The Cruel Prince

19| Mini Bonus Chapter(Tayyab's POV)

I am sorry I thought I am being mean for blackmailing you guys for votes and comments, so I am just gonna upload this one.

It's just a glimpse of Tayyab's POV. I am afraid this is all I can give you at the moment.

Hope you enjoy.

Give your views!

This for you guys, you amazing people who have supported me and waited for me. ❤

Tayyab shoved past the first set of doors into the antechamber and moved toward the entrance of his room. He paused before nodding to one of the guards, who twisted one of the bronze handles and pushed open the polished wood.

Upon crossing the threshold, Tayyab found the room completely silent. Utterly still. His gaze lingered over to his bed.

Hayat lay on her side. Her dark hair was splayed across dull silk, and her knees were tucked against the lone cushion on his bed. A fringe of black lashes curved against the skin beneath her eyes, and her proud, pointed chin was tucked into a gathering of silk beside her palm.

Tayyab sat down with care and refrained from looking at her for too long. Touching her was not an option, and that he was well aware of.

She was a dangerous, dangerous girl. A storm that tore the iron from ships, sinking them to their watery graves without a second thought. With a mere smile and a wrinkle of her nose.

But even knowing this, he surrendered to her pull. Succumbed to the simple need to be by her side. It wasn't like he hadn't tried. He did. But he failed.

With a slow exhalation of breath, Tayyab placed his sword on the floor and eased his body next to hers. He stared up at the ceiling, at the single flame in the golden lamp above his head. Even the dim light shining from its depths pained his eyes. He shuttered his gaze, trying to push past the weariness and the ever-present torment of the chained beast roaring inside his head.

Hayat shifted in her sleep and turned toward Tayyab, as though drawn by her own inexplicable compulsion. Her hand fell to his chest, and she settled her brow beside his shoulder with a muted sigh.

Against his better judgment, Tayyab opened his burning eyes to look at her one more time.

This dangerous girl. This captivating beauty who had wrecked him and at the same time put his broken pieces back together.

This destroyer of worlds and creator of wonder.

The urge to touch her now past logic, Tayyab's arm moved to encircle her in an embrace. He buried his nose in her hair, in the same scent of lilacs that taunted him from outside his window. The small, graceful hand on his chest drifted higher, beside his heart. Something he'd only imagined to do a thousand times.

Whatever torment he had to endure. Whatever evil he had to face.

There was nothing that mattered more.

He'd do it in a heartbeat, without a shadow of doubt.

Then he heard a noise in the far corner of the room.

He blinked hard, trying to refocus. His muscles tensed with heightened awareness when a flash of movement blurred across his vision. Tayyab squeezed his eyes shut, fighting to clear the lines, fighting to see through the layers of fog and shadow. The pain between his brows grew as his pulse rose to meet the unforeseen challenge.

Another blur of motion flitted across the room, this time in the opposite corner.

Tayyab removed his arm from around Hayat and reached for the pitcher of water by the platform.

When a new flash of movement caught his attention beside his desk, Tayyab heaved the pitcher in its direction and shot to his feet, his sword in hand. He'd kill anybody who would even try to harm her.

The sound of the pitcher shattering against the ebony woke Hayat, and she sat up with a startled cry.

"Tayyab? What's wrong?" She stood up too.

Tayyab said nothing as he regarded the stillness around his desk. He blinked again. Hard. His eyes blazed with the fire of a thousand suns. He pressed a palm between his brows and gritted his teeth.

Before she could stop her hands, they reached for him, as though they existed for no other reason than to touch him. Her fingers brushed across his jaw with a feather's caress before pulling away, and he closed his eyes on a soft inhale. Like the poison toying with its remedy, Tayyab tried to ignore his conscious, a mere touch of her skin is not nearly enough. Never enough.

His finger immediately brushed against her skin, he began at her brow and eased it's way to her temples before sliding into her hair, smooth as silk, dark as night. He watched her eyes open and turn from liquid to fire under his fingers. Tayyab ran his palms down to her neck, where he paused and pulled back. Because he had crossed the boundaries that he'd set for himself.

"Why won't you touch me?" she whispered into the darkness.

It took him a moment to reply. "Because if I start, I won't stop."

"I don't care." Hayat moved her face towards his and brought her mouth to his.

Tayyab woke up with a jolt, he looked around in confusion. The darkness of his room swallowed him.

It won't come true. It was just a dream. He told himself again and again.

He couldn't help but stare at the ceiling wondering, wondering if things were different. Wondering if he had a chance.

But he knew that It was a fitting punishment for a monster. To want something so much-to hold it in your arms-and to know beyond a doubt that you will never deserve it.