The Death of a Tyrant's Concubine

CHAPTER 32 - Hate me, please

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"Show me what?" Sylvos asked, his voice quiet yet intrigued.

I rose from the bed, my fingers working at the ties of my gown. The fabric was soft, almost weightless, a delicate veil of pale violet that barely clung to my frame. Sylvos stood as well, his gaze sharpening as he watched me.

"You already saw during our travels for the Royal Hunt," I murmured. "But you should know..."

The ties came undone, and the gown parted. A shiver ran down my spine. I had been bare before Sylvos countless times, but this felt different.

The candlelight flickered, casting shadows over my skin. The scars gleamed silver-pink in its glow — one jagged across my chest, just above my heart. Another, crueler, traced a path along my lower abdomen.

This was the only way to ensure he would never touch me.

Sylvos stared, his black eyes widening slightly.

I dropped my gaze to the scars, to the proof of what had been stolen from me.

"As you know, I was stabbed," I said, dragging my fingers along the mark carved into my stomach. "The doctor said I would never bear children," I lied.

I lifted my gaze, meeting his.

"So please, Your Majesty, do not waste your time coming to my chambers. I can serve you as your Beast Warden, but as a concubine, I have no value to you."

My resolve hardened as I thought of the child I never had.

"I could never give you an heir," I said, my voice cold.

Sylvos stepped toward me, and I forced myself to stand still as his fingers ghosted over the scar on my belly. A strange expression flickered across his face, something unreadable beneath the candlelight.

"Are you certain?" he murmured. "Perhaps my doctor could—"

"No." I grabbed his wrist before he could continue. My eyes met his. "Please, Your Majesty, do not tell a soul. If the court finds out, you know I will be at a great disadvantage here. I might even be removed."

If he called a doctor, and the man found no damage, it would be too suspicious. Sylvos and I were the only people who could see these scars.

He said nothing, his gaze fixed on the ruined flesh of my stomach. Heat crawled up my skin as I realized how exposed I was. I shouldn't have felt self-conscious. I knew, even if I didn't remember every life before this one, that he had seen me like this before.

His expression darkened. Then, without a word, he dropped to his knees before me.

My breath caught.

His hands settled at my waist as he lowered his head, pressing a slow, tender kiss to the scar.

A sharp, unwanted shiver ran through me. My heart pounded.

"Please tell me, who did this?" he whispered against my skin.

I swallowed.

My body betrayed me, reacting to his touch despite everything I knew about him. Despite everything he had done to me.

I wanted to tell him the truth. To see his reaction.

Should I?

Ryn had told me it wouldn't work. That Sylvos had never believed me when I told him in the past. But what if these scars were enough? What if, for once, he listened? Perhaps I could just risk it regardless? Try again if it all fails?