Chapter 4: [His Taste: My Ruin]

[Xavier’s POV]

Sunlight was useless on the battlefield.

Here, it only burned like shame.

I stood in the training grounds, sweat dripping down my spine, my breath shallow from restraint. The soldiers gave me space, too much space. They didn’t speak. Didn’t dare meet my eyes. They could feel the storm brewing beneath my skin....a fury that had no name, no direction, only fire.

My knuckles were already bleeding from where they’d met the wooden sparring post. The sting of torn skin wasn’t enough. Nothing was enough.

I slammed my fist into it again.

The image kept returning. His voice. That filthy, ruined whimper he made when I sank into him. His lashes fluttering, lips trembling, skin flushed and hot. His body beneath mine.....open, slick, desperate.

He said he hated me.

He begged me not to stop.

I should’ve stopped. I should’ve walked away before it even started. I should’ve thrown cold water over his body, dragged him to the King like a loyal subject. Like a good brother.

But no.

I fucked him. I fucking Fuked him.

Like he was mine. Like I had the right.

And now, I couldn’t stop seeing the way he looked at me. Not with hate. Not exactly. Something worse.

Hope.

When I woke in that bed, he was still curled into me like he belonged there. His breath warm on my chest. His nails still half....sunken into my skin. His thighs bruised and trembling from where I held them open for hours.

He whispered something soft. A sound. A name. Maybe mine.

And I ran.

Because staying would’ve meant facing it. Facing him. Facing myself.

I didn’t want his sweetness. I didn’t deserve it. All I could do was destroy him more.

But gods, his taste was still on my tongue.

My blood boiled.

I remembered his moans. How tight he was around me. The way he bit my throat. The way he called me "brother" in that voice....not innocent, not cruel, but something sinful in between. Like he wanted me to feel every inch of that word, even as I ruined him from the inside.

I wanted to forget. I did. But the more I fought it, the more my body betrayed me. My cock hardened with memory, even now, even in pain, even soaked in shame.

The soldiers looked away when I cursed aloud and threw the training sword across the field. It clattered uselessly against the stones. I stalked away without a word.

He was off-limits.

He was poison.

He was everything I couldn’t have and everything I already took.

And now....now he would weaponize it. I could feel it. In my bones. In the air.

"He wanted To ruin me, and he did". Xavier mumbles as he reach for his backside of neck.

___

By midmorning, the palace was already alight.

Not with fire.

But with whispers.

It began with a single guard. He spoke to a maid in a hushed tone, thinking it wouldn’t spread. He said the prince had looked drugged. Said he watched him stumble into the hall and grind himself on the General like a heat-struck whore.

The maid told a cook.

The cook told a footman.

And by noon, the palace thrummed with scandal.

"The prince fucked the General at his own engagement party."

It was already gospel.

[Raphael Pov]

I passed a corridor and heard the whispers behind fans, behind gloved hands. Eyes flicked to me, then away too late. I saw the looks.

Slut.

Manipulator.

The cursed prince, always half a breath from disgrace.

Perfect.

I made no move to stop the rumors. Let them grow. Let them crawl through every banquet hall and throne room. Because if they were looking at me, they weren’t looking at him.

And I? I had never looked more deliciously damned.

Soon, the summons came.

We were to present ourselves before the King and his full court.

The throne hall was colder than usual. Marble and silence. Xavier’s mother, seated beside her lover, narrowed her painted eyes the moment I stepped in.

She saw the bruises. The limp.

She knew.

The King said nothing at first. His hand gripped the lion-head armrest of the throne, knuckles straining white. He was silent in a way that meant danger. Rage brewing under still waters.

Xavier stood center. Armor polished. Stiff posture. Cold eyes.

But his jaw twitched when I entered.

I walked slowly. Deliberately. Each step calculated. I let my limp show. I let the coat slip just enough off one shoulder to reveal the blooming bruise beneath.

Gasps rippled through the room. Scandal in the flesh.

My shirt clung to my chest. Thin. Sheer. The bruises framed my collarbone like garlands of sin.

All eyes turned to me. And then to him.

Xavier didn’t speak.

But I saw it.

His hands were clenched so tight they trembled. His breath held. His gaze locked on me like he wanted to tear the coat off my body or burn it in front of everyone.

I tilted my head.

And smiled.

Let them all choke on it.

Let him remember exactly how I looked when he came undone inside me.

Because I remembered.

And I wasn’t going to let him forget.