Chapter 106: ​The Scorned Concubine

Eiren’s POV

"I am disbanding the harem."

​Those five words echoed inside Eiren’s head, hitting him like a physical blow as he sprinted through the dark hallways toward the concubine hall.

His chest heaved, his lungs burning with every short breath, and the fine hairs on his arms stood on end. He didn’t stop running until he burst into his private room, slamming the door shut behind him.

​Standing alone in the quiet darkness, the terrifying truth settled in his chest.

He hadn’t misheard.

​The Prince of Lust actually meant to throw away his concubines.

​How? Where had everything gone so wrong? Never in his wildest dreams did Eiren expect Azriel—a Sin of pure desires—to do something like this.

​"Why?!" he screamed into the room, rushing over to his wooden desk.

​With one angry sweep of his arm, he shoved everything onto the floor.

Ink pots shattered, brushes rolled across the stone, and papers scattered everywhere. He grabbed a single piece of paper from the mess—a detailed drawing of Azriel he had spent hours working on after the bloodbath in the Hall of Justice, hoping it would win back his favor.

With tears spilling down his cheeks, he tore the paper to shreds, ripping Azriel’s drawn face over and over until only tiny scraps were left in his hands.

​The Prince was doing this for an ordinary human.

A weak, useless omega from a nameless district.

​"Why couldn’t it be me?!" Eiren sobbed, kicking the desk with all his strength until it crashed onto its side. He slid down against the wall, curling into a tight ball and burying his face in his knees as heavy tears soaked through his clothes.

​"The Prince of Lust is supposed to be mine! How could a lowly human win his heart? What did he do to get so much favor?!" he screamed, grabbing a handful of his own long red hair and pulling it until his scalp burned.

​He was supposed to stay by Azriel’s side forever. He was supposed to win. But now, he was losing everything.

​He scrambled to his feet and rushed over to the mirror, staring at his reflection through a blur of tears.

​"I am so much prettier than he is... I gave Azriel everything. I did everything to satisfy him! So why am I suddenly nothing to him?"

​His own reflection felt like an insult.

Unable to take it anymore, Eiren drew back his fist and punched the glass. The mirror cracked into a hundred sharp pieces, and blood immediately dripped from his knuckles.

​"What does he have that I don’t?!" Eiren cried out, falling back onto the cold floor. He beat his fist against his chest over and over, trying to dull the deep ache inside him as tears washed the blood down his arms.

​Before that human arrived, Azriel had always treated him with special care.

​Eiren’s mind flashed back to the night they first met. He was just a terrified boy, running away from an unwanted marriage his parents had forced on him. Men were chasing him through a dark forest, cornering him until Azriel appeared like a savior, killing them all in seconds.

​He still remembered the soft tone of Azriel’s voice when he gave him a choice: "Will you come with me and become my concubine, or would you like to stay back and rebuild your life on your own?"

​Eiren had looked back at the burning estate—destroyed by Azriel for his sake—and chose to follow him without a second thought.

Ever since that day, he had been treated like a true partner.

Azriel had even shared his cultivation with him. Eiren was the very first concubine in the hall before anyone else arrived. Everyone in the court expected that he would eventually be crowned as the Princess of Katula.

​And then Seraphel came along and ruined everything he had built.

​It felt surreal that his whole life was falling apart because of one worthless outsider.

Eiren had truly believed the curse under the bed would get rid of Seraphel once and for all. Instead, the plan failed, and they almost got caught.

If Kaevian hadn’t stepped in to silence Slyven and erase his mind, Eiren knew he would already be dead. He had even lost his most loyal servant in the mess; Kaevian’s cruel cover-up was the only reason he was still breathing.

​The thought of being thrown out—forced to go back to the dirty, poor districts he had escaped years ago—made his stomach turn.

Katula was his home. The Palace of Asmodeus belonged to him, and his heart belonged to Azriel. He wasn’t going back to the dirt.

​"I will never let that useless omega take everything from me," Eiren whispered, wiping the tears from his bloody face.

​He stood up and rushed over to his closet, pulling out a heavy red cloak and wrapping it around his body to hide his stained hands.

There was no way he was going to stand by and watch. He would contact Elysium again, and this time, he would do whatever it took to make sure Seraphel was destroyed for good.

​He knew about the curfew, but he had illusion magic on his side.

Closing his eyes, he shifted his aura, changing his appearance completely. His long red hair shrank away, replaced by short, dark brown hair. His sharp features softened into the plain, unremarkable face of a low-ranking palace servant. Anyone who looked at him in the dark would see nothing more than a simple servant doing late-night chores.

​He slipped out of his room, gliding silently through the dark, empty corridors toward the outer gates.

​As he neared the final archway leading to the courtyard gates, a sharp, cold voice cut through the quiet air behind him.

​"Where the hell do you think you are going?"

Eiren’s heart pounded wildly in his chest as he turned around to face who had caught him ready to use his illusion magic on him but his eyes widened when he saw who it was.

’’You...’’