The Dragon King's Substitute Bride

Chapter 32

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Morgan

Panic surged through me as I clawed at the unseen assailant, gasping for breath.

"Wha..." I croaked, the sound strangled in my throat. I fumbled for my sword, but the arm tightened around my throat. The scent of leather and something metallic filled my nostrils, a sickening cocktail that did little to alleviate the terror gripping me.

I jammed my elbow back, trying to get free before my vision started to go blurry. The angle was wrong for my sword. I slammed my head back but the assailant avoided it.

I clawed at the arm. The man tightened his hold, the world blurring at the edges as darkness threatened to claim me. I jumped, trying to throw him off balance as he dragged me away from the portal and down the hallway, but it was no good. I had no purchase, and the guy was huge, lifting me off my feet with ease. The last thing I registered before succumbing to unconsciousness was the shimmering distressed air that shifted around me like a warning from the palace before. everything was swallowed by the suffocating darkness. Tsuneo

Relief, a sweet and unfamiliar sensation, washed over me as the heavy oak doors of the library clicked shut behind Morgan. The air, thick with tension moments ago, felt lighter, almost breathable again. Watching her leave had filled me with a curious mix of emotions - pride, a possessiveness that surprised even me, and a deep sense of gratitude. She had stayed with me without judgment, willingly and compassionate to my plight.

It felt as though everything about her was drawing me in more and more by the day. With a sigh, I pushed myself to my feet, the dull ache in my shoulder felt lesser. I pressed on it, finding the

wounds closed and smiled.

She really was the one, wasn't she?

a jolt of surprise ran through me. The darkness that had marred my skin for so long were

a feeling that had nothing to do with the steam rising from the bathwater. The memory of her touch, the concern in her eyes when she had cleaned my wounds...

rumbled deep within me, a sound that resonated

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usually dormant except when the poison threatened to

taking over again, or was he just waking up in response to my

her eyes sparked

define, clawed its way to the

heat

my arm, a testament to

bloomed in my chest, a feeling that had nothing to do with the

the memory wash over me. Perhaps, I mused, the exhaustion of the past few days was finally catching

back of my mind refused to agree with that. The weakness still lingered. The poison wasn't fully eradicated. Usually, as the poison waned, it would drag me under into a fitful sleep plagued by nightmares. My muscles would tense, my breath would hitch, and the world would dissolve into a horrifying kaleidoscope of pain and distortion. But last night had been peaceful. The prickle of unease morphed into a strange anticipation. My heartbeat quickened, not from fear but from a different kind of urgency. I closed my eyes tighter, willing the familiar dread to engulf me. But instead, a new image flickered behind my eyelids. The image of Morgan bathed in the soft glow of candlelight, her hair damp. She wore a simple white slip, clinging to the curves of her body in a way that sent a jolt of heat through me. A smile played on her lips, a mischievous glint in her eyes. In my mind's eye, the bathroom door creaked open and

here," she murmured, her voice a soft

laugh, she shed her nightgown, revealing the soft curves of her body. My breath hitched in my throat. In my fantasy, I reached out, my fingers brushing against her warm skin. She leaned into my touch, a shiver

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