CW: Explicit language, explicit sexual content, graphic sexual assault/non-con (hand only, no p*netration)
The second half of this chapter is very NSFW. Please heed the content warnings.
If you would like a summary of this section, let me know in the comments!
The last days of spring pass with violent monsoons and storms, and Hanjuyang grieves for the long balmy days as they endure the dying throes of the season.
On the first day of autumn, the entire landscape is drowned in mottled grey waters. Not one foot beyond can be seen before the junkyard starts to mesh and bleed into a monochrome mess. There is a discernible frigidity, and the damp makes it unbearable.
Rin glances around the hall from the dais, so high up is he that the Hounds gathered before him is a sea of restless bobbing heads. The Marquis sits beside, lounging as he pets Rin, nosing his neck whenever his mood turns lascivious. His wound is healing well, though he takes every opportunity to bemoan his suffering. Even going as far as putting his right arm in a sling, despite having full usage of it.
But Rin indulges him. Smiling coquettishly at the man and whispering sweet-nothings into his ear.
He sneers appropriately when Jun is brought out, flanked by Princess and a similarly large Hound, though he remains unbound and unharmed.
The little lord stumbles and blinks blearily in the light as his eyes adjust to the sudden brightness. When he catches sight of the Marquis and his Marchioness being intimate, he freezes over, turning as rigid and cold as an ice statue.
Korain’s mood seems to radically shift upon seeing the lord’s dissatisfaction. He beams and clamps his arm around Rin’s waist, pulling him into his side. The raven giggles and pecks Korain’s jaw. The look he gives him is one of pure adoration, as though there is none else that exists for him but the Marquis.
Jun visibly flinches and lowers his head. He fists his hands until they turn white.
“It has been some time since I last called for an assembly,” Korain begins, his melodic voice reverberating powerfully in this immense space. The restless ambience of the Hounds settles. “And it has also been some time since I last spoke with you, my beloved Pack.”
Korain sighs mournfully and swipes his fingertips beneath his waterlines, as if he were shedding tears. From where Rin’s sitting, he can see none.
“We have suffered great losses recently, and the grief I bear for our family is crippling.”
Looks of incredulity and resentment are silently exchanged amongst the Pack, but the Marquis seems wholly unaware, so focused is he on his performance.
“Your courage and strength in this new era has not gone unnoticed. The Slums, this district, our home, is ours once again because we seized it with our own bare hands. In a single night, we restored our district. Think of what we can achieve in two nights. In a week. In a month. In a year!” He grits his teeth and slams a fist upon his throne, rapacious, hungry, his appetite growing for every word he utters. “Our Pack, our family, will be at the frontier of the Next Cycle, and it will be we who the scorners supplicant themselves to. We, who will be Hanjuyang!”
Korain’s words echo in the uncertain silence that follows. Hounds stare up at their Pack leader with wary expressions. Like cracks skittering through the frozen surface of a lake, their applause are at first fragile, scattered, before quickly gaining body and performative fervour, and then the entire hall is inundated with the usual howls and stamping feet—
There are a handful of Hounds who refuse to deign a reaction. It’s of interest that Princess exists amongst their numbers, wearing a contemplative expression.
The Marquis basks in the cheers of his Pack before raising his hand. Quiet descends rapidly and Korain hums in pleasure.
“Merci mes amis,” Korain lilts, snapping open his new fan. He waves it across his face, displaying its exquisite design and make. His eyes flicker to Jun to gauge his reaction. The little lord remains stoic, unmoving and expressionless. “But onto more…unpleasant matters. As you know, I was attacked by one of our own. My dear trusted advisor, in fact. Bring him forth.” He gestures sharply with his fan and Jun is hauled to the base of the stairs leading up to the dais.
Goldens strike coal blacks in bare defiance. Korain’s smile gains a wicked edge.
“Your assassination attempt has failed, Bijan Azar. I know it may bring your blood to boil to see me before you, alive and well. But know that I do not view you with the same hatred. For I forgive you your transgression, which is borne from the rage of a jealous lover. Matters of the heart, I very well understand, for what are we but mere mortals? And thus, you are freed from your imprisonment and will resume your duties under strict supervision. As punishment, however, you will be demoted to Milkfang. What say you?”
We’re sorry for MTLers or people who like using reading mode, but our translations keep getting stolen by aggregators so we’re going to bring back the copy protection. If you need to MTL please retype the gibberish parts.
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It’s a sickening scene that makes the lord’s stomach flip every which way.
“…I thank you, Marquis, for your generosity,” Jun grits out. The full body of his loathing contradicts his words, with his torrid breaths and darkened mien. Positively murderous.
“How wonderful, Bijan!” Korain sings, clutching his heart in sheer joy. “I am so glad we were able to come to an agreement. I would have thoroughly missed your presence otherwise.”
“As I you,” Jun clips back.
“Marchioness.”
Rin straightens and peers up at the Marquis, pleasantly flushed. “Hm?”
“Mon amour,” Korain purrs, smiling indulgently at his affectionate arm candy. “As for you, I think it is time to promote you from your rank as Milkfang. You are to be my Marchioness, in heart and soul.”
“I thought I already was,” Rin hums.
“Not quite yet.” Korain draws away and pulls out a beautiful red ribbon, two inches in width. Recognising the gesture, the entire hall falls dead silent. Only Jun appears to be confused about the gravity of this moment, as he glances about with a furrowed brow.
Rin gapes at the ribbon. He feels the hairs on his nape rise. “…You can’t be fucking serious,” he says flatly, before his brain is able to catch up. A blink and a hard shake. “I-I mean. Really? You wanna try this again?”
“Unequivocally. I have never been more certain of anything in my life, ma chérie.”
Shitshitshitshitshit–
The raven swallows hard and forces a smile as he pulls his hair from his neck. When he responds, he drops his gaze under pretense of nerves and locks eyes with his little lord. He keeps those goldens within his sights, making his silent intent known. “Then…yes. I will be yours.”
The ghost of a smile graces Jun’s lips.
Silken fingers brush the column of his throat as Korain ties on the ribbon. The bold colour is startling against his pallour, gruesome in that it appears as though he’s had his throat slashed open. Collar fixed, engagement confirmed, the Marquis sweeps his Marchioness into his arms and forces a violent, plundering kiss upon him.
Outside, the prelude to a storm shakes the restless firmament.
***
With the wedding ceremony impatiently set for the next evening, Rin has no choice but to push his plans forward. There had been little opportunity to speak to Jun for the rest of the day, having been caught in the feverish celebrations that followed his engagement to Korain.
As the ‘happy couple’ drunkenly stumbled back to the Marquis’ quarters, Rin managed to catch Jun’s eyes in passing – Jun, who had spent the entire affair pouring drinks and enduring abuse, while he kept close watch over his love, wrapped in the arms of another. A silent understanding passes between them before the couple disappear downstairs. And so it’s with those trusting golden eyes he goes, ghostly prints burnt into his retinas.
The collar itches. Constricts. He can hardly breathe, or maybe it’s because he’s lying in Korain’s bed as the man’s lecherous hands boldly wander his body.
Bony fingers slip over his inner thigh and grip the supple flesh there, inciting a scattered intake from the raven.
Rin squirms and latches onto Korain’s hands, preventing him from going any further. A drunken, obsidian glare strikes in response. “Sorry,” Rin pants, trying to appear as such with a pinched brow and half smile. “But I was…I was hoping we could-could save this. For tomorrow night.”
“Whatever for?” Korain snaps, tightening his already bruising grip on the raven’s thigh. “Don’t you start acting like a trembling virgin when we both know how much of a whore you are.”
The amount of venom dripping off his words sends a shot of icy terror through Rin. He swallows hard. His smile falters before gaining body. “I want nothing more than to have you inside me, pet. But I think…I think it might be nice. To start over. I heard that people like to save themselves for their wedding night. I want…” Tears gather in the corner of his eye and he flushes deeply. A trembling fist rises to his mouth. “The next time we sleep together…I want it to be when I’m yours. Completely yours.” He averts his glistening eye, as if he were suddenly shy.
Korain laughs liltingly, anger sluicing from his relaxing form. “You will be mine either way, mon bébé souris,” he coos, palming Rin’s crotch. He grinds his hand into his soft piece, none too gently. The raven blenches and tries to twist away, but his fiance holds him firmly in place.
“Stop,” he gasps, cold sweat beading his brow. The agony between his legs increases twofold and he scrabbles desperately at the offending hand. “Korain! It hurts!”
“I appreciate your sentiment,” Korain hums, sadistic delight dancing in his eyes. “But I am afraid my appetite is far too strong. It has been many years since I last feasted upon your delectable flesh. Far too long since I last heard your cries.”
Momentary reprieve when the Marquis releases Rin’s bruised piece, only to slip his hand down his pants and grasp him bare instead.
That ice-cold palm winds around his cock, attempting to bring it to life.
And Rin couldn’t feel more nauseous. He turns his face away and buries it into a pillow. Stifles his tremulous breaths, his errant moans. His knees jerk together but they meet the Marquis’ waist between.
“How you respond so quickly to my touch!”
In a panic, Rin realises that he’s hardening under the other’s rough ministrations, the throbs of agony too exquisite for his wanton body to ignore. Panic fills him like caustic acid.
He grabs Korain’s arms in an iron grip, flinching upright with a gasp. “K-Korain! Wait!” He pants raggedly and tries to blink the sweat from his eye. Think! Think!!
An impatient scowl twists the Marquis’ features–
“I haven’t prepared,” Rin says, hurriedly, crumbling his expression into one of shame and embarrassment. “I didn’t know we were going to-to do anything. So I…I didn’t prepare myself. I’m not clean.”
Just as hoped, utter disgust curls the man’s upper lip, and he reluctantly withdraws his touch. “If you are to be my Marchioness,” he purrs, snatching Rin’s face. Fingers dig into his cheeks like needles. “Then you must be clean at all times. Do you understand?”
Rin winces and nods, eyes watering against the pain. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”
Korain clicks his tongue and releases the raven, dropping him to the bed. He withdraws himself entirely and rises unsteadily to his feet. “I will have to whet my appetite with a white collar. Or perhaps Princess, although he has been rather inattentive as of late.” He throws a glare at Rin. “Are you aware of the reason for my Pack’s waning loyalty?”
Rin gathers the sheets over himself as he tries to conceal his shaking form.
“I didn’t know that was a problem,” he lies, furrowing his brows in faux-concern. “They seemed pretty loyal to me, back in the assembly.”
Korain sighs and strolls to his desk, pouring himself a glass of Northern wine. The colour is clear, tinted autumn’s rustic yellow. “How could I lead the Pack if I do not know how to move them?” He swirls the wine and leans against his desk, gaze glittering upon the raven’s dishevelled form. “But I feel their wandering attention. Their dissatisfaction. Something…or someone…is teasing them from my hand.”
What is it that Jun said? “They’re probably still grieving. Lashing out…or whatever,” he finishes lamely, hands clenching beneath the sheets.
“Let us hope you are right, mon amour. Otherwise…” A frigid smile hangs upon Korain’s thin lips. “I would be wholly suspecting of their most recent target of admiration.”
“Admiration?” Rin blinks innocently and tilts his head. “Do you mean…you?”
The Marquis releases a breathy laugh, though it is void of mirth. “Indeed.”
Rin knows that Korain doesn’t buy his act. Not really. He would have seen how his Hounds have regarded his Marchioness as of late. From the moment it was revealed that Rin assassinated Crow, ostensibly to vindicate their fallen comrades, the Pack considered Rin their unofficial leader. A leader to rival the Marquis himself.
Korain knows exactly who threatens his throne. But he seems willing to gloss over said threat. Now that he’s collared Rin, he feels secure in the fact that his only threat is nullified. Or so he believes.
“It’s cold,” Rin complains in a whine. He wriggles over on the bed and pats the yawning space beside him. “Come and warm me, husband.”
Yeah. He’s laying it on thick, but it seems to have quite an effect.
The Marquis huffs a laugh and sets down his half-empty glass. His lips, glossy with wine, perk into a smile. From the way he walks to the way he utters the raven’s pet name, it’s as if Korain were made from a thick sugar syrup, gluggy, suffocating, sickeningly cloy.
“You are ever so naughty, ma chérie. Trying to distract me like so when you are in this filthy state.” The older man settles down beside his future bride, pulling the latter into his arms. His hungry hands never stop touching, nor do his eyes.
The Rat simply nuzzles into his side, looking as though he were the most pampered and spoiled of creatures. He lets his Rosebud training kick in, and he feels himself transition into another face, another body. One that is removed from his own. One that simply wears his name and his image like a skinsuit. And he keeps the buttery golden light of the fireplace flickering in his periphery. He keeps it close to his heart, using it like a shield.
“Whatever your troubles with the Pack, I’ll support you,” Rin murmurs, pecking and lapping at the Marquis’ neck. “I can do so many things for you, husband. You just have to let me.”
“Hm.” Korain’s thick lashes flutter low as he idles. “How do you propose to support me, wife?” If he were any more inebriated, Rin might have missed the subtle bite in Korain’s tone.
Hiding a grimace by burying his face into Korain’s arching throat, Rin runs a hand over the latter’s chest, past the hem of his pants, and deep into the sensitive heat below.
Korain’s breath skips when Rin wraps his hand around his excited member. Only a few teasing strokes is needed before desire drenches his palm.
“Well, a good place to start is by giving me more responsibilities,” Rin says, voice low and silken. He raises his face to the other’s and licks his lips. With his heavy lidded eye, flushed cheeks, and mussed hair, Rin exudes heady allure. “You have another shipment coming in tomorrow morning, don’t you? Why don’t you let the boys sleep in and put me in charge instead? They’ll like you better if you’re not kicking them awake at dawn.”
Korain pants lightly and bucks into the raven’s teasing touch, every inch of skin turned sheen by needy sweat. “Hahh…you…you want to run an errand…?”
“Sure.” Rin pulses squeezes as he winds his palm harder and faster along the throbbing length. Lewd squelches fill the air, accompanied by erratic breaths and sporadic groans. “I want to be more involved in your plans. I want to be someone you can use whenever and however you want. So let me start small. Let me oversee the shipment and delivery of supplies. Maybe, if I do a good job, you’ll give me more things to do. What do you say, mon amour?”
The impromptu Feridalis seems to have done it. Korain tips over the edge with a hard shudder. Guttural groans are dispersed between scattered words, incoherent and delirious. Teeth clack together as delicious waves ripple through every inch of his convulsing body, and hot orgasm spurts thickly into Rin’s hand, soaking into the fabric of his pants…
The raven slides his soiled hand free from the confines of the sodden pants, a saccharine smile digging into his scarred cheek.
Korain slumps bonelessly against the pillows, chest pumping and eyes slightly glazed. He watches Rin from under his drooping eyelids as the latter sucks his sticky fingers clean.
Fuck. He’d long forgotten just how salacious his Marchioness could be.
“And,” the raven continues, licking his glistening lips. “I want to use the traitor as a workhorse. Make him drag the carriage by hand through the Slums. I can imagine a hundred more ways to have fun with him, but it’s as good a start as any, don’t you think?”
Korain chuckles and grabs Rin by his nape. He pulls him down for a violent, bruising kiss. Only when Rin feels on the verge of suffocating, does the Marquis release him.
A sadistic look worms its way onto Korain’s gaunt face. It makes him ugly.
“That sounds like a fine plan, bébé souris. A fine plan indeed.”
Will you die please~ 😊🔪
I wanna kill that guy so bad idc about the rest
Wow thabkies for the chapter!
I felt the full disgust… I havent felt that from anybooks but gosh i felt the disgust and anger and ahhhhhhhh
I am sorry but its been on my mind alot…
Like why does the <redacted> marquis still aggravate Jun? Like he knows hes the future governor and all but why? Is he that confident jun will try to play things by the book?
Oh, he definitely thinks he’s in control of everyone around him. I think that’s one of the Marquis’ biggest weaknesses. He tends to underestimate people, thinking that he’s got them all figured out. A good example is the soiree – he thought he’d be able to control Jun even in this setting, and hadn’t expected Jun to bite back at all. I think that’s a big trait in narcissists like Korain – living under the delusion of their ‘superior’ power and intellect, even when it ends up biting them in the ass lol
Oh i see makes sense.