The Tyrant's Pet

When Abel said he would resurrect Joaquin from the dead just to kill him, he meant it literally. Death… was far too easy for an ending for someone like Joaquin. Abel wasn't trying to wash his hands clean. He had done worse than what Joaquin could commit in his entire life.

The only difference between Abel and Joaquin was that the former never denied everything he had done to anyone. Those who held grudges against him… he knew all of them and had given them all a chance to exact their vengeance.

Wasn't that the rule? Accept that a person's action would go back to them one way or another?

So why was Joaquin so pathetic?

Abel gazed at Joaquin, who was crawling on the ground after getting beaten mercilessly. The latter's bones and wounds were healing, but the pain he had inflicted remained. It hurt like hell and Abel knew that because he had experienced this hell more than he could ever count.

Experiencing pain and wishing to die but being unable to do so was akin to burning with eternal flames in hell. All you can do was scream, run around, roll on the ground, and inflict pain on yourself, but the fire would always be there.

"How pathetic," came out a crisp voice, looking down at this man who had wronged her. "I would've played with you longer… for at least a hundred years."

A shallow breath slipped past his lips. He woke up Joaquin just to blow off some steam, but it didn't quench his anger. He wanted more; he wanted to hurt him more, to make him scream, to see fear in his eyes, to understand even the slightest of Aries's pain.

The pain that haunted her even in the happiest seconds of her life.

"What should we do to the last thirty seconds of our time together?" he asked, resting his hand on his hips while watching Joaquin crawl away from him. "So boring… I can't believe I stopped thirty seconds earlier."

He shook his head lightly, letting out another sigh before he looked heavenward. The night was still silent, with Joaquin's grunting and panting fading in the night breeze. Abel closed his eyes and took a deep breath and then stretched his neck in a circular motion.

It was good he stopped early or he would've killed Joaquin. He couldn't revive him if he was already decapitated, after all.

Abel counted under his breath. "Ten… nine… eight…" opening his eyes upon reaching three, eyes falling on Joaquin's back.

"One."

As soon as that word slipped past Abel's lips, he marched towards Joaquin and grabbed him from the back. As if lifting a toy that weighed a feather, Abel tossed Joaquin directly back onto the balcony on the second floor of the castle. He then jumped towards it, landing on the railing while Joaquin was on the floor of the balcony, coughing out blood upon breaking his spine.

"Tch. That won't kill you. Stop being so dramatic." Abel clicked his tongue, kicking him in the side of his abdomen before walking over him, leaving him on the balcony while he marched inside the room. On his way inside, Abel took off his linen inner blouse and tossed it to the nearby armchair.

But instead of going straight to Aries, Abel halted and looked around at the lightless room. Smacking his lips, he leisurely approached the stand and picked up a match to light all the candelabras in the room.

Soon, the scent of lavender filled the chamber, staring at the lit candle for a moment in silence.

"The Maganti Empire… when do I get to erase you in the maps of the world?" he wondered under his breath, twisting his neck to look at the balcony. He planned to leave Joaquin outside the balcony where he could heal overnight, but Aries would panic; she would surely panic with just the thought of Abel inside her room, though.

"Whatever. He shouldn't pass out just yet."

Abel waved and walked back to the balcony. Standing by the door, he tilted his head, seeing Joaquin still gasping for air, looking at the night sky blankly.

"Come. We can't let you catch a cold," was the only words Joaquin heard before Abel dragged his feet inside the room. He only dragged Joaquin enough to close the door of the balcony before dropping his feet nonchalantly.

"Sleep there. Your wife will get worried." Abel flashed him a smile before pivoting on his heel, heading for the other door which led to her bathing area. He couldn't join Aries reeking of blood and sweat. Although she didn't mind in the past whenever Abel was stained with blood, he didn't want to cause her inconvenience by washing the dirt off of her.

Aries would also complain since Gertrude would have to burn the sheet to erase the evidence of blood. They couldn't let ridiculous rumors from arising from the lavoir because of the excessive bloodstain.

Meanwhile, as Abel walked around the room as if it was his own, Joaquin's gaze followed his figure. He was still paralyzed from the pain across his entire body, but he was conscious. Who that man was… Joaquin still couldn't tell who it was. But what he was certain of was that he wasn't human — what he did to Joaquin and what Abel showcased wasn't something a normal human could do.

'Where did I see that face?' he wondered, closing his eyes and wincing, breathing carefully because his broken rib was poking his lungs. He tried to stay calm and rest, feeling his eyelids grow heavier from exhaustion and pain. But he fought sleep.

In his head, if he slept, he might not wake up. Joaquin opened his eyes and unconsciously turned his head in the bed's direction. He could barely see Aries's shoulder as she was sleeping on her side.

'Circe.' His mouth opened, but no words came out. He could only call for her in his head, hoping she would wake up so she could call for help. He didn't even think that waking her up could put her in danger because the intruder seemed to just take a bath.

Sadly, Joaquin couldn't speak a word because Abel destroyed his throat. When the faint creak of the door caressed his ears, he stiffened, setting his eyes on the man in a robe, drying his damped hair with a small tower over his head.

Abel glanced at him and saw the crown prince looking in his direction, treading towards the bed where Aries was sleeping. Before joining her, the side of his lips curled up deviously.

Joaquin was looking; there were more ways to hurt him and his ego without touching him. The crown prince used to watch Aries get violated by others. So now, he had to watch his beloved wife cuckold him.

"Darling, your husband is here," Abel whispered, sitting on the edge of the mattress as he bent over to Aries. He traced her cheek with the apex of his nose, feeling her waist while trailing kisses on her neck. "I'm here, wife."

Aries moaned while Abel showered her with sensual kisses. As soon as he heard his wife, Joaquin's eyes dilated, thinking his wife was mistaking another man as the smooching sound of kisses and moans soon reached his ears.

'Circe…! That's not me!' — but to no avail. Joaquin had to listen to his wife's moans before he finally gave in and passed out.