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Chapter 95

Author: Lydia
last update Last Updated: 2025-08-26 11:23:00

Raymond’s POV

The first thing that struck me was the sound.

The arena was alive with it—rolling waves of voices, cries, growls, chants, all mixing together until it no longer sounded like language, but like the roar of a storm. I stood just behind Jude’s platform, half-hidden in the shadows, clutching the railing so tightly my hands ached.

The Crimson Arena was vast, carved out of black stone and ringed with fire that burned with unnatural colors—purple, green, and deep crimson. The flames licked upward as though they fed not on oil or wood, but on something living. The smell made me gag.

Blood. Smoke. Iron.

Thousands of vampires filled the seats that stretched high into the spires, their red or gold eyes flashing in the dark. Some wore cloaks embroidered with symbols I didn’t know; others sat bare-chested, their pale skin painted with runes of blood. They weren’t just watching. They were waiting to feast on the violence.

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  • His Straight Pet   Chapter 95

    Raymond’s POVThe first thing that struck me was the sound.The arena was alive with it—rolling waves of voices, cries, growls, chants, all mixing together until it no longer sounded like language, but like the roar of a storm. I stood just behind Jude’s platform, half-hidden in the shadows, clutching the railing so tightly my hands ached.The Crimson Arena was vast, carved out of black stone and ringed with fire that burned with unnatural colors—purple, green, and deep crimson. The flames licked upward as though they fed not on oil or wood, but on something living. The smell made me gag.Blood. Smoke. Iron.Thousands of vampires filled the seats that stretched high into the spires, their red or gold eyes flashing in the dark. Some wore cloaks embroidered with symbols I didn’t know; others sat bare-chested, their pale skin painted with runes of blood. They weren’t just watching. They were waiting to feast on the violence.

  • His Straight Pet   Chapter 94

    Jude’s POVThe first bell shook the sky.The second made the spires tremble.The third was the loudest—it seemed to pierce through flesh and bone, echoing in the hollows of my chest.The bells of the Crimson Spire did not announce weddings, nor peace, nor holy days. They rang only for blood. And today, they rang for the Culling.I sat already upon my throne. Iron carved into the shape of thorns coiled around me, its edges sharp, pressing faintly into my skin as though to remind me: this seat was not comfort, but burden. Above me, the banners of my house hung heavy, a crown of thorns upon black cloth.The arena stretched before me, carved deep into the earth—a vast circle of stone and sand, stained by centuries of blood. The pit seemed to breathe, as though it remembered every scream, every body broken within it. The scent of old iron never left.The seats rose high in tiers, filled with vampires. Thousands upon thousands, the

  • His Straight Pet   Chapter 93

    Raymond's POVSleep was impossible.Regardless of how many blankets I wrapped myself up in or with what force I pushed the pillow to my ears, those words lingered with me.You are the last remaining Seraphin.The woman's voice remained with me, as smoke and fire within my heart. I could not rid myself of it. I could not forget the scorched tree or the white shape within its brilliant flames. Each time I closed my eyes, I could hear her speak those very words.In Jude's room, which was otherwise quiet, my veins were hot. They pulsed as if whatever was inside me was trying to get out.I waited. I had to remain in the place where Jude left me. He was specific: don’t leave this room. The vampire Lords paced around, back and forth like wolves, and I was the rabbit in their den. If I was alone and vulnerable when they found me, I would not survive.But the longer that I was there, the more difficult it became to breathe.

  • His Straight Pet   Chapter 92

    Raymond’s POVI woke choking on smoke.No—there was no smoke. There was no fire. Only the image seared into my skull, hot as iron pressed to flesh: the tree burning.Its branches stretched like arms toward a black sky, every limb clawed by flame. Leaves fell in sparks, ash rising like snow into the void. And beneath it, standing in the red glow, was the woman. White-robed, untouched by fire, her hair long and pale as frost. Her lips moved, whispering words I couldn’t hear until the last syllable curled into my ear like a knife.You are the last Seraphin.I sat up with a gasp, heart hammering against my ribs, my sheets tangled around me like restraints. My skin burned. My veins felt alive, crawling under the surface, each pulse dragging whispers with it. A thousand voices, just under hearing, like the echo of a choir in an empty cathedral.I pressed my palms to my temples. It was just a dream. Just a dream. Just—The

  • His Straight Pet   Chapter 91

    Jude’s POVThe pit was still in my lungs when his hand closed around my shoulder.I hadn’t even heard him approach—though in truth, Xalor could never be silent. His presence was a weight of its own.“Still brooding over ghosts, my Lord?” His voice was low, half-mocking, but not unkind.I turned, and there he was: Xalor, broad as a mountain, scar cutting across his jaw, eyes sharp but steady. The same boy who’d once bloodied his knuckles on another fledgling’s face because they’d spat the word half-breed at me. The same man who now stood as my right hand, my only anchor.“You move too quietly,” I said, my voice rough.“You think too loudly,” he shot back. “Come. Enough staring at dead sand. You’ll drive yourself mad.”I should have resisted. I wanted to. But his grip tightened, and the weight of his presence tugged me from the arena like gravity itself.We walked the archway corridors together, torches hissi

  • His Straight Pet   Chapter 90

    Jude’s POVThe silence after the roar was the loudest sound I had ever heard.I was on my knees in the sand, my claws still buried in my father’s chest, his body pinned beneath mine. My breath came in ragged bursts, each one tasting of copper. Blood slicked my face, my arms, my tongue. My body was little more than shreds of muscle held together by will and venom.And yet—I lived.He did not.Calix of Thorns, my father, my Lord, the Supreme who had ruled a hundred years in shadow and terror, lay broken beneath me. Not dead—death was forbidden in the Culling. But immobilized. Defeated. Banished.The law was iron.And iron always rusts in blood.The crowd broke then. Some screamed my name, chanting it like a hymn. Others shrieked in horror, clawing at their throats, unable to bear the sight of their god stripped bare by his own son.But all eyes turned upward. To the Crimson Court.The Five Thrones sat above, their figures cloaked in scarlet shadow. When they rose, the very stones trembl

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