CHAPTER 56: CHAPTER : 56 : THRISTLE CHUGH!

The moonlight filtered through the curtains, soft silver glow bathing the chamber. Aiden leaned lazily against the headboard, his shirt undone, while Luna clung to him like she always did—childish, jealous, and utterly unwilling to let him go.

"Master..." she whispered, her voice dripping with need as she pressed her forehead to his chest. Her fingers fumbled with the last button of his shirt. "Tonight, you’re mine. Just mine. No one else."

Aiden smirked, brushing a strand of hair from her cheek. "You’re awfully possessive tonight."

Her blue eyes glistened, not with tears this time, but with stubborn resolve. "You made me cry earlier... with her. Now you have to make it up to me. Twice. No... thrice!"

He chuckled, his deep voice vibrating against her cheek. "That greedy, huh?"

"Yes!" she snapped, only to immediately soften when his lips brushed the top of her head. "Greedy for you..." she added in a whisper.

Her small hands tugged at his shirt until it slipped from his shoulders. She gasped softly at the sight of his chest, her cheeks pinking as though she hadn’t seen him before—despite their two previous nights together. That was Luna: endlessly dramatic, endlessly expressive, endlessly his.

Aiden tipped her chin up and kissed her, slow at first, then deeper. She melted instantly, pressing closer, her lips clumsy but eager, her little whimper muffled against his mouth. His hand slid down her back, feeling the soft curve of her waist through the thin fabric of her nightdress.

"Mmm..." she moaned softly, shivering under his touch. "Master... don’t tease me."

"I thought you liked it when I teased you," he murmured, his lips trailing from her mouth to her jaw, down to the delicate skin of her neck.

Her breath hitched, her nails scratching lightly at his chest as she squirmed. "N-no... not when I want you so badly..."

He smirked against her skin, kissing and nipping at her neck, savoring the way she gasped and clung to him tighter. Her nightdress slipped from one shoulder, revealing pale, smooth skin. He kissed there too, leaving her trembling.

Her voice broke in a needy whine. "Master... please..."

"Please what?" he asked, feigning ignorance, enjoying her helpless begging.

Her face turned scarlet, her lips trembling. "...Please... take me..."

His hands found the ribbon at her waist, slowly untying it. She shivered, burying her face in his chest as the fabric loosened, revealing more of her soft, delicate body.

He kissed her again, swallowing her gasp, his hands roaming—slow, deliberate, claiming. Her moans grew louder, breathy and desperate, until she had to pull back just to breathe.

"You’re mine tonight, Luna," he murmured against her ear.

"Yes..." she whispered, eyes half-lidded with desire. "Only yours... all night...!"

The world outside faded as their night together began in earnest.

---

The Chugh Kingdom

The throne room reeked of arrogance and bloodlust. Torches lined the walls, their flames flickering against banners dyed in red and black.

At the center, the king sat upon his iron seat—a hulking hobgoblin with a crooked crown, his tusks yellowed, his scarred lips curling into a sneer. He stank of greed, of decay hidden under gold and velvet.

Before him, a general clad in polished steel armor bowed deeply. His voice was steady, but his words dripped with overconfidence.

"My lord, we now have twenty orcs bound to our command and twenty thousand soldiers ready for march. Twice what Grimclaw can field. Victory is certain."

The king’s crooked grin widened, his jagged teeth glinting in the firelight. "Good. Then everything proceeds as planned. That human and goblins will fall. And the Grimclaws..." He chuckled darkly. "...they’ll crawl to me on their knees."

"Yes, my king," the general barked before leaving with heavy steps.

The silence didn’t last long.

"Father!"

The voice of his son broke the air like a rusty blade scraping stone. Kin—prince of Chugh, heir to idiocy, hatred made flesh—strode forward in his luxurious clothes that did nothing to hide his hunched posture and twisted grin.

"Father," he repeated, his words bubbling with malice. "After we win... after the kingdom falls... I will kill that filthy human. The one who dared to take Lysandra. She will be mine. No one else’s."

The king chuckled, his laughter like gravel. "Do not fret, my son. You’ll have your Lysandra. That human boy is nothing against our might."

Kin’s grin widened stupidly, his fangs poking out at odd angles. "Thank you, Father... he’ll die screaming."

The king leaned forward, his eyes narrowing with greed. "Tonight, Kin... we celebrate. Our victory is already written in stone. Banquet, drink, and revelry."

Kin replied, equally excited. "Yes, Father."

"Tell your sister," the king ordered.

At that, Kin’s expression soured. His jaw twitched, his lip curling. "...Why must I? She’s useless. Always siding with those stinking goblins. Always mocking me."

"Because," the king said coldly, "she must hear it from you. And remind her that Lysandra will be her sister-in-law soon."

Kin chuckled, his eyes glowing, "Absolutely father." He said, understanding what his father meant.

He stormed out, his thoughts a whirlwind of venom. ’That bitch... always acting better than me. Always speaking down. If she weren’t my sister, I’d...’

His fists clenched. His lips twisted. "Lysandra will be mine," he growled under his breath. "And that human will rot."

---

Kin arrived at a modestly carved wooden door, knocking sharply. "Thistle!"

A gentle, teasing voice floated from within. "Coming, moron."

His jaw clenched. His eyes burned.

The door opened, and light spilled across the hall.

There she stood: Thistle, princess of Chugh.

Her long violet hair shimmered like silk, cascading down her back with playful waves. Her eyes, a deep amethyst, sparkled. Pale green skin glowed softly under the lantern light, smooth and unblemished. Her figure was modest yet undeniably alluring—rounded hips, a slender waist, and breasts that pressed against her bodice just enough to tease the eye. Her lips curved naturally into a smirk that was equal parts innocent and dangerous.

She looked nothing like her brother. Nothing like her father. She was a jewel in a nest of filth.

Kin’s growl escaped before he could stop it.

"We’re having a feast tonight," he spat. "A celebration of victory. And soon—Lysandra will be your sister-in-law." His grin was twisted, ugly, desperate.

Thistle’s eyes half-lidded, her lips curling into a sigh. "You really are pathetic, aren’t you? Lyse doesn’t want you. She already has someone she loves."

Kin’s face went red, his veins bulging with rage. "Bitch! That human will die, and she will be mine!"

Her smirk deepened. "Keep dreaming." And with that, she shut the door in his face.

---

Inside her chambers, Thistle glided toward her desk.

A letter rested neatly atop it, folded with care. Her lips curved into a softer smile as she sat dpwn on her chair and picked it up and unfolded it, her delicate fingers tracing the familiar handwriting.

---

Dear Thistle,

I hope this letter reaches you in good health. And more importantly, I hope that neither your Father’s endless lectures nor your dear brother’s ridiculous antics have worn you down yet. I can only imagine how many times you’ve rolled your eyes by now. Truly, you must be a saint to put up with them both.

Now—onto the real reason I’m writing to you. I am almost too shy to put it in ink, but if I don’t tell you, who else could I confide in? You’ve always been my closest friend, as much as my sibling.

I... I got married. To him. Yes, the one I’ve written to you about before—Sir Aiden.

It happened sooner than I expected, and I still feel my heart flutter every time I recall it. He kissed me—no, truly kissed me—and in that moment, I felt as though the world itself could have collapsed and I would not have cared. That kiss sealed more than just affection; it sealed a bond I can scarcely put into words.

And Thistle... yesterday evening , he took me completely. (You know what I mean—I can hardly bring myself to write it openly without turning red all over.) I gave him my first, my everything, and though I trembled, I felt utterly safe in his arms. I can still feel his warmth, his strength, his tenderness... as though I belong nowhere else but with him.

I am hopelessly, irreversibly in love with him.

There is something you must also know—Sir Aiden is not mine alone. He has another wife, Luna. I believe I have told you about her in my previous letters. She is... well, how do I put this? Childish, in the most infuriatingly adorable way possible. She clings to him like a spoiled kitten, crying for his attention, demanding his affection. And yet, despite her antics, I cannot bring myself to despise her. In truth, she loves him with all her being—just as I do.

It is strange, Thistle. I once thought I would be jealous beyond words, but instead, I find myself... sharing in that love. It makes me laugh at times, to think of how possessive we both are, and yet how we somehow fit together around him, as though this was meant to be.

Do not mistake me, though—I still glare at her whenever she takes his arm for too long. (You know me, I am far from saintly when it comes to sharing.)

But I am happy. Truly, I am. Happier than I ever believed possible.

Please, write to me when you can. I long to know how you are faring. And do forgive me if I sound like a love-struck fool—I suppose that is exactly what I am now.

With all my heart,

Lysandra

---

Thistle’s eyes softened as she read, though a mischievous spark quickly returned.

"My dear Lyse..." she whispered. "So hopelessly in love. You’ve given yourself completely to him..."

Her lips curved into a sly grin, her cheeks tinged pink as she rested her chin on her hands. "Sir Aiden, huh? The man who stole her breath... who made my icy friend write like this..."

Her violet eyes gleamed.

"I think I’d like to meet you. The man who conquered her heart..." Her smirk widened. "...and maybe I’ll let you try to conquer mine too."

The candlelight flickered, catching the sparkle in her gaze.

Mischief. Desire. Curiosity.

Thistle was nothing like her family. And she had just set her eyes on Aiden.

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END OF Chapter : 56 : THRISTLE CHUGH!

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A/N: Power stones, if you’re enjoying this novel. Also, this book is going to premium soon.

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