Free Web NovelChapter 20: Slitting the Prince of Lust’s Throat
Nathan/Seraphel
My heart had never pounded with such frantic, violent intensity as it did the exact second our eyes locked. This was nothing like our first encounter during his sudden rut; back then, his gaze had been clouded by mindless, sexual instinct.
Now, his stare was taut, sharp, and entirely deliberate—it felt as though he were physically consuming my entire being with the sheer weight of his crimson eyes.
"Leave. Immediately," Azriel commanded.
The words were soft-spoken, yet they carried a heavy, absolute authority that no living soul would dare dream of disobeying. The servants didn’t even hesitate; they swiftly snatched the jade tray table from in front of me and practically fled the room, the heavy doors sliding shut behind them with a muffled click.
I began clenching my fists tightly, the silver prongs of the stolen fork digging sharply into my palm. I knew he was probably trying to read my thoughts by now. It was only when I felt the slight, warm sting of the metal pressing into my skin that I felt assured.
Also, the physical pain kept my mind focused, allowing me to mask my true intentions behind a wall of pure panic.
He was finally here, and the plan was unfolding exactly as I had spent the last hour imagining. All that was left to do was plunge the fork straight into his throat, rid the universe of him, and break out of this nightmare novel for good. freēwēbnovel.com
But the moment he started moving toward me, a hard lump formed in my throat. I visibly gulped, panicked, and scrambled to my feet in a desperate rush.
Naturally, my treacherous, uncoordinated legs tangled in the multi-layered silver robes, and I instantly tripped, hurtling forward toward the hard stone floor.
I braced for impact, but before I could fall flat on my face, a pair of impossibly strong, muscular arms caught me in a seamless blur, wrapping gently around my waist and pulling my fragile frame securely against a broad chest.
"Careful now," Azriel murmured, his voice carrying a dangerous mix of stern reprimand and dark, sultry amusement. "You are carrying a divine child. We wouldn’t want you getting hurt so soon, would we? If you suffer harm, the baby won’t survive the night , so mind how you walk from now on."
My eyes widened as the heat of his body pressed entirely against mine. Being held flush against his chest made my pulse race so violently I was completely certain he could hear the frantic rhythm echoing through my ribs.
The man was a walking, breathing sex god.
A single, fleeting touch from him was enough to send a sickeningly sweet wave of pleasure straight to my lower abdomen, making my hole twitch with embarrassing, instinctual wetness.
Maybe it was just the pathetic biology of this omega body, or maybe it was because I now carried his mark and all I knew was that his proximity made my blood run entirely hot, and my cock was hardening to a painful degree with every passing second he held me.
"Strange. I cannot hear a single one of your thoughts... and yet, I can smell the intensity of your arousal," Azriel muttered, his lips brushing against my ear. He leaned in further, nibbling on the sensitive cartilage and biting down with just enough soft pressure to make a low, helpless moan slip past my lips.
I bit my tongue, thoroughly hating myself for the sound. "Do you truly have absolutely no thoughts to share with me, sweet lotus?"
I do, I wanted to scream at him. I have plenty of thoughts about you, but if you hear them, it ruins my entire murder plot.
I needed to focus, to get the hell out of here, and not let this overwhelming physical temptation consume me.
Faking a shaky, breathless gasp, I pushed slightly against his chest. "Your Highness... What exactly are you doing here? Why are you in my private chambers?"
Azriel let out a dark, low chuckle. A smooth, predatory sound that lacked any artificial sweetness, completely fitting a creature who devoured lesser beings for fun.
In one fluid, terrifying movement, he spun me around, his large hand gripping my tiny waist with bruising force as he easily hoisted one of my legs, hooking it securely around his hip.
"You still don’t realize your position, do you, dear omega?" He leaned down, his hot breath fanning across the sensitive skin of my throat before his lips pressed firmly against the mating mark, which glow with a brilliant, blinding heat the second his face drew near. "Oh, my sweet lotus. You smell absolutely intoxicating. Even better than the night of the rut."
I muffled another pathetic moan, clenching my teeth so hard my jaw ached to keep from rolling my head backward in pure ecstasy. The man hadn’t even properly touched me yet, and I was already getting wetter by the second. Worse, he hadn’t even released a single drop of his own dominant pheromones.
Could a mating mark really dictate an entire body’s autonomy like this? I vaguely recalled Author Nude mentioning in a random Chapter comment that bearing the mark of a Supreme Alpha would keep any omega in a permanent state of heat-adjacent compliance—and unfortunately, I was currently bearing the mark of the literal embodiment of Lust.
Come to your senses, Nathan! I screamed at myself internally. You have to leave this story. There is no way you survive the later arcs if you stay here. Azriel is a ruthless, unhinged monster. He doesn’t give a single damn about anyone but himself.
"You know what is truly bizarre, Seraphel?" Azriel’s velvety voice cut through my frantic internal panic, bringing my focus back to his lips hovering mere inches from my skin. "Ever since the rut concluded that night, I haven’t been able to purge you from my mind. All I can think about is how badly I want to take you again. To bend you over right here, bury my cock completely inside of you, and make you feel the absolute weight of it deep in your stomach."
His explicit, dirty words sent a violent, heavy tremor straight down my thighs. I couldn’t help but curl my toes against the floor as a massive wave of raw pleasure rushed through my groin.
This was completely insane.
Just a second ago, I was actively planning to slit his throat, but his voice and the excruciatingly soft touch of his lips against my neck were completely scrambling my brain. It made me genuinely wonder, for a terrifying second, if I even wanted to leave this book at all.
"Tell me... did you enjoy that night, Seraphel?" he asked gently, his thumb tracing a slow circle over my hip.
I didn’t even know how I was supposed to answer that. I clenched my hidden fist even harder, my thoughts going into a wild, defensive spiral.
Even though the memories of that night were a chaotic blur, it wasn’t supposed to be some romantic, pleasurable experience. it had been a brutal, relentless ordeal meant to satisfy a crazed Alpha who had pounded inside of me without a single shred of mercy.
And honestly? The arrogant bastard deserved to hear it. Since I was going to assassinate him and leave this novel anyway, it was only proper that I shattered his massive ego first.
"No," I began slowly, my voice dripping with cold, disdain as I looked him dead in the eye. "Actually, that night completely sucked."
"Sucked?"
Azriel paused, the amused smirk instantly vanishing from his lips. He let go of my wrist, his fingers shifting up to grip my chin, forcing my head back until my gaze was completely locked with his crimson eyes. The deep red pool of his irises instantly shifted, turning a dark, bloody, cavernous shade that sent a genuine thrill of terror straight down my spine.
It was a look of pure, dangerous friction. He was visibly pissed off.
Then, without warning, Azriel burst into laughter.
It was a loud, unhinged, manic laugh that echoed violently off the polished walls of the room.
I stared at him in absolute bewilderment, completely thrown off by the sudden, terrifying shift in his demeanor. This reaction was nowhere in the original story. This wasn’t how Author Nude wrote him.
"You know, mortal... this is the absolute first time in my entire existence that anyone has ever dared to tell me my sex sucks," he murmured, the manic laughter dying down into a dark, twisted grin. He raised his hand, cupping my left cheek with a deceptive gentleness. "Perhaps I was a bit too rough during the madness of my rut. But tonight? Tonight, I am going to show you exactly why the entire universe calls me the Prince of Lust."
He chuckled lightly, and in the blink of an eye, the world spun.
My back slammed hard against the plush mattress of the bed. It happened in a seamless, terrifying flash of motion, and before I could even gasp for air, I felt his heavy weight pinning me down, his large hands aggressively spreading my legs apart.
It was happening too fast. The overwhelming aura of his lust was suffocating, and I could feel myself slipping into the temptation, completely forgetting what I was here to do.
Wake up, Nathan! This isn’t your reality! I know you like reading trashy smut, but you need to go home right now! I repeated the mantra over and over in my head like a prayer, actively struggling against the iron grip of Azriel’s hands locking my body to the mattress.
"I am going to teach you what real desire feels like..." Azriel’s soft, distracting voice broke through my thoughts, but I refused to let it paralyze me this time.
Steeling my nerves, I slipped my hand beneath the folds of my silver robe, my fingers instantly locking around the cold, heavy handle of the silver fork. I slowly raised my arm beneath the wide sleeve, letting out a sharp, final breath as my grip tightened around the makeshift weapon.
This is just a fictional novel, Nathan. You have to slash it hard against his throat in one clean motion. You aren’t committing a real crime. Just get it over with.
With those final words, I raised my hand, my eyes meeting Azriel’s dark crimson gaze just as he leaned down to inhale the sweet lotus scent of my neck.
In one explosive, desperate motion, I drove the silver fork violently across his throat.
Azriel’s eyes instantly widened in absolute, staggering shock, his crimson irises locking onto mine in complete disbelief.
A choked, horrific gag left his lips as dark, hot blood violently splattered across my face and silver robes. There was a profound look of betrayal—or perhaps complete surprise on his flawless features as his heavy frame slowly lost its strength, collapsing sideways off the bed and crashing heavily onto the obsidian floor below.
Goodbye, Azriel, I thought, trembling violently as I pushed myself up from the blood-stained sheets and stood over his unmoving body.
