Dylan de Beaumon, the adopted daughter of a Duke, recalls the memories of her past-life after hitting her head. Upon realizing she was a villainess character in a novel, she decides to use her intellectual giftedness to get a good career and run awa...
WARNING: This chapter contains minor scenes of violence which may be triggering to some readers.
Dylan's shaking eyes widened. "You mean you—"
A roar of maniacal laughter escaped from her mouth. Tears streamed down her cheeks and her whole body shuddered violently.
The dewy-eyed girl with irises of light brown and gold looked at him with a threatening expression. It was the first time she had ever met his scornful gaze.
"I am not your fucking possession," she barked. "Not now. Not ever."
Axil's mouth twisted into a snarl at seeing her cry and shiver with fear. He grabbed Dylan by her thin wrists and pinned her trembling body roughly against the wall.
"It's funny how you think you're worth something," he growled, tightening his grip around her bony wrists. "You're just a disgusting wench leeching off my family's fortune."
Dylan lifted her head, staring at him through trembling eyelashes and tears. "And what? Are you going to kill me?"
Axil's face suddenly softened.
"Then do it," she said in an expressionless tone. "Kill me, brother."
There was no light in Dylan's eyes. They were dark and empty.
After a moment of silence, he let go. Dylan collapsed onto the floor, her body trembling and short of breath.
Jessie immediately rushed to her side. "My Lord," Jessie said with quivering lips, "please leave."
Axil opened his mouth to speak, but immediately shut his lips as if he was unsure of what to say. "I'm sorry" was all he muttered before storming out of the room.
***
"You look quite tired today," Grisa said. "You have dark bags under your eyes, Dyl. Did you—"
"I'm fine," interrupted Dylan. She tugged at the hems of her sleeves, pulling them low enough to cover where her wrists were swollen with bruising.
'Is she serious right about this now?'
"The Crown Prince just happened to be in this hallway," Grisa explained, approaching Dylan's side and linking arms with her. "I said His Highness could walk to class with us. That's okay, right?"
Dylan stared at him awkwardly and his lips slightly lifted in response. His eyes seemed to mock her. It was almost as if him being here was no coincidence. She felt awkward having to face Prince Caspian after she rejected him yesterday.
She reluctantly said, "Sure."
The three of them walked alongside one another in silence.
Dylan's shoulders sagged, as if an invisible weight was weighing down on them. "This is..."
Grisa tilted her head to the side. "Do you two know each other?"
Dylan frowned, unsure of what to say. Prince Caspian was in all of her morning classes. They also met once, briefly, in the dark shadows of the auditorium when he sought her out—a meeting that sounded more scandalous than it had actually been.
"We have classes together," he said nonchalantly.
Dylan flinched.
'Why do I feel like I've done something wrong?'
"I—have spoken to him once or twice," Dylan said hesitantly. "In our classes... that we have. Together."
Grisa looked at her, brows high. "Did you two—canoodle or something?"
"Eh?" Dylan glanced at her in surprise. "Ca-canoodle, you say?"
"Yes, you know," she said softly, "like kissing and—"
"No!" Dylan shouted. She swallowed nervously. Caspian and Grisa are supposed to end up together. It wouldn't turn out well if Grisa thought she was canoodling with the Crown Prince.
Grisa blinked twice slowly and then smiled mischievously. "Oh, I understand now."
"You do?" asked Dylan. "Good, because I didn't want you to misunder—"
"You two are in love," she said. Grisa's eyes lit up with excitement as she smiled brightly. "My best friend and the Crown Prince—a perfect match made in heaven!"
Dylan blinked away hot tears of frustration, unable to understand how Grisa could've possibly come to that conclusion. "Gris," she said slowly, "listen. His Highness and I—"
"Are lovers!" Grisa interrupted.
"No—"
"I promise you," Grisa said, smiling innocently, "your secret is safe with me!" She practically skipped off down the hallway, humming a joyful tune.
Dylan felt a strong hand on her shoulder, preventing her from chasing after her puppy-like friend.
"Just leave it," he whispered, leaning forward so that his mouth practically skimmed her ear.
Dylan shivered, feeling his lips brushing close to her skin. "Why would I?" she responded.
His skin was so close that she could feel his warmth. If Grisa saw this—it would be really bad.
"Dylan," he muttered in a dangerously deep voice, "do I make you nervous?"
"No," she shrugged it off, ignoring the heat all over her flustered face. "You don't, Your Highness."
She stepped forward and turned to face him, creating distance between them.
The Prince cocked his head to the side with an innocent grin. "Why are you backing away?"
"What do you want, Your Highness? Why are you—"
"You," he answered quickly, silver eyes blazing with fire. "I want you, Lady Dylan."
Dylan's eyes widened as the thought shuddered through her. Caspian, who was supposed to be entirely smitten with Grisa, was stepping towards her with a sly grin.
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