All Chapters of His Straight Pet: Chapter 21 - Chapter 30

Raymond’s POVThe first thing I noticed when I woke up was how quiet everything felt.Too quiet.I blinked, sat up slowly. The room around me was dim, lit only by the dying glow of a single candle on the far wall. Jude was gone. The heavy chair he always sat in was empty. His coat wasn’t draped over the arm like usual. No scent of blood in the air. No warmth on the pillow beside me.It was just me.But I wasn’t the same.Something inside me buzzed. My skin felt alive. Like my whole body had been rewired overnight. I took a breath and nearly gasped—the air was thick, rich, layered with scents I couldn’t have noticed before. Old wood. Cold stone. Metal. And underneath all of that, something faintly sweet…Blood.I stood up too fast and caught myself against the bedpost. My fingers dug into the wood. Harder than I expected. When I let go, I saw faint dents where my nails had pressed.What the hell?I stepped toward the mirror. Slowly.My reflection looked like me… but sharper. The shadow

Raymond’s POVI hadn’t slept since the shadow beast.Jude tried to make me rest. Said I needed time. But how could I rest when my skin was alive? When the inside of my veins felt like they were humming? Like something ancient had taken root and was slowly, carefully, unfolding from within me?I stood alone in the upper chamber. The candles were lit low, flickering in rows along the stone walls. I had been staring into the mirror for what felt like hours. The same mirror Jude brought me to. The one that didn’t lie.My reflection wasn’t just me anymore.It shimmered. Shifted. Glowed faintly red.The mark on my wrist had grown. It had spread in thin, ink-like branches, winding up my forearm like some kind of living tattoo. But it didn’t stop there. Sometimes I’d catch it pulsing, glowing like molten metal. Like it was breathing.I pressed my hand against the mirror.And that’s when the whispers started.At first, I thought it was the wind. The manor made all kinds of noises. Old wood. St

Jude’s POV“Why?” I asked again.The air in the throne room turned thick. Cold. Like the walls themselves knew what was coming.Dante looked at me.Straight in the eyes. No smirk. No game.“Because we think the one behind the attack… isn’t from our court.”Selene folded her arms, her silver nails glinting in the torchlight. “We suspect this came from someone… older. Someone with a claim to you. Someone with motivation.”I narrowed my gaze. “What the fuck are you saying?”Akira’s eyes were locked on mine now. Calm. Observing. Dead serious.“We believe this was your father.”I went still.Everything around me fell quiet.The wind outside the high towers.The fire in the hearth.Even my own breath.“My father’s dead.”“No,” Selene said softly. “Just buried.”I laughed once. Low. Bitter.“Calix of Thorns was banished. Stripped of his title. Exiled. Even the Realm Stone rejected him.”Dante stepped forward slowly. “But you and I both know he didn’t die. Not truly. Not with the rituals he p

 Raymond’s POVI hadn’t been outside in days.Jude had kept me locked in the manor since the last... incident. After I passed out. After I whispered his true name. After everything went quiet—and too loud—all at once.He said it was for my safety.He said the walls were safer than the world.But walls can turn into cages. And I wasn’t built for cages.So I left.I waited until the evening, when the shadows were long and the air had a bite to it. Jude had gone to the east wing, probably studying scrolls or brooding in one of his fire-lit rooms.I took the key he didn’t know I had. Slipped past the reinforced door. Walked out the front gate before the guards could notice.Freedom smelled like street air. Like exhaust. Like perfume and cheap coffee and hot pavement.God, I missed it.I walked through downtown, hood up, jacket zipped. Hands in pockets. Head low.

 Jude’s POVSelene took a step back from the painting, her eyes still fixed on the blood-red canvas like it whispered only to her. Her hands folded behind her back, fingers twitching beneath her velvet sleeves.“This gallery is quaint,” she said after a long silence. “Very human. Smells like varnish and regret.”I didn’t answer. I was too busy reading her.She was calm. Too calm.That was never a good sign.Selene didn’t just wander. She moved like a queen in a game no one else could see. Every step was strategy. Every word a seed.So I waited.And finally, she gave it to me.“I want to see your world, Jude.”I narrowed my eyes. “You're already in it.”“Not the gallery,” she said, turning to face me. “Not the coffee-stained sidewalks and crumbling alleys. I want to see what you’ve built.”&ldq