Chapter 22
Ashley
The tension hung thick in the air, and for a moment, I just stood there, watching the scene unfold. The girl with fiery red hair held Azura’s wrist like a vice, her expression a mix of determination and defiance but till her expression was . I felt a rush of relief wash over me. I wasn’t alone in this.
Azura’s anger twisted into confusion, then humiliation. I took a step back, unsure if I should feel grateful or cautious. Who was this girl? And why was she standing up for me?
“Let go of me!” Azura hissed, trying to free herself from the girl’s grip. But the girl didn’t budge, her eyes locked onto Azura with fierce intensity. “You think you can bully everyone here just because you wear a crown? This is King Zade’s mate you’re threatening,” she said, her voice steady.
I felt a thrill at those words—*King Zade’s mate. The title rolled off her tongue, carrying weight and power. But it also felt like a chain, binding me to him in ways I didn’t fully understand. My heart raced, torn between fear and something deeper that I couldn’t quite grasp.
“Who do you think you are?” Azura spat, her face contorted in rage. “You’re just a—”
“A friend,” the girl interrupted, a defiant smile breaking through her serious facade. “And I suggest you back off. You don’t want to make a scene, do you?”
I watched in awe as Azura’s fury faded, replaced by uncertainty. Finally, she yanked her arm free, her eyes darting between us. “This isn’t over,” she warned before storming away, her heels clicking sharply against the stone floor.
As soon as she was out of sight, I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding. The girl turned to me, her fiery hair catching the light. “Are you okay?” she asked, concern etched on her features.
“I… I think so,” I stammered, my heart still racing. “Thank you. I didn’t expect that.”
“I’m Ashina” she said, extending her hand. “I saw how she treated you. No one deserves that, especially not here.”
I shook her hand, feeling a spark of connection. “Ashley.”
“Nice to meet you, Ashley. You’re stronger than you think,” she said with a reassuring smile. “Don’t let people like her get to you.”
Her words wrapped around me like a warm blanket. I felt a flicker of hope, the kind I hadn’t felt in a long time. Maybe I didn’t have to face this alone.
“I just… I feel so trapped,” I admitted, the weight of my emotions spilling out. And I didn't understand why I was opening up to her so fast I barely even know her.
Ashina nodded, her expression softening. “He’s complicated. The king has a lot on his shoulders. But you have your own power, too. Don’t forget that.”
"Do not let people see's ur weakness Ashley" she added
“Thank you, Ashina I really appreciate it,” I said.
“Good,” she said, smiling warmly. “Just remember, you’re not alone. If you ever need someone to talk to, I’m here.” I admired Ashina. Her smile was so pretty, and even when she comforted Azura, her voice was calm and gentle. She never looked angry; her kindness shone through.
She had long red hair and soft lips, with warm brown eyes. She was a little curvy, with a nice figure that I admired. Her beauty was striking, and she carried herself with confidence.
As we walked together back toward the castle, my heart was heavy I felt mixed emotions I couldn't believe now i was his prisoner
But deep down, I knew it wouldn’t be easy. My heart still fluttered at the thought of him, and I couldn’t shake the confusion he brought into my life.
I kept tossing and turning in bed, feeling restless despite the comfort of the mattress beneath me. No matter how soft and inviting it was, my mind wouldn’t quiet down. I desperately wanted to sleep, but my thoughts kept spinning, refusing to let me find peace.
Finally, I gave up and decided to head downstairs for a drink, hoping it would help calm my nerves. I made my way to the kitchen and quietly opened the fridge, searching for something to help me relax. My eyes landed on a bottle of water. I grabbed it and took a long drink, the cool liquid soothing my parched throat.
I let out a deep breath, feeling a small sense of relief wash over me. The quiet of the night, combined with the darkness around me, made the kitchen feel almost safe—a place where, for a brief moment, I could escape my thoughts.
I stared at the door for a moment, a shiver running down my spine. I could sense a presence there. The kitchen light was still off, and in the dimness, I saw a tall, shadowy figure watching me from afar. My heart skipped several beats, fear gripping me. My legs felt like lead, and my hands began to tremble. I should have stayed in my room—what was I doing here in the middle of the night?
“Wh-Who is… there?” I stammered, my voice barely a whisper. The shadow didn’t move, just continued to watch me. It felt like I was being haunted by a ghost.
I forced myself to move slowly toward the light switch, my eyes never leaving the dark figure. It didn’t approach or make a sound, just stood there, looming and silent. My heart pounded in my ears as I finally reached the switch and flicked it on.
“King Zade,” I breathed, his name barely audible. Relief and shock mixed in my voice.
“I didn’t know you were this scared, Ashley,” he said, a hint of amusement in his tone. Embarrassment washed over me, my face flushing. Who wouldn’t be scared, seeing a tall figure lurking in the dark like that? I wanted to roll my eyes at him, but I stopped myself. This man was unpredictable, and I didn’t want to test his temper.
“What are you doing down here?” he asked, his eyes still on me, piercing and intense.
“I couldn’t sleep, and I was thirsty,” I replied, feeling his gaze linger. His eyes drifted lower, and I realized with a jolt of embarrassment that my nightgown had slipped down, revealing more of my breasts than I had intended. I quickly adjusted the fabric, my cheeks burning under his gaze.
He didn’t even bother to hide the way his eyes fixed on my boob's. The silence stretched between us, so I decided to break it. “Why did you do it?” I asked, my voice trembling with the weight of my pain. My chest felt tight, the sadness pressing down on me.
He raised his eyebrows, that familiar look of confusion—whether genuine or not—crossing his face. It was like he was pretending not to understand, pretending he didn’t know how much he was hurting me.
“I’m not your prisoner. Just let me go. I’m not your slave,” I said, my voice breaking as tears welled up in my eyes. I hated how easily I cried, hated showing him this side of me.
He remained silent, but his eyes darkened. Then, without a word, he began walking towards me. I took a step back, but he kept advancing, his gaze never leaving mine. I continued to move until my back hit the wall, my heart racing. I felt trapped.
He stopped just inches away, his face close to mine, a smirk curling his lips. I hated that look—the way it made me feel powerless and small. “You are my slave, Ashley,” he whispered, his voice cold “You have nowhere to go. And next time, don’t even think about leaving the gate. It’s guarded around the clock.”
His words sent a shiver down my spine. I felt his breath on my skin, and it took everything in me not to flinch. I clenched my fists, fighting back the tears. I wouldn’t cry in front of him again. I wouldn’t give him that satisfaction.