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Twisted Desires

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Chapter 11: A Test of Willpower

The moment Virendra walked away, the tension in the room broke.

The court erupted into murmurs, the sound growing louder as Udayveer stepped forward, his face clouded with concern.

"Your Highness," he began, his voice gentle. "Are you—"

"I’m fine," I cut him off, my voice sharper than intended.

But I wasn’t fine.

Not even close.

..........................

The palace corridors blurred as I rushed back to my chambers, my chest heaving with every step.

The door slammed shut behind me, and I leaned against it, finally letting the tears fall.

Why?

Why did his touch still linger on my skin? Why did his kiss burn in my mind?

Why did my heart betray me, pounding at the thought of him even as my soul screamed to forget?

"You’ll never let another Alpha touch you the way I have."

His words echoed, slicing through my resolve.

He was wrong.

He had to be.

But the trembling in my hands told me otherwise.

I curled up on the edge of my bed, clutching my knees to my chest.

This wasn’t just a battle of power anymore.

It was war.

And I was losing.

......................

Elsewhere in the palace, Virendra stood alone on a balcony, his hands gripping the stone railing.

His cheek still stung from the slap, but that wasn’t what consumed him.

It was Jayant’s fire.

The way the Omega had pushed back, defied him, slapped him in front of everyone.

And yet, all Virendra could think about was the feel of his lips.

The taste of him.

He exhaled sharply, dragging a hand through his hair.

This wasn’t supposed to happen.

He had come here for revenge. For justice.

Not to fall into this twisted, maddening obsession.

But it was too late.

Jayant was under his skin, in his veins.

And now, he would stop at nothing to break him.

......................

By the time the sun rose, Virendra’s plan was already in motion.

He wouldn’t confront Jayant directly—not yet.

Not when the Omega was still reeling from the kiss.

No, he would use the court, the suitors, the games.

He would twist them all to his advantage.

Because if Jayant wanted to fight, he would give him a war so devastating, so consuming, that the Omega would have no choice but to come to him.

......................

The tension in the palace had grown thicker with each passing hour, whispers of the previous day’s events rippling through the court.

But I refused to be cowed.

Virendra thought he could intimidate me.

He thought he could break me.

He was wrong.

......................

The court gathered in the grand hall for the next day’s council, where suitors presented their proposals for alliances, trade, and marriage.

I sat on the throne, my posture regal, my gaze cold.

Udayveer stood by my side, an ever-present reminder of my defiance.

And then Virendra walked in.

His presence commanded the room instantly.

Dressed in black and gold, his armor gleamed under the light, the wolf emblem on his chestplate a stark reminder of the Alpha who had dominated countless battlefields.

But it was his gaze—sharp, unwavering, and locked on me—that sent a chill down my spine.

He offered a bow, his voice smooth. "Your Highness, I have a proposal for the council."

I stiffened.

Of course he did.

He strode to the center of the room, standing tall as he addressed the court.

"My men and I have spent the last month defending the northern borders of this kingdom," he began. "In doing so, we have ensured the safety of Mahabalesh from neighboring threats."

Murmurs of approval swept through the court.

I gritted my teeth.

He continued, "However, the price of loyalty is high. My forces require resources—supplies that only the royal family can provide."

My fingers tightened on the armrest of my throne.

"What exactly are you asking for, Virendra?" I demanded, my voice cool.

His eyes met mine, and I saw the faintest smirk tug at the corners of his lips.

"A royal decree," he said smoothly. "Granting me authority to oversee the security of the suitor ceremonies—and the power to dismiss anyone who poses a threat."

The court erupted into whispers again.

I froze.

He had backed me into a corner, and we both knew it.

I forced a calm expression, though my heart raced.

"And who would determine what constitutes a threat?" I asked, narrowing my eyes.

He inclined his head, his tone respectful but laced with arrogance.

"I would, Your Highness. As someone with your best interests at heart."

My nails dug into the wood of the throne.

This wasn’t about security.

This was about control.

About forcing me to acknowledge him—to depend on him.

I couldn’t let him win.

But refusing him outright would create doubt in the court.

My mind raced, searching for a way out, even as Virendra’s gaze bore into me, daring me to defy him.

Before I could speak, Udayveer stepped forward.

"Your Highness," he said, his voice steady, "granting such authority to an outsider, even one as skilled as Virendra, would be unwise. The council should appoint someone neutral to oversee the ceremonies."

The tension in the room shifted.

Some members of the court nodded in agreement, while others glanced at Virendra, wary of challenging him.

Virendra’s smirk faltered, his gaze flickering to Udayveer.

For the first time, I saw a crack in his confidence.

It was small, but it was there.

I seized the moment.

"Lord Udayveer raises a valid point," I said, my voice firm. "While we appreciate your efforts, Virendra, the security of the ceremonies must remain unbiased."

Virendra’s jaw tightened, but he bowed his head.

"As you wish, Your Highness," he said, his tone respectful.

But as he straightened, his eyes met mine again, and I knew this wasn’t over.

Not by a long shot.

......................

Later that evening, as I walked through the palace gardens, I felt his presence before I saw him.

The familiar scent—rich and dominant—wrapped around me like a chain.

I turned, and there he was, standing in the shadows, his arms crossed.

"You think this changes anything?" he asked, his voice low.

I clenched my fists. "I think it reminds you that you don’t own me."

He stepped closer, his gaze dark and unreadable.

"You’re right," he said softly. "I don’t."