Chapter 267 Chapter 266
She’d never thought he was capable of making such expressions. Clearly she’d thought wrong. He caught her looking at him once, and this time walked up to her, holding two cups, the scent of fermented fruit rising from them.
Her spine straightened, her cheeks already burning up. Standing in front of her, he stretched out a cup and she accepted it, muttering her thanks. He gave a curt nod.
“Aren’t you joining in the festivities?” he asked, standing by her side. Soraya adjusted her stance. “Oh, I’m fine with just watching. The sight is rather fascinating. Everyone seems really happy that the king is back.”
“The happiest still has to be Rayena. She’s the one who fought the hardest and prayed for this to happen.”
Soraya smiled, sipping her drink. The liquid burned pleasantly down her throat. “That's true. But, you were also pretty loyal yourself. To think you refused to kill the king after he turned feral and became a threat to himself and the ones he loved.”
She glanced at him and found he was deep in thought, thumb playing around the rim of his cup “I… I just couldn’t bring myself to. It didn’t feel right,” he murmured, staring at his cup, his hold on it tightening.
He chuckled, but it had no mirth. “Silly me would have kept him that way forever. That’s how much I couldn’t bear to let go.”
Soraya's breath caught in her chest.
Such devotion. It was one of those qualities that had endeared her to him, among other things. He caught her staring again and furrowed his brows. “Why are you staring at me like that?”
“Oh, nothing…” She quickly cleared her throat, looking away. She felt his gaze on her, and she tried to pretend by taking a swig of the alcohol in the cup.
“Is there something you want to tell me?” he started slowly, moving even closer. She could feel the heat emanating from his body, and she shuddered, the words stuck in her throat.
“No…” she started but changed her mind. “Actually, I wanted to ask. Do you like me?”
Morvan choked on his drink, coughing slightly. “Sorry…” He groaned, trying to catch his breath. “Sorry…” he murmured, his face flushed pink.
Catching his breath, he glanced at her, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “I believe I should be the one asking you that question.”
“Why should you be?”
“Because you admitted you liked me first. During your heat—our first time together?”
Soraya’s face grew inflamed. “I-I did say that,” she stuttered in a rush. “But it was a slip of tongue, and if you didn’t, you would have given me a response by now.” Her voice was firmer this time. “Do you like me, General Morvan?”
His expression turned somber, and he faced her squarely, staring pointedly at her.
“I do, sincerely,” he divulged softly.
Soraya’s heart skipped multiple beats, a warm feeling spreading in her chest.
“I don’t know why, but for the longest time, I have been interested in you. I just never thought to make the first move.”
“Why?” Soraya whispered, her curiosity piqued.
“Well, that is obvious if you ask me.” He looked away from her as he took a swig from his cup, draining the contents. “You’re a werewolf and I, a weretiger. Such unions are banned.”
A sharp pin lodged itself in her chest, killing any warm feeling she might have had. She knew this. Oh, she knew it well.
Her hands trembled, but thankfully, her voice was steady. “But… what if things change in the future? What if, despite our differences, we could still be together?”
She heard more than saw him sigh. “To be honest, I don’t see it changing anytime soon.”
Soraya turned to look at him. He was staring far ahead. “Why?”
A muscle ticked in his neck. Cold dread began to pool in her belly at what he might say.
“Take now for example. We, the weretigers, are hiding because your kind keeps hunting us down and killing us." He started slowly, but his voice grew sharper as he went on, anger flickering in his eyes. "The ones that are trapped in the capital are going through unspeakable torture—used as slaves, harlots, and treated as lesser. The famine has been a great equalizer for both clans, but we’re still the ones suffering more deaths and killings. All because our ancestors in the past couldn’t accept that a werewolf and a weretiger can be mates, and because of that, the king has had to live a hard life until now.”
The more he spoke, the more tears filled Soraya’s eyes. Every word was like a spike to her chest, reminding her how hopeless their situation was. She’d already gotten the response she’d always dreamed of from him, but at what cost?
If Morvan noticed she was holding back tears, he didn’t let on. “I’m not saying all this to put you down. I know you’re different, and I’m holding out hope that things will change so we can have a chance and I can court you properly. But until that happens, we might have to be respectful towards each other.”
Soraya blinked back the tears in her eyes, but some managed to slip away, rolling down her cheek. She quickly wiped it off.
“I understand." She muttered in a shaky voice, needing to be anywhere but here. "Thank you for explaining this to me. If you’ll excuse me, I will be taking my leave now.”
“Soraya, wait…!” he called out, but she’d already whirled around, sprinting away, footsteps echoing sharply as she fled the hall.
He could only watch her go, too torn to follow.
He immediately regretted his words, but he couldn’t take them back anymore.
Soraya reached her room, threw herself onto her cot, and curled into a ball.
The tears came fast and she let them fall.
Hard, hot. Painful.
She sobbed all through the night.