Chapter 166

Magnus Hale

His eyes fill with tears. The sight of it rips me apart, but the anger still boils.

"No… I didn’t betray you, Magnus. I swear to you."

His hands sink into his own hair, pulling at the strands in a rush, his nails digging into his scalp—pure, explicit despair.

"Fuck… shit…" The words come out short and aimless. "If I had known you were nearby, I would have ended that son of a bitch. He came over to talk shit again; I thought it was just a provocation, that the guy had no love for his own life." He gasps, breathing in. "That’s the only reason I tilted my head. I didn’t betray you, Magnus."

He approaches me, stumbling slightly, his breath short. He tries to grab my hand, fingers trembling, and I pull away. The movement makes him whimper softly.

"Please…" he drags out the word, his voice broken. "My love, I’m begging you. I didn’t do anything. I didn’t betray you."

His eyes are wet, the words coming out in a rush. He holds his own face with his palms as if trying to contain the despair and then reaches for my hand again, pleading.

I stand still, feeling the conflict squeeze my chest. His emotion cuts deeper than the rage that dominated me a moment ago. Still, I don't move closer.

I can't say anything. The lump in my throat is too big. I just walk past him with quick steps, ignoring the sound of my name being called behind me.

I return to the cell with my breathing out of sync, trying to tame the anger that still burns inside my chest. I run my hand through my hair, squeezing the back of my neck.

What the hell was that?

I’ve never seen him so desperate like that. And yet… I can't fully believe it. Insecurity pulses strong, as if it were trying to swallow me from the inside.

I take a deep breath and let the air out slowly, trying to calm down.

It’s useless.

Suddenly, I hear footsteps behind me. Firm, slow footsteps… and the smell of blood invades the cell even before I turn around.

I look over my shoulder, and the scene paralyzes me. Adrian is covered in blood. His uniform is stained, his hands are red, and his face… a mix of relief and madness. He smiles, but it’s a tense smile, almost shaky.

"See, love?" His voice comes out hoarse. "I didn’t kiss him… I killed him. I killed him out of rage for making you doubt me."

I stay motionless.

"If I cared about that worm, I wouldn't have killed him," he continues, breathing fast. "I thought about bringing you his heart… but I thought it might scare you."

The silence between us is heavy, suffocating. He takes a step forward, eyes glistening, his smile wavering.

"Please, love… Trust me. I didn’t betray you. Never. I will never betray you."

I bite my lip, my stomach turning.

"And how can you prove that to me?"

Adrian hesitates. A tremor passes through his shoulders before he takes another step forward, his voice thick, almost a whisper.

"I’ll do anything, Magnus." The plea is in his voice. "Anything to make you believe me. If you want… I’ll let you be the top now."

He takes a deep breath, eyes locked onto mine.

"If that’s what it takes to prove my innocence, I’ll let you be in control. I’m giving you back your throne." He takes one more step, his voice failing. "Please… let me prove that I am yours."

"Me be the top?" I repeat, letting out a dry, humorless laugh. "When you can't even get hard?"

He stares at me in silence for a moment, his gaze steady, and then he begins to strip off the blood-stained uniform, piece by piece, until he is completely naked. My gaze drops involuntarily, and the air seems to vanish from the room.

He is rock hard, pulsing.

"I will always be hard for you, Magnus." He speaks softly, his voice hoarse, sincere in an almost disturbing way. "I don't care if I'm on top or on the bottom. It's you. Only you have the power to control my body."

And I see it in his eyes: it’s not a provocation, it’s not manipulation. He is serious.

He is willing to be the submissive one, to surrender totally, just to prove he didn't betray me.

I clench my jaw, trying to contain the mixture of rage, desire, and disbelief washing over me.

I point to the bed, my voice firm.

"Lie down."

He obeys immediately, without questioning, his body moving fast, lying on the bed with a fixed, surrendered gaze.

I take off my uniform piece by piece, devouring every reaction in his eyes. When nothing remains of me but exposed skin, I approach the bed, climb over his body, and stare at him seriously.

"Don't you dare touch me, and don't you dare come without my permission," my voice comes out low, firm, almost a command. "Do you understand me, Adrian?"

He nods, but the gesture isn't enough for me. The slap cracks through the air; the impact turns his head to the side, surprise written all over his face.

"Answer with words, Adrian."

He takes a deep breath, his voice hoarse and submissive.

"Yes, love… I understand."

I kiss his stomach slowly and move down gradually toward his length. I grip him hard; instead of pain, he lets out a groan of pleasure. It made me roll my eyes.

This boy finds pleasure in everything, holy shit.

Without further delay, I run my tongue over the head of it, sliding down, already tasting the pre-cum. I swallow all of his hardness, sucking hard, making him groan loudly without a care. I rest my hands on his thighs and begin to move my head back and forth.

I look up and find Adrian with his eyelids closed, his body arching against the mattress. He grips the sheet so hard his fingers have turned white, as if that were the only thread keeping him tied to reality.

I force my mouth to go even deeper, gagging in the process. But I stay firm, swallowing all of his rigidity. He whimpers, his voice broken by pleasure, unable to contain himself.

His cock pulses strongly in my throat. His taste is far too savory, addictive in a way that drives me crazy. I pull my mouth away, seeing how drenched his length is; I hold him tight and begin to jerk him off.

"Love… I can't take it. It’s so good," he pants, his face contorted as if the pleasure were too strong to bear.

I raise my hand to the level of his face.

"Suck," I order, forcing my fingers against his mouth.

He tries to grab my wrist, but a deep, hoarse sound escapes me, stopping the movement.

"Don't fucking touch me."

His eyes water, his body trembles, and he obeys, whimpering with my fingers between his lips, surrendered to the command.

He begins to suck them in a slow, provocative, obscene way. Every movement of his tongue is calculated, as if he wanted to drive me even crazier. The worst part—or the best—is that my hand is still stained with blood, but Adrian doesn't show the slightest discomfort.