I Belong To My Three Forbidden Masters

Chapter 172: Chapter 171

Lysander’s pov

My heart lurched and a dry heave found its way but I swallowed it down as I took in the sight in front of me.

I literally felt my heart break into two as I watched, paralyzed, Drake leaned down, his dark jaw resting against the stranger’s neck, taking a deep, slow breath of his skin.

There was no grief on Drake’s face. Not even a flicker of guilt on his face as he saw me standing there.

The only thing on his face when he looked at me was disgust. My heart constricted painfully when I saw that, I lowered my gaze to the floor where their clothes lay and quickly looked back up.

The sight irritated me. ℴ

A soft, low laugh escaped the stranger’s throat, a smooth, mocking sound that echoed off the quiet walls of the room.

He turned his head, his dark, cruel eyes catching the light as he whispered something into Drake’s ear, his hand sliding lower down Drake’s back.

I couldn’t move. I couldn’t speak. I couldn’t even draw air into my chest to scream.

The silver token in my pocket felt like a red-hot coal burning straight through my thigh. All the rehearsed speeches, all the crushing guilt, all the tears I had shed on my mother’s floor, it all dissolved in a single, devastating second.

If she knew I would come home to find this, would she even urge me to go and make peace with him? She would kill him for letting me see something like this when I was beating myself over my mistake.

I stood in the dark hallway, clutching my stomach, staring at the High Sovereign through the crack in the door, completely shattered as the universe tore itself apart.

I couldn’t move. My boots felt like they were nailed to the dark floorboards outside the door, my body completely paralyzed as the scene inside played out in suffocating detail.

All the crushing guilt I had carried up the driveway, the suffocating weight of my secret pregnancy, the terror of Darius, the ghost of Gideon, the tears I had shed on my mother’s living room floor evaporated in a single, terrifying second.

It vanished, replaced by a sudden, scalding wave of raw betrayal and unadulterated jealousy that filled my chest to the brim.

I had dragged myself back to this gilded cage, ready to strip my soul bare, ready to suffer whatever cold fury or execution he had prepared for me. I had convinced myself that I was the monster. I had believed I was the one who had shattered our bond beyond repair.

And the entire time, he had been doing the exact same thing behind my back.

A breathless, bitter sound escaped my throat before I could stop it, a sharp hitch of air that cut through the quiet room like glass shattering on stone.

Drake’s head snapped toward the doorway instantly and he tensed. I glared at him, expecting him to jump and scramble to cover himself but he did no such thing.

His broad, bare shoulders shifted with slow, terrifying grace as his dark crimson eyes locked onto mine through the crack in the door. His face was a carved mask of marble, completely devoid of shock, guilt, or regret.

It was like he was waiting for me to find them like this.

I shoved the door open even more, the panel slamming against the wall with a loud, violent thud.

”Drake...” I rasped out, my voice cracking wildly, shaking so hard I had to grip the doorframe just to stay upright. My eyes darted from Drake’s cold face to the stranger lying beside him in the bed. ”What... what is this?”

Drake slowly sat up, resting his forearms against his knees, his dark hair falling over his forehead. He looked at me with a quiet, clinical detachment, as if I were nothing more than an unexpected interruption to his evening.

”You should be resting in the master suite, Lysander,” Drake said smoothly, his low voice flat, even, and entirely devoid of warmth.

Wait, what?

Did he know I was gone or he just doesn’t care?

”Resting?!” I yelled, a harsh, hysterical laugh tearing from my throat as tears burned hot and bitter behind my eyes.

I took a sharp step into the room, pointing a trembling finger at the bed, my energy spiking so hard the glass lamp on the nightstand flickered violently. ”I come back here to talk to you, to explain and I find you in bed with someone else?! Who is he, Drake?! Who the hell is this?!”

Drake didn’t answer immediately. He picked up his dark silk robe from the foot of the bed, sliding his arms into the sleeves with agonizing slowness.

”It is none of your business,” Drake said coldly, knotting the belt around his waist as he stood up, his towering frame casting a long shadow over the floor.

Before I could choke out another word, the stranger in the bed moved.

He threw back the velvet duvet with a slow, deliberate grace, stepping onto the plush rug. He wore a loose, open linen shirt, his pale skin glowing softly under the golden candlelight. A mocking, sharp smile stretched across his handsome face as he walked right up to Drake’s side.

Without taking his dark, silver-tinted eyes off my pale, trembling face, the stranger reached out and linked his arm casually around Drake’s broad elbow, leaning his shoulder against Drake’s arm with an easy, practiced intimacy that made my stomach turn violently inside out.

”Now, now, Drake, don’t be impolite to your little guest,” the man purred, his voice smooth, melodious, and dripping with pure, condescending poison.

He tilted his head, looking me up and down like I was a stray dog that had wandered into a palace, his grip tightening possessively around Drake’s arm.

”I’m Julian,” he said smoothly, his eyes flashing with a cruel, triumphant light as his smile widened. ”And to answer your question, little hybrid... I’m Drake’s first love.”