The Emperor's obsession

Serenya clenched her trembling hands, her delicate fingers curling tightly in her lap as she tried not to let the weight of the moment crush her. She sat motionless—on his lap, of all places—with every eye in the throne room anchored to her like thorns on bare skin. But none of it compared to the searing heat of the Emperor's gaze.

Zareth Ravaryn.

His piercing red eyes were fixed solely on her, not once shifting away. The court murmured in the background, the scent of cold marble, incense, and blood tingling in her nose, but she could not look away. Her cheeks were on fire from the humiliation. Never in her life had she imagined sitting on a man's lap—let alone the most powerful and feared ruler in the Empire—and especially not like this.

"Your Imperial Majesty, please spare my—" she began to whisper, her voice trembling with emotion.

But Zareth cut her off smoothly, his voice rich and biting. "That's not how an Empress passes judgment. You don't plead—you command."

The words hit her like cold water. Empress? Her lips parted in silent protest, she didn't want to be his empress! , but his arm around her tightened, fingers pressing possessively against her waist. His warmth was a furnace, his presence suffocating and overwhelming.

Was this man deaf? Or simply impossible?

"I'm already betrothed," she muttered under her breath through gritted teeth , trying to rise.

Zareth didn't even blink. His grip coiled tighter around her. "Sit still."

His voice was low and dangerous, the kind of voice that didn't allow defiance.

"Please, Your Imperial Majesty… spare my sister," she tried again, her tone laced with desperation.

Zareth's gaze darkened, a flicker of something primal passing through his crimson eyes. The soft lilt of her voice—so innocent, so pleading—lit something within him. The way she said please... he wanted to hear her say it again. And again.

For him.

His fingers drifted up to her veil.

Her eyes widened. "No—!"

She moved to stop him, but he caught her hand with his other, pinning her easily.

Zareth's knuckles brushed against her covered lips, tracing the hidden curve. A smirk curled at the corner of his mouth.

"I can spare her," he whispered against her ear, his breath ghosting across her cheek. "But only on one condition."

Serenya turned to him, horrified, her wide innocent eyes locking with his. She was being drawn into a storm—one she couldn't escape.

"I want you," he murmured, the possessive edge in his tone unmistakable.

She flinched, her heart crashing in her chest. "You can't have me. I'm already promised to another," she bit out, barely containing her panic. "Take any of the noble daughters. Not me. Please, Your Imperial Majesty."

Zareth's expression hardened. The air shifted.

"Give her thirty lashes," he ordered, voice like a blade .

The guards stepped forward, whips in hand.

Elarynth's scream rang through the chamber, her eyes wide with terror. "No! Please! You majesty! Mother! Father! Serenya—!"

Queen Ishara stepped forward, tears streaking down her face as she knelt, pressing her forehead to the cold floor. "Please, Your Imperial Majesty. Have mercy ! Spare my daughter!."

Thirena and Naerya fell to their knees beside her, and soon, King Rajan and Aresh followed. Even Prince Kael bowed deeply, his head lowered. "Please, spare her, Your Majesty!."

Serenya's heart cracked at the sight. Her proud family—on their knees.

Zareth watched silently.

Then he said, "Make it fifty." And Serenya's eyes widened.

The crack of the first whip made Serenya's entire body jolt. Elarynth's cry echoed, raw and broken.

"Please—!" Serenya gasped, turning to him, eyes brimming with tears . "Make it stop! I… You can have me."

The words were choked, but sincere. Her soul ached as she offered herself like a lamb to the slaughter.

Zareth moved to brush away her tears, but she flinched.

"Stop," he commanded, raising a hand.

The guards froze.

"Repeat what you just said."

Serenya bit her lip, her voice faltering. "Please… spare my sister."

"Not that." His voice was sharper now.

Her hands curled into fists. "You can… have me, Your Imperial Majesty. Just please… make this stop."

The throne room went deathly silent.

Zareth's smile was slow. Satisfied. "Too late."

The whip cracked again, and Serenya gasped.

"But you said—!" she cried. "You said if you could have me, you'd stop!"

"I asked. You hesitated."

Another strike.

She grabbed his hand. "I'll do anything, Your Imperial Majesty. Anything. Just stop it."

Zareth paused, the red in his eyes gleaming with triumph.

"Anything?" he murmured silkily.

Serenya's head bowed. "Yes, Your Imperial Majesty."

He leaned closer. "Words, little dove. I need words."

She shut her eyes. "I belong to you."

The silence was absolute.

Zareth smiled and finally turned to the guards. "Take the princess back to her chambers." The servants stepped forward helping Elarynth out of the room.

The court exhaled. The Vayrana royal family rose, trembling, still shaken.

"Thank you, Your Imperial Majesty. May your reign be forever," they said, bowing low.

But Serenya couldn't speak. Not even breathe. Because she had just offered herself to the most dangerous man in the empire.

And he had accepted.

Not like a man given a gift.

But like a conqueror claiming his prize.

Zareth finally released his hold on Serenya, and she stumbled off his lap, her cheeks flushed a furious crimson as she scrambled to her feet. She tugged her veil lower in an attempt to shield her mortification, but it did nothing to erase the memory of sitting on the emperor's lap in front of an entire court. Every breath she took trembled in her chest, and she tried to steel herself, desperate to reach her sister.

But before she could descend the stairs, a cold, commanding hand wrapped around her wrist.

"Where are you going, little dove?" Zareth's voice curled around her like smoke, low and smug. "I didn't permit you to leave."

She tried to wiggle her hand out of his grip, but he followed her down the marble steps with infuriating ease, still holding her as though she were a delicate object in his possession. His thumb rubbed slow, maddening circles into her skin, sending a shiver down her spine.

"One more thing," he said casually, but his voice echoed through the great courtroom like a decree from the gods. "I plan on making Serenya mine. Completely."

The entire courtroom stiffened. King Rajan's expression twisted, torn between fury and helplessness. He took a cautious step forward.

"Your Imperial Majesty," he said tightly, "Princess Serenya is already recorded in the Empire's Council as the betrothed of Prince Kael. The Thamur symbol has been marked."

Prince Kael stepped forward. His voice was composed, but his eyes held a fire that trembled with barely concealed restraint.

"I love her, Your Majesty," he said. "I've loved her since we were children. I waited until the moment was right, and now it is. Serenya is mine."

Serenya's heart skipped a beat at Kael's confession , she had never known that he knew her when they were little. It should have brought her comfort. It should have strengthened her resolve. But she felt Zareth's hold tighten, his presence overwhelming even the memory of Kael's gentle affection.

Zareth clicked his tongue. "Is that so?" he said, his tone lined with exaggerated boredom. "I don't see anything on her that validates such a claim."

He lifted Serenya's wrist higher, as if to put her on display. "No symbols. No markings. She's unclaimed."

Kael stood firm. "The anklet. On her right leg. The silver moonstone anklet passed down through the Thamur line. It marks her."

Gasps rose among the nobles. The anklet. The sacred binding of promise.

Serenya felt every eye in the courtroom turn to her. Her body burned with shame, and she cursed silently at the circumstances. Even this—something so personal, so sacred—was being laid bare for the entire empire to see.

Zareth turned his head slowly toward her, his crimson gaze heavy and deliberate.

"Is there?" he asked. His voice was silk soaked in danger. "Let me have a look, Serenya."

She clenched her fists, her whole body trembling as she slowly raised the edge of her gown, revealing the delicate anklet encircling her right leg. The silver gleamed under the grand chandelier, the moonstone glowing softly like it held the weight of a thousand promises.

Zareth's hold finally loosened from her wrist, but before she could take a step away, he squatted down before her. Serenya froze in horror. The Emperor of the empire of thorns was crouched before her—touching her leg.

His fingers slid along the anklet, his touch unbearably intimate.

"Such a cheap chain," he drawled loudly enough for everyone to hear. His crimson eyes met hers, and his gaze burned. "You deserve better, little dove. I would've given you one made of gold... and diamonds."

Her breath hitched.

The court watched in stunned silence as Zareth ran his hand along the back of her calf, then gripped the anklet tightly.

With a sharp twist and a snap, the silver anklet broke. Gasps echoed. The moonstone clattered to the marble floor, rolling away like a discarded vow.

He stood, tossing the broken chain onto the ground like trash.

"Done," Zareth declared, his smile crooked and cruel. "Now there's nothing to claim her."

Serenya stood frozen, her leg still slightly lifted, her hands trembling with shock and fury.

Kael's face darkened, but he said nothing. Not when Zareth's power suffocated the entire room. Not when he knew that a single wrong word could doom not only him but his kingdom.

Zareth, ever pleased with his destruction, leaned close to Serenya again. " Now you're mine".