Dragon King's Harem Chapter 506. Unwanted Offering

Dragon King's Harem Chapter 506. Unwanted Offering

I exhaled through my nose. Slowly.

“That’s still wrong,” I said. Calm. Icy. Final. “That’s not how I take a wife. And it’s not a noble act to force yourself into a king’s harem.”

“Oh, force?” she echoed, placing a hand delicately over her heart. “I’m not forcing. I’m offering. Generously.”

I stepped closer, the runic dome casting gold across her pale face.

“Generosity without respect,” I said, “is manipulation.”

She blinked. Then giggled. “You’re harsh. I like that.”

“You’re cunning,” I countered. “I don’t like that.”

“Oh, but you like Maria?” she asked softly, voice curling like silk. “She’s serious. Heavy. Always thinking of everyone else. You’ll thaw her eventually, but slowly. Painfully.”

She leaned in just a fraction. “I could be easy. I could give you warmth now.”

“No,” I said.

Her lips parted slightly—not in shock, but in… fascination. Obsession tightening around the edges.

“No?” she repeated, as if tasting the word.

“No,” I said again. “Because you don’t want to be a wife. You want to be a weapon.”

She stilled.

For the first time, something flickered behind her eyes—something wounded. Old. Twisted.

“You think I want to hurt you?” she asked quietly.

“I think you want to be owned,” I said, “by someone stronger than the Witch King. Than your father.”

Her swallow was small. Almost invisible.

“And you don’t want his chains anymore. So you came for mine.”

She pressed her lips together. No smile this time.

“You make it sound ugly,” she whispered.

“It is ugly,” I said. “Because you came wearing another woman’s skin.”

She flinched again.

But she tried to hide it with a smirk. “You caught me early. You are sharp.”

“I’ve always been sharp,” I replied. “You just thought your charms could blunt me.”

“They could’ve,” she murmured, eyes drifting over me. “If I wanted to try harder.”

“You shouldn’t,” I said.

She tilted her head. “Why not? You never rejected me like this before.”

“You never crossed a line like this before.”

She opened her mouth. Closed it.

Then spoke more quietly.

“I never wanted to hurt her,” she said. “Maria. She is… fine. A little cold for my taste. But I respect her strength.”

She smiled faintly. “I wouldn’t break her heart. I would just… slip in beside it.”

“You don’t belong beside it.”

“Why not?” she asked, taking a step closer to the barrier, palms resting flat against the golden surface. “If I swear myself to you… if I serve your court… if I give up my father’s empire and follow you—why is that not enough?”

“Because you don’t love me,” I said.

Her eyes widened.

“You’re obsessed with what I represent. With my power. With the fact that I never bowed to your father.”

“That’s not—”

“It is,” I said.

Her breath trembled.

And then, finally, she whispered.

“Then teach me.”

“No.”

Her fingers curled against the runes. “I can learn. I can be better. I can change.”

“Not like this.” I shook my head. “Not through lies. Not through seduction meant to disrupt my marriage. Or my harem. Or my court.”

She stared at me, lips parted, breathing shallow.

Then she tried a different tactic, her voice softening, cracking slightly.

“You think I’m evil,” she murmured. “Because I’m his daughter. Because I learned how to survive in his house.”

“I don’t think you’re evil,” I said. “I think you’re dangerous. And lost.”

She bit her lip.

“You think I can’t be loyal,” she whispered.

“Can you be loyal without chains?” I asked.

Her eyes flickered.

To the side.

Away from me.

A tell.

The answer was no.

I stepped back from the barrier, letting the golden glow soften but not fade.

“If you ever impersonate Maria again,” I said, voice low, “I won't have to kill you. But I will make your father do it.”

She swallowed hard. “He won't know.”

“He already knows,” I said. “He always knows.”

Her breath hitched.

My aura told me I was right. Her fear gave it away.

“You should go,” I said, turning away. “Before the palace realizes the witch king’s daughter is inside my chamber.”

She looked shaken now. Not broken. Not repentant. But shaken.

“Argod…” she whispered behind me.

I didn’t stop walking.

“Please,” she said. “Don’t hate me.”

I paused.

Just once.

Then said.

“I don’t hate you. I fear what you could become. That’s why you can’t stand beside my wife.”

Silence.

“…Then what should I do?” she whispered.

I turned slowly.

She wasn’t looking at me anymore. Her eyes were lowered, staring at her own reflection in the arcane shimmer of the cage. She looked young in that moment. Not innocent. But unanchored.

“What do you want me to do?” she asked again, her voice softer now. Less like a viper, more like a girl standing too close to a fire. “I still want you. That hasn’t changed.”

I watched her for a long time.

“You don’t even know me,” I said.

She looked up. “I know you. I’ve watched you. I’ve seen how you move, how you fight, how you rule. You’re the only man who didn’t look at me like I was a pawn. The only one who didn’t try to tame me.”

“That doesn’t mean you love me,” I said. “That means you’re infatuated with an ideal.”

She clenched her jaw. “So what if I am? Isn’t that how it starts?”

“No,” I said. “It starts with truth. It starts with trust.”

“I haven’t lied to you,” she said quickly, stepping forward until her hands pressed flat to the edge of the barrier. Her eyes burned. “I’ve lied to everyone else. I’ve worn masks since I was a child. But with you, I tried to be bold. I thought you’d see me. The real me.”

I walked closer, slow, deliberate. Until we were face to face, separated by that one flickering wall of magic.

“I do see you,” I said.

She blinked fast. “Then why can’t I be by your side?”

“Because I don’t trust you,” I said, voice quiet but heavy. “And without trust, obsession is just a prettier cage.”