed like he was trying to grasp something that refused to settle in his mind. He looked... lost.

Like he couldn’t make sense of what I had just told him. Like he couldn’t understand how something so terrible had happened without him knowing.

Then, before I could say anything else, he moved. Without hesitation, he pulled me into his arms.

The warmth of his body enveloped me, strong and steady. I sucked in a sharp breath, my fingers clutching weakly at his clothes, but before I could react—

"I’m sorry," he murmured against my hair.

I froze.

His voice was low, rough, filled with something deep and raw. His arms tightened around me as if trying to hold me together, as if trying to make up for all the time that had passed.

"I’m sorry, Aelin," he said again.

And then he kept saying it.

Over and over.

"I’m sorry. I’m so sorry."

Each time he spoke, his grip on me became firmer, like he was afraid I would disappear if he let go.

I had spent so long carrying this pain alone. I had swallowed it, buried it, convinced myself that no one else would understand.

But now—

Now, he was here.

Apologizing for something that wasn’t even his fault. Something he never even knew about.

And that only made the dam inside me break completely.

A broken sob tore from my lips, and then I was crying.

My body shook with the force of it, my chest heaving, my breath coming in gasps. The pain I had held onto for so long spilled out all at once, raw and uncontrollable.

But Draegon didn’t let go.

He held me through it.

Through every choked sob, through every tremble, through every silent scream of grief that I had locked inside.

He kept whispering his apologies, pressing his forehead against mine, his voice full of something indescribable.

And I cried my heart out in his arms, feeling, for the first time, that I wasn’t alone in this.