All Chapters of Step Brother's Obsession: Our Forced Marriage [M×M]: Chapter 1 - Chapter 10

[NIGHT AT ROYAL HALL] The chandeliers above burned with a blinding brilliance, glittering across the opulence of the ballroom, but everything around Raphael blurred......fading into a haze of sound and movement he couldn’t hold onto. Something was wrong. His hands trembled as he lifted a champagne flute to his lips. It slipped from his fingers, shattering near his feet. "Raphael?" someone him called distantly, but their voice warped like it came from underwater. Today is His engagement party. That much he knew. He was dressed in tight silk—corseted cruelly around his waist, sheer sleeves clinging to his flushed skin—felt both heavy and unbearably light. The cold stone floor beneath his heels was the only anchor as his legs buckled slightly. His vision pulsed, everything glowing and warped, and then—he knew something is wrong today... His Eyes blurry as he tried to find a spot to hide, To regain, His control. Then He saw him. Xavier Rhéon Valerian. His stepbrother. His enemy

The morning arrived with no mercy, no warmth. It did not creep in with the hopeful glow of sunlight or the gentle melody of birdsong, but with silence so heavy it felt like judgment. Shame settled over me first. And then—worse than shame—satisfaction. [Raphael Pov] My eyes fluttered open slowly, my lids sticking slightly as if my body was reluctant to face the aftermath. The soft, pale light leaking through the curtains was too kind for what I felt. My head throbbed faintly, but it was nothing compared to the ache low in my spine. The sheets beneath me were damp and rumpled, clinging to my skin. When I shifted, a sharp sting radiated between my thighs, forcing a tight breath through clenched teeth. I froze. There was something wrong. Something violated. Tender. Marked. My fingers trembled as I slid them beneath the sheets, down between my legs. My breath caught. The sensation was raw, the skin there swollen and sticky with dried fluids. Some patches had a crusted texture tha

Raphael vs Xavier: Full Daylight Showdown [Before the King summons Xavier] The sun hung high above the palace yard, casting a ruthless blaze across the cracked training grounds. The scent of sweat and scorched earth filled the air, thick and punishing. Xavier’s boots struck the ground in rhythmic, unforgiving precision, each thud a command, each move deliberate. His wooden sword collided with his opponent’s shield, sending a harsh crack echoing through the yard. But his eyes.....sharp, steel gray.....weren’t on the man before him. They were somewhere else entirely. Back in that cursed room. Back in that silken bed where sunlight had slipped between bare bodies and unspoken sins. Raphael’s trembling form haunted him like a ghost. His pale fingers gripping Xavier’s shoulder. The faint warmth of his breath against his chest, and the rasped whisper of his name—broken, fevered, drugged or not, real or not, Xavier didn’t know anymore. He’d left him there. Still gasping. Still

[Raphael's Pov] [Few Hour's Later] I was burning. Not like a fever. Not like a blush. No this was something worse. My skin felt too tight. My blood moved like fire under my flesh. Every breath clawed up my throat and refused to leave. I collapsed onto my bed, drenched in sweat, limbs twitching, heat pulsing from my chest to my fingertips like a second heartbeat louder, wilder, wrong. I hear the The maids screamed. Footsteps thundered down the hall. “Raphael!” Hael burst in, nearly tripping over the rug as he crossed the room. “What’s happening to him?!” I couldn’t answer. My mouth opened, but only air came. Air and pain. My back arched violently. My hands twisted in the sheets. My nails tore through fabric. Something inside me was cracking. Something ancient and cruel and buried was clawing its way out. “I—I can’t breathe—” I rasped, but it didn’t sound like my voice. “Get the physician!” Hael shouted. “Now!” A blur of white. Shaking hands. Cold fingers pressed aga

[Raphael Pov] Father. The door slammed open with the force of thunder, rattling against the stone frame like the wrath of gods. He didn’t knock. Never did. He didn’t need permission to enter anywhere—especially not here. "Raphael," he barked, his voice echoing off the cold walls. He strode into the room like it belonged to him, his cloak flaring behind him, trimmed in gold, soaked in pride. "Finally, you are awake. Good. Now get up." The command landed like a slap. I blinked at him, still struggling to keep my limbs from trembling under the sheets. "What?" I croaked, barely recognizing my own voice. He didn’t stop. Didn’t look at me as a son—only as an inconvenience. "Enough lying in bed. You’ve embarrassed me enough. The court’s already whispering that my son can’t handle a little fever. Get. Up. And complete your training." I couldn’t even speak. Not from shock—