All Chapters of His Straight Pet: Chapter 151 - Chapter 160

Raymond’s POVMy blood’s on fire. It’s like the letter’s ink is alive, crawling through my veins, whispering disposable, no witnesses. I’m in Jude’s bed again, the furs heavy, suffocating, the room spinning like I’m drowning in ash. My head throbs where the stone split it, bandage sticky with blood. His scent—copper, frost, shadows—clings to the sheets, and I hate how it steadies me, even now. Even after everything.I see him in flashes: his fangs grazing my lip, his shadows cracking the council hall, his hand slamming me into the wall. You scared me, I told him, and he shattered. But that letter—his handwriting, or close enough—says I’m nothing. A vessel. A thing to be used and tossed. My chest aches, not just from the curse but from the doubt gnawing at my bones.A voice cuts through the haze. “Drink this.” A healer, her face blurry, presses a cup to my lips. It smells of herbs and iron, bitter as regret. I choke it down, coughing, my throat raw. She’s kneeling beside me, hands glow

Raymond’s POVMy veins burn. Like molten metal poured under my skin. The curse whispers in my head — disposable, no witnesses — the same words from the letter, carving themselves into my skull.I’m back in Jude’s bed. The sheets are damp with sweat, the air thick with herbs and blood. My head throbs where the stone split it. The bandage sticks to my skin, pulling every time I move. His scent — frost and copper — lingers on the sheets. It’s the only thing keeping me from screaming.I see his face in flashes — his lips on my forehead, his voice cracking when he said I love you. It should hold me together. It doesn’t. The curse twists every memory until I can’t tell what’s real.The room swims when I blink. Shadows crawl along the edges of my vision. Not his shadows — mine, born of fever and fear. My chest aches. The bond throbs, faint but steady, his heartbeat pulsing somewhere inside me. I grip the furs, trying to hang on to that rhythm. To hi

Raymond’s POV “Jude, stay with me!” I yell, voice all cracked, my hands burning with light, chains biting my wrists, blood dripping hot onto the altar. The fortress shakes like it’s gonna collapse, air thick with ash and that nasty magic stink. Hollowkin swarm, claws scraping stone, red eyes glowing like coals in the dark. Selene’s there, her crown cracked, sparking, her face twisted, screaming, “End it!” Her shadows lash at us, black and sharp, but my light flares, burning them back, their screeches loud as hell. Jude’s slumped against me, blood soaking his shirt, his shadows weak but curling around us, shielding me. The bond’s roaring, our heartbeats mixed, like we’re one, keeping me from losing it. Calix stands back, clutching a glowing altar chunk, smirking like he’s already won. “I’m here,” Jude rasps, voice rough, grabbing my hand, his claws grazing my skin, gentle but shaky. His eyes lock on mine, dark, desperate, blood dripping from his arm where Calix’s blade hit. I see his

Jude’s POVRaymond’s limp in my arms, burning like fever and ice all at once. The arena’s a ruin — cracked stone, smeared ink, blood and dust in the air. The crowd’s still screaming, though it all sounds far away, muffled by the rush in my ears.My shadows coil around us, hissing, guarding. Above, Selene watches like she owns the world — calm, cruel, her rune pulsing red at the center of the pit. It beats like a heart, ripping at the bond between us.Raymond’s heartbeat flutters in my chest — faint, stubborn. His lips, his voice whispering I trust you — that’s all that’s keeping me upright.“Enough!” I roar. The sound cracks through the arena, shattering a pillar. The crowd goes still. Dante lies sprawled in the sand, his runes sputtering out.Selene laughs, light as glass breaking. “You’re finished, Perez. Your human’s dying, and so are you.”My shadows lash out, smashing stone, scattering the first few rows. I tighten my grip around Raymond, his head resting against my shoulder, his

Jude’s POVThe air in the undercroft is heavy, akin to breathing through a grave. Shadows twist like ghosts as damp stone walls drip and candles spit out weak light. Every step I take is as loud as my beating as my boots crunch on loose dirt. Beside me, Raymond's hand is in mine, shaking but tightly holding. I can feel it through the bond; his face is pale, his head is perspiring, and the curse is still burning in his chest. His hitting is halting but firm.Akira is in front of three committed guards, their spears sparkling, his aura a steady hum. At the end of the tunnel, a black iron door etched with runes, red and shining like fresh blood, stands as the vault's entrance. With blood on the ground, one guard down, and his cries cut short, Selene's shade-binders struck us here, their trap still fresh. My Seraphin blood is fighting the vampire hunger inside of me as my shadows curl at my feet, weak and fading. Raymond's touch is a lifesaver, and his beating keeps me steady. All I need