Yifa's POV He gestured for me to enter the closet, and cautiously, I moved towards him, hoping it was all just a playful tease. In this moment of seclusion, I yearned for him to reveal his genuine self, one with a compassionate heart. Yet, deep down, I knew better than to raise my expectations too high.. As I hesitated, my steps hesitant and slow, he impatiently closed the distance between us and forcefully gripped my arm, his touch more forceful than necessary. His words dripped with harshness, "You're unbelievably slow. Can't you pick up the pace?" His unkindness was palpable. With a shove, he pushed me into the room. As I glanced around, my suspicions were confirmed it was indeed a spacious walk-in closet. The closet seemed vast, divided into two sections, with a large vanity mirror occupying the center, adorned with an array of beauty products. Behind the mirror, there was a comfortable couch, spacious enough for two individuals. "It appears the couch will suffice for you. Afte

Yifa's POVI felt a chill creep over me as I heard the frigidity in his tone. Avoiding his gaze, I feared that my thoughts would spill out uncontrollably if I dared to confront him. Why? Why doesn't he acknowledge me as his mate? What explanation could there be for the presence of women's clothing in his closet? Why does he treat me with such harshness? Did I unwittingly do something wrong? Why can't he love me? Was it my own shortcomings that sparked the lack of interestin me? I am willing to change, to transform myself entirely for his sake.My mind raced with an avalanche of questions, words clamoring for release. Yet, I remained silent, imprisoned by the dread that he would definitively reject me as his mate. The mere thought of such a rejection threatened to shatter me completely. I would be left bereft, with nothing left to offer to persuade him to stay. My lack of wealth, beauty, or intellect would render me incapable of providing anything other than my own presence."I couldn'

Yifa's POVTears streamed down my face as I stepped out of the bathroom. I remained motionless for a few moments, trying to gather myself and sort through the overwhelming emotions that consumed me. I felt lost, unsure of what to do next.After a brief pause, I found myself drawn back to the closet, the very source of both solace and anguish. How ironic it was that the scent emanating from within could provide me with such conflicting emotions. Despite this, I couldn't resist the pull, and I hastened my approach toward the set of clothes. My omega and I craved the comfort it brought, as if it was the only balm for our wounds.The world seemed exceptionally cruel, forcing me into a predicament where the person who caused me the most pain was also the one who could provide the greatest solace. It was a paradoxical existence.Bringing my face closer to the first item I retrieved, I noticed it was a pair of black pajamas. Thankfully, the King had specifically requested dark clothing, but

Before I could utter a word, he preempted me with his own icy statement. "The Moon Goddess is nothing but a fabrication. Her entire persona is a deceit," he declared, his tone devoid of warmth.His words struck me with a jolt, leaving me rigid. He spoke of it so casually, as if it were an irrefutable truth. But what lie was he referring to? The Moon Goddess was the very foundation of our existence, the one who made us."Your Highness," my friends simultaneously addressed him, bowing in reverence.It hadn't occurred to me until that moment that I should offer the same deference, but only when he lifted his chin, casting an expectant gaze in my direction, did I realize my oversight.I don't find myself overly intimidated by his presence compared to others because he is my mate. However, deep down, I silently chastise myself for accepting the unequal treatment. Instead of viewing us as equals, he sees us as nothing more than his slaves."You left the room without my permission," his voic

Yifa's POVAs soon as he exited the room, an overwhelming surge of emotions washed over me, leaving me completely vulnerable and in tears. My initial impulse was to confront him, to release the pent-up frustration that had been building inside me for some time. I yearned to scream and strike him for his sheer cruelty, to retaliate against his heartless and malicious words that he had callously thrown at me without any hint of remorse or regret.There was a burning desire within me to pound his chest repeatedly, a desperate attempt to make him understand the excruciating pain that consumed my heart solely because of his actions. I longed to interrogate him, to understand why he refused to recognize me as his mate, to seek answers for every uncertainty that plagued my mind. But deep down, amidst the turmoil of my emotions, I couldn't shake the feeling that perhaps it was better not to know anything at all. The notion of remaining ignorant seemed more appealing because it would inflict l