Married To The Dragon Prince Against My Will-Chapter 277: GUILTY

Ashen burst through the heavy doors of Alexis’s private chambers like a storm breaking over the mountains. The two guards stationed outside lunged forward, spears half-raised, but froze the instant they met his gaze. Flames flickered at the edges of his irises—dragon fire barely leashed.

"Move," he snarled, voice low and lethal. "Move more than a finger, and you will regret it for whatever short time remains to you."

The guards remembered the last time the brothers had clashed: blood on marble, scales glinting, the king himself unable to intervene. They stepped aside without a word, backs pressed to the wall.

Ashen kicked the inner door open.

Alexis was half-naked, tunic unlaced, chest still flushed from whatever—or whoever—had occupied him moments before. His wife scrambled beneath the duvet, clutching silk to her breasts, eyes wide with shock.

"What did you do to my wife!" Ashen bellowed, voice echoing off gilded walls and velvet hangings.

Alexis raised both hands slowly. "Ashen—"

"Let’s talk." Ashen jerked his head toward the corridor. He turned on his heel and strode out, not waiting to see if his brother followed.

Alexis appeared moments later, still barefoot, tunic hastily tied. The moment he crossed the threshold, Ashen seized him by the front of the shirt and slammed him against the stone wall.

"I want to see the medic," Ashen growled. "The one from Absyland. Now."

Alexis stared at him, confusion sharpening into realization. "What?"

"The last time we spoke—right before this started—you did something. Didn’t you?" Ashen’s knuckles whitened. "Tell me."

"I don’t come into your chambers to play poisoner," Alexis snapped. "Give me that much respect as your—"

Ashen’s hand tightened, cutting off the rest. "I don’t know anything about her. I didn’t touch her. I—"

"Alexis, don’t mess with me." Ashen’s other hand moved to his brother’s throat, thumb pressing just under the jaw. "That woman is my life. Tell me the cure. Now. Or—"

"I am your fucking brother!" Alexis choked out.

Ashen shoved him hard. Alexis stumbled back, hitting the floor with a grunt. For a heartbeat neither moved. Then Ashen’s shoulders sagged; his knees buckled. He dropped to the cold stone beside his brother, elbows on thighs, head bowed.

"Please..." The word came out raw, broken. "I don’t want to live without her. Hell, before I take another breath without her..."

Alexis drew in a shaky breath. He reached out, hesitated, then rested a hand on Ashen’s shoulder—gentle, almost brotherly.

"Ashen... you have far more important things to do than sit with a woman. I told you not to love so deeply. Love makes you weak."

Ashen’s laugh was bitter, hollow. He surged to his feet. "You want me to take the throne, right? Fine. Guess there will be a lot of things changed around here. Just hope nothing happens to her. Because if it does..." He leaned down, voice dropping to a lethal whisper. "You will understand every word I’m saying today."

He turned and walked away, leaving Alexis on the floor staring after him.

Ashen returned to his own wing, but not to their shared chambers. He could not bear the thought of Lumina reaching for him in sleep, curling against his chest only to grow pale and weak the moment their skin met. So he barricaded himself in his office—a long, narrow room lined with shelves of legal scrolls, judgment ledgers, and maps of disputed borders. As Arbiter of Law, he had always preferred parchment and precedent to swords; now those same documents became his refuge.

He buried himself in work for three straight days. Messengers came and went with reports of border skirmishes, inheritance disputes, accusations of treason. He read them, signed them, sent them back—anything to keep his mind from the empty bed he could no longer share. At night he sent discreet riders toward the southern passes, seeking the elusive medic from Absyland who had once saved Queen Isolde. No reply came.

On the fourth evening, Ero—his most trusted aide—knocked softly.

"Your Highness... your lady insists on seeing you."

Ashen’s quill froze mid-stroke. He knew he should refuse. He knew the risk. But the thought of turning her away—of letting her believe he no longer wanted her—twisted worse than any poison.

"Send her in."

He bent over the scroll again, pretending absorption, until he felt small hands settle on his shoulders. A warm cheek pressed to the back of his neck. He exhaled, tension bleeding from his muscles despite himself.

Then something felt... wrong.

The scent was wrong—rosewater instead of jasmine and star-anise. The hands were too soft, too hesitant.

Ashen seized the wrists and yanked them away. He spun in his chair.

Briella stood there, smiling like a cat with cream on its whiskers.

"What the hell are you doing here, Ero!" Ashen roared.

Ero appeared in the doorway, bowing low. "I—I didn’t know what to call her, my lord. She said she was—"

Ashen’s fist slammed the desk. Ero fled.

Briella’s smile widened. "See? I have the right—"

"You don’t." Ashen rose, towering over her. "You are a concubine. Nothing more."

"I don’t give a damn about titles." She stepped closer, pressing her body against his. "I am your wife in every way that matters. I have every right to you—the same as her."

She wrapped her arms around his waist from behind, cheek against his shoulder blade. "Don’t push me away."

Ashen went rigid. "Don’t piss me off." 𝘧𝓇𝑒𝑒𝑤ℯ𝑏𝓃𝘰𝑣ℯ𝘭.𝘤ℴ𝘮

She leaned up, lips brushing his ear. "You’re forgetting—I’m from the Shadowed Realm. I have contacts. I can reach the medic from Absyland. The one you’ve been searching for. I can get you the cure."

Ashen went still. "What do you want in return?"

Her smile turned sly. "Make me bear a child. At least one. It’s the only thing that will let me stand beside her without being laughed out of the palace."

Ashen’s hand shot out, seizing her wrist and yanking her forward until their faces were inches apart. His eyes bored into hers—cold, lethal.

"Make this the first and last time you ever ask for that."

Briella’s gaze dropped to his mouth. She rose on tiptoe and pressed her lips to his—quick, bold, tasting of forbidden fruit.

Ashen’s eyes widened in shock.

"Ashen..."

The voice came from the doorway—soft, confused, heartbreakingly familiar.

Lumina stood there, blindfold in place, head tilted as though listening. Her hand stretched toward him. "Is there anyone with you? Why are you ignoring me?"

Ashen’s heart stopped. He wrenched his mouth from Briella’s, hand flying to her throat—not squeezing, just holding her still.

"Get out. Now."

Briella smirked, eyes gleaming with triumph. "She can’t see. She’ll never know—"

Ashen’s fingers tightened. "Get. Out."

Briella slipped free, sauntering past Lumina with deliberate slowness. Her shoulder brushed Lumina’s; Lumina sidestepped smoothly, almost gracefully. Briella stumbled slightly, caught herself with an exaggerated "Aww," then stormed out, slamming the door behind her.

The room fell silent.

Lumina turned toward her husband. Before he could speak—before he could explain, apologize, beg—she crossed the distance in three strides and slapped him.

The crack echoed like thunder.

"At least allow me to die before you touch another woman, you bastard!"

Ashen staggered half a step, cheek stinging. He stared at her—blindfold hiding her eyes, but every line of her body screaming betrayal.

"Lumina—"

"Don’t." Her voice cracked. "Don’t say my name like that. Not after I just watched you kiss her."

She had seen.

The realization hit him like a warhammer. She had seen everything—Briella’s hands on him, the kiss, the intimacy of their bodies pressed together—and she had pretended blindness the entire time. For Briella’s sake. To protect whatever fragile advantage she still held in this poisoned court.

His knees nearly buckled.

"I didn’t—" He reached for her.

She flinched back. "Don’t touch me."

The words were a blade between them.

Ashen dropped his hand. "It wasn’t—I didn’t want—"

"But you let her," Lumina whispered. Tears slipped from beneath the blindfold, tracking silently down her cheeks. "You let her put her mouth on yours. While I’ve spent four days aching for you, dying a little every time I reach for you and remember I can’t. While I lie in our bed alone, sore and empty, telling myself you’re staying away to protect me."

She laughed—a broken, bitter sound. "And all this time you were here, letting her crawl all over you."

"Lumina, listen—"

"No." She shook her head, wiping her cheeks with trembling fingers. "I saw it. I saw her kiss you. And you didn’t push her away fast enough."

He took a step forward. She took one back.

"I was shocked," he said hoarsely. "I didn’t—"

"You froze." Her voice cracked again. "For two heartbeats, you froze. That’s long enough."

Silence stretched between them—thick, suffocating.

Lumina drew herself up, spine rigid with wounded pride. "Go back to your concubine. Clearly she gives you what I can’t anymore."

She turned toward the door.

Ashen lunged, catching her wrist—gently, desperately. "Don’t walk away from me."

She yanked free. "Why not? You walked away from me first."

She left him standing alone in the office, scrolls forgotten, the taste of another woman’s kiss still on his lips like ash.

And for the first time since the poison took hold, Ashen felt something worse than weakness.

He felt guilt.