All Chapters of His Straight Pet: Chapter 91 - Chapter 100

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

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

Raymond’s POVThe arena floor was already red.The first blow struck so fast I almost missed it. Xalor moved like lightning, his body twisting low before springing upward with a strike that cracked through the chest of the Eastern Lord’s champion. The sound echoed like stone breaking apart, sharp and heavy, rattling my bones even from here.The other champion staggered back, spitting blood, his clawed hands swiping at the air.And the crowd screamed.It was not cheering like I had ever heard. It was hunger. A wild howl that rose from the throats of thousands of vampires packed into the stone seats. Their voices layered over one another, high shrieks and deep growls, creating a storm of sound that pressed against me like weight.I gripped the railing in front of me. My knuckles were white, and my heart hammered so hard I felt sick.This wasn’t fighting. Not like humans fought. This was destruction. This was bloo

Raymond’s POVThe crowd had never been louder. The stone arena shook with the roar of voices, vampires pounding their fists against obsidian railings, stomping their boots so that the sound trembled through the very ground. The sky above the arena was black with storm clouds that seemed conjured by the sheer rage and hunger of the thousands gathered.And in the center of it all—Xalor was breaking.I saw his body bend unnaturally under the force of the champion from the House of Ashclaw. It wasn’t strength alone. I had been watching carefully, desperate to hold onto something that would help me understand. And then I saw it: a flicker of red light around the Ashclaw champion’s wrist. A sigil burned faintly, hidden under his skin. A cheating rune. It lent his strikes unnatural weight, far beyond what his own power should allow.Every punch rattled like thunder. Every kick cracked bone.“Jude…” I whispered, clutching the edge of the pla

Raymond's POVThe return walk from the arena was longer than any walk that I have ever taken in my life.I could still hear the voices of the crowd in my mind. They weren't screaming now, and they weren't demanding blood, but I could hear them even in the silent halls of the Spire. They wanted blood. They wanted to witness pain. And they did.Xalor hurts.I couldn't help but remember. His form pinned to the rock, his face contorted in agony as the ill blow struck him, the false sword glinting with something evil. He attempted to rise once more but was unable to do so.I walked stiffly, my hands by my sides. The guards marched me through the high halls, but I didn’t pay much mind to them. I listened to the silent thud of their armor and the whosching of their capes along the stone, but nothing else concerned me: nothing except Xalor falling.This was my error.I knew that. Nobody needed to tell me anything. That