Chapter 6: [The One Who Burn's Me: Your Monster Now]

[Raphael’s POV]

The moment the King’s voice thundered through the throne room—“Throw him in the dungeon”—a silence dropped like a blade across the floor. It wasn’t shock. No, shock would have faded by now. This silence was heavier, darker. Like a funeral bell that refused to stop ringing. Every noble, every advisor, every guard in the gilded court stilled, as if afraid to breathe in case it made them complicit. Even the banners seemed to stop swaying.

because everyone one know what type of punishment's are waiting in the dungeon, It's a hell in earth for humans.

But Xavier… he didn’t flinch.

He didn’t scream, didn’t plead, didn’t even look at the King. His back was torn open—flesh raw, blood still trickling between his shoulder blades where the whip had carved its sins. His shirt hung in scarlet shreds, clinging to the wounds like a shroud. But his spine? Still straight. His jaw? Set like a soldier ready to die with his name clean.

And then… he turned his head.

He looked at me.

Not at the court. Not at the King.

Just… me.

His eyes weren’t wide or soft. They didn’t tremble with betrayal. They weren’t even angry in the way I expected.

They were cold.

Cold in a way that made my knees almost buckle. Cold like a winter blade pressed against your throat, just enough to remind you that death can be beautiful if it’s delivered by the right hands. He didn’t need to speak. His gaze screamed it for him:

You wanted a monster. You’ve got him now.

My smirk—God, that pathetic smirk—curled like rot across my lips. I wore it like armor. I had to. Because beneath it, something inside me cracked. My heart gave one frantic, traitorous skip and then tried to slow itself with pride. I hated how his eyes did that to me. How they made me feel naked in front of a kingdom I was supposed to rule.

But when they dragged him out—blood trailing behind like a signature—I stopped pretending.

That smirk died.

Xavier didn’t resist. But the way the guards touched him… it wasn’t punishment. It was reverence. Their hands didn’t shove or strike. They steadied him. As if he still held authority even in chains. Even torn. Even condemned.

The King spat out orders like poison:

“No food. No water. No medicine. Ten days. Let him rot until he remembers who owns him.”

My eyes widened. Something inside me screamed, louder than any court decree.

Three days passed.

Three days without sleep. Without a proper meal. My body refused to rest. My chest ached like something had been carved out. My throat? Still raw from the silence I swallowed during the first lash. I had watched him bleed and kept my lips sealed.

And I hated myself for how it aroused me.

I could still feel him.

On me. Inside me.

The ache between my legs came in waves. Shameful. Addictive. I wrapped myself in silk sheets that felt too soft for the fire under my skin. I’d lie awake, clawing at my own arms, hearing the echo of his gasps in the dark.

I should feel victorious.

But I felt empty.

Because only I was allowed to break him.

No one else.

Not the King. Not the guards. Not even the gods.

“Restless?” Hael’s voice slipped through the room like smoke. He stood in the doorway, sharp-eyed and soft-tongued, his presence always unsettling in how much he saw without asking. My friend. His cousin.

“You got what you wanted, didn’t you?”

I didn’t turn. My eyes stayed fixed on the stars outside. They blurred in my vision like water. My fingers tugged at a loose thread on my sleeve, unraveling it one strand at a time.

“Is it guilt?”

“No.” Too fast. Too brittle. The word shattered between my teeth.

Hael stepped closer, placing a hand on my shoulder. “You’re winning the game. Just don’t lose the part of you that knows why you started playing.”

I yanked away. “He destroyed my mother. My crown. My name. I will destroy him back. Every piece. Even if it means I break myself doing it.”

I told myself that was the truth.

But it was a lie.

Because I didn’t want him broken by their hands. I didn’t want him humiliated like some traitor. I wanted him on his knees for me. Ruined by my hands. Crying in my bed, not in the dirt.

When Hael left, I couldn’t sit still.

The palace slept under the moon’s gaze, its quiet halls betraying none of the rot in its heart. I moved like a shadow. Food, water, a cloth. A blanket tucked under one arm. I didn’t light a torch. I didn’t need it.

I knew the path to the dungeon by heart.

Because I’d been there before.

Seven years old. Crying. Pleading.

I’d spilled wine on one of Father’s guests. And he’d thrown me in the dungeon like garbage. The dark still remembered my screams. The cold, my fear. And Xavier—he had watched. Unmoving.

My fingers grazed the stone wall as I descended.

Each step felt like a heartbeat.

I reached the last gate.

I pulled out the old key. Still warm from being hidden beneath my pillow, wrapped in silk. I slid it into the lock. Turned.

The iron groaned.

And the scent hit me first—blood, damp, rust, and something deeper. The smell of suffering.

Then I saw him.

Xavier.

Curled on the floor, shirt glued to his wounds. His back split open. Blood crusted in dark patterns across his skin. His breath barely stirred the dust.

He wasn’t dead.

Not yet.

I stepped closer. Quiet. Careful.

And then—he moved.

The tray crashed. The blanket fell. Before I could scream, his hand locked around my throat and slammed me into the wall.

Stone kissed my spine.

I gasped, kicking against him. His hand was fire and steel.

“Who sent you?” he growled, voice cracked from disuse. From rage. From hell.

“I—I—” I stuttered.

His eyes focused. And then they darkened.

“You.”

Like it was a curse.

I tried to smile. “Came to check if you were dead. Shame… you’re not.”

He didn’t let go.

Stars danced in my vision.

I gasped, clawed.

“LEAVE ME!” I choked.

And then—chaos.

Guards stormed in. Torches flared. Shouts filled the dungeon. They tore him from me, chained him again.

But his eyes?

They never left mine.

And his words—

“I will ruin you… in ways you’ve never imagined.”

They sank into my bones.

I stumbled out, chest heaving.

But my lips curled.

Because now… I had woken him.

And Xavier Rheon Valerian was mine to burn.