Vengeance in His Bed novel Chapter 12

Chapter 12: The Bitter Truth

"Let go of her, Dorrent! Now!"

Guron’s voice resonated with an authority of a high-tier Alpha, a command so potent it felt like a physical shockwave. Before Dorrent could even process the order, an invisible, crushing weight slammed into his forearms, forcing his fingers to uncurl from Jannah’s throat.

Jannah slumped to the floor, a heap of pale skin and black lace, gasping for air as her lungs burned. She curled into herself, her small frame shaking violently, though her eyes remained fixed on the man who had just tried to end her.

Dorrent stumbled back against the bedpost, his chest heaving, his face a mask of primal, unhinged fury. He pointed a shaking finger at the girl on the floor, his voice a jagged, guttural snarl.

"Father! This... this filthy gutter-rat! She’s ruined me!" Dorrent roared, his crimson eyes glowing with a lethal light. "She took advantage of my state! While I was unconscious, while I was drugged by her foul herbs, she molested me! Look at her! Look at the marks! She forced herself onto me to tie me to her through a claim!"

Guron stepped into the center of the room, his expression unreadable, though a faint, weary sigh escaped his lips. He simply crossed his arms, looking like a man dealing with a petulant child rather than the CEO of a global tech company.

"There is no claim, Dorrent," Guron said, his voice flat and devoid of the drama his son was projecting. "And there was no sex. She hasn’t slept with you."

Dorrent froze, his jaw hanging open slightly. The silence in the room became heavy, pressing. He looked at Jannah, then back at his father. "What? Look at her! The hickeys... the bruises... she said...I...that I...! She admitted it!"

Guron glanced down at Jannah, who was still rubbing her neck, a dark, vengeful glint still shimmering in her eyes. "It was a trick, Dorrent. A plot for your own ego. She used a simple topical irritant to create those marks on herself while you slept. She wanted to see you break, and clearly, you were more than willing to oblige her."

Jannah let out a small, jagged cough, her lips curling into a bloody, defiant smile. She didn’t deny it. She had wanted to see the great S-tier Alpha reduced to a panicked, insecure mess, and she had succeeded.

Dorrent’s face went through a kaleidoscope of emotions—shock, denial, and finally, a deep, simmering humiliation. But then, he looked at his own body. He felt the dull, heavy ache in his muscles, the peculiar soreness that radiated from his shoulders to his thighs.

"Then why does my body feel like this?" Dorrent demanded, his voice trembling with a different kind of intensity. "My skin is sensitive. My muscles are sore all over, Father. If nothing happened, why do I feel like I’ve been through a physical war?"

Guron sighed, stepping toward the nightstand and picking up a small, empty ceramic jar. "Because of this. It’s an ointment Jannah recommended—a deep-tissue herbal stimulant designed to wake up your dormant nerves. She was too ’shy’ to apply it to a naked man herself, so she gave it to me."

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