Night Monarch's Cannon Fodder Bride Chapter 34: Fallen Into A Trap

Author’s Warning: Non-consensual touching and degrading language.

This story leans toward dark romance, not sweet and fluffy romance, so warnings will not appear at every turn—just as in earlier Chapters where the lead faced bullying.

Relevant tags will be provided when necessary at the beginning of the Chapter (Just like this one).

Enjoy the Chapter~

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"Whoa, easy there, princess," a silky, mocking voice hissed from the shadows. "Wouldn’t want you hurting your throat... not before it’s put to good use, right?"

Severine struggled to steady herself, trying to make out the shape of the man looming over her.

Her strength was fleeing her body. If not for the door and the person holding her upright, she would have long since slid to the floor.

She gingerly touched the diamond-studded wristwatch.

The cold surface reminded her that the banquet was in full swing, and that no guests would co near the guest rooms at such a ti.

The intruder stepped even closer. His eyes glinted with twisted amusent. His fingers brushed over her sweat-slick face as he let out an exhilarated sigh.

"You look even more ravishing than I imagined. It’s almost a sha I can’t have a taste right now. But I guess that’s part of the fun."

"Hurry up. If we get caught, we will be done for," another stern voice cut in impatiently. "As for her... You can have all the fun when the master is done."

"Hahaha, right."

From their words and actions, Severine understood they were there to kidnap her under soone’s orders—and that they were very familair with such things as abduction.

I need to run. Until I reach the banquet hall. Until I find my father.

The once suffocating hall, swarming with fake people, had turned into her only hope.

Just as she reached back to twist the handle, two large hands roughly seized her waist, hauling her over his shoulder.

Severine tried to scream, but only managed to let out a weak whimper. Her throat refused to respond.

Before she could attempt again, a piece of cloth was shoved inside her mouth, muffling all her shouts.

"Be good," the one hauling her smacked her back with a delighted laugh. "Brother will take you to heaven soon."

Her vision turned hazy, unable to distinguish between the door and the wall. The drugged cloth tasted acrid on her tongue. It was like eating stale sweets mixed with the bitterness of rotten flowers.

The fus made her even more lightheaded.

By the ti the two kidnappers casually led her out the back door, she couldn’t even move her fingers let alone call for help.

Unfamiliar heat and desire thrumd inside her veins. A strong sense of despair washed over her.

Why?

All she wanted was to attend the banquet and return to her room. So why was she being subjected to such humiliation?

Her captors were clearly working under soone’s command. But who?

The first na that sprang to her mind was Damien Rhodes.

After all, his earlier glare was filled with anything but kindness.

I will kill him, she thought hazily. If she survived, she would tear him apart with her own hands.

And if she didn’t and ended up dying herself, then at least she would get a chance to curse the goddess of fate directly.

Was there truly a need for her end to be this cruel? Falling from the building suddenly sounded rciful.

Swans don’t fly, maybe they do?

Fly like a bird... or a butterfly...

Huh? Why am I thinking about flying?

Her thoughts scattered, slipping into nonsense she couldn’t control.

Thud.

She vaguely heard the door being closed, and her body sank into the soft seat.

The place felt cramped.

The engine roared to life, taking her away from the Rhodes mansion.

I am... in a ... car...

The overload of sensations shattered what little clarity she had left.

The person sitting beside her took pleasure in touching her bare skin, grazing her collarbones. His other hand was grabbing at the hem of her gown, trying to slip inside.

Despite the disgust, muffled moans slipped past the cloth wet with her saliva as her body wanted to stick closer to the heat radiating from the other man.

I hate this, she thought. Her eyes burned with unshed tears.

"Hey, I don’t think it’s the dicine that’s making her moan like a slut," he sneered. "I bet she has always been thirsting for n."

Severine subconsciously wanted to shake her head in denial. But the next words left her burning with sha and rage.

"You look pretty grinding on my seat. Want to help you out? Hmm?"

"Oi, don’t ss around," the driver warned as they turned onto a deserted road.

"I know."

The man’s eyes were turning red with both lust and eagerness. Yet he couldn’t handle the flared gown, which had too many layers to count.

"Fuck! What the hell kind of dress is this?"

Severine was suddenly glad that she picked this dress. At least it kept those disgusting hands away from her lower body.

Powerless, she went slack in the arms of her captors, drawing a pleased chuckle from him.

"So eager to throw yourself at ? No wonder the master wants you so bad."

Confident they had succeeded, he yanked the cloth from her mouth.

His gaze firmly locked onto her parted, trembling lips.

"Who?" Severine rasped, her voice crooked under the strain of dicine.

"Huh?" the man raised her brow. "Want to know who your new master is? Sure, I’ll tell you if you give a kiss."

He leaned down, bringing his face close to the dazed beauty. The whiff of sothing subtly aromatic filled his nostrils. Red wine, the one he had personally drugged.

From this distance, Severine finally figured out the person’s identity. The server who had asked her if she needed refreshnts.

So the "master" he spoke of had never been Mr. Rhodes.

She had walked straight into a trap—one carefully laid just for her.