Imara Diversifies The Beastmen World

Chapter One Hundred and Two: Bondfires I

Wilbard's POV

The suffocating grip of despair tightened around me, squeezing the air from my lungs. How had I allowed everything I cherished—my mate, my only friend, my very sense of self—to slip through my fingers like grains of sand?

Watching Imara walk away, each step she took felt like a knife twisting deeper into my chest. The weight of the necklace she had given me sat heavy in my palm, a tangible reminder of all I stood to lose. I felt myself unraveling with every fading echo of her footsteps, the ache of loss gnawing at me from the inside out.

I retreated to the solitude of my chamber, a space that once provided comfort but now only suffocated me with its silence. The second the door shut behind me, a raw, primal cry tore from my throat—"Gahhhhhhhhhhhhaa!"—reverberating off the cold walls. But the emptiness only swallowed my pain, offering no solace.

In a frenzy, I lashed out. My hands clawed at the furniture, toppling everything in my path—tables, chairs, even the ornate trinkets Qean once delighted in. None of it mattered now. I wanted to tear apart everything, to find some release from the turmoil boiling inside me. But the destruction did nothing to ease the storm within.

Collapsing amidst the wreckage, my chest heaved, my hands trembling as they gripped the floor beneath me. In the suffocating darkness of my own thoughts, I curled into a corner, fists pounding against my chest in a desperate, rhythmic attempt to reaffirm who I was.

"I am, I am," I muttered, the words spilling from my lips in a whisper—less of a declaration and more of a plea.

Each thud of my fists resonated through the chamber, a brutal reminder of my own strength, my authority, and the trials that had shaped me into the ruler I had become. Yet, with every beat, doubt gnawed at the edges of my mind.

Stripped of all pretense, I questioned everything. My position, my choices, my very existence. The realization that my carefully built empire was beginning to crumble beneath me weighed heavier than any crown ever could.

I buried my face in my hands, shaking my head, the whispered mantra still escaping in ragged breaths. "I am... I am..." But the words felt hollow now, empty echoes bouncing around my head, unable to drown out the doubts clawing at my soul.

Even now, I couldn't let go of my distrust for Imara. No matter how much she had given, how much she had shown me, a part of me still refused to believe in her sincerity.

Yet, the truth loomed over me like an inescapable shadow—her influence was spreading. Not just through the city, but into the hearts of those closest to me, even Qean. The thought of losing what I had held onto so tightly all these years, of having to share what I believed to be mine, unsettled me more than I wanted to admit.

What would I have to do to maintain my standing, to ensure my place in this world didn't crumble beneath the weight of her presence? What would I have to sacrifice?

These thoughts poisoned me, tainting every corner of my mind with selfish desires that had long become second nature. I had built my existence on them, securing my power, my mate, my place as King—no matter the cost. But now, those same desires threatened to consume me, leaving me grasping at the frayed edges of control.

When did I become this way? When had I let my ambitions twist me into someone I no longer recognized?

The answer haunted me in the silence that followed, the echoes of my own destruction surrounding me. My desires, my greed, my unwillingness to let go—they had shaped me into something I never intended to become.

I thought I had everything I needed. But as I sat alone in the dim light of my shattered sanctuary, I realized the truth.

I was losing everything.