Betrayed By My Mate, Claimed By His Lycan King Uncle-Chapter 42: I’ll Take You To The Sex Slaves Organizations.

With a simple motion, he tied a silk bedspread loosely around his waist, preparing to head toward the bathhouse.

The rustling of fabric finally made Sorayah instinctively lift her gaze. She barely had time to register his broad, chiseled chest, the way his muscles pulsed with every movement, before her eyes widened, and she immediately turned away.

"Can I go to my room now?" she asked, forcing her voice to remain steady. "The servants said I can't go anywhere unless I ask you."

Dimitri paused, his lips curving into a smirk as he finally addressed her.

"Do you ever listen to me, Sorayah?" His cold voice cut through the air, sending an involuntary shiver down her spine. "Or do you pretend not to, just so I have to repeat myself? I told you that you belong to me and will live here from now on until it's confirmed that you're not pregnant. Have you forgotten that already?" He let out a sigh, shaking his head.

"Either way, there's no need to confirm anything about a pregnancy, I already know it's impossible." He added with a smirk plastered on his face.

Sorayah stiffened.

What is he talking about now?

Dimitri's voice remained detached, indifferent. "Tomorrow, I'll have Liam escort you out of my mansion. He'll arrange an apartment for you and ensure you have enough money to live comfortably. You're free now. There's no longer a need for you to stay here."

Silence filled the space between them.

Sorayah's heart pounded in her chest, her eyes widening in disbelief. He was sending her away.

His words echoed in her ears, each one cutting deeper than the last.

Did he forget her words too or just pretending so that she repeats herself?

"I'm no longer giving you a choice," Dimitri continued, turning toward the bathhouse. "I've granted you freedom. Go to your room and prepare for tomorrow."

"No!"

Her voice rang out suddenly, firm and unwavering.

Dimitri halted mid-step, his head tilting slightly before he turned to face her.

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"I'm not going anywhere," Sorayah declared, her jaw clenched, her hands tightening into fists at her sides. The fabric of her gown bunched beneath her fingers, her knuckles turning white. Her eyes, filled with unyielding determination, locked onto his.

Dimitri studied her for a moment before letting out a low chuckle. "Is this about your dead sister?" His tone was almost mocking. "If so, let me remind you, she was a slave. And slaves die every day." His words were laced with cruelty.

Sorayah's breath hitched, her eyes red with anger, but she refused to falter.

"You should take what I'm offering you while you still can," he continued, his gaze unwavering. "You're no longer a slave, you'll be a free citizen. And to ensure no one dares lay a hand on you outside these walls, I'll mark you with my scent. That way, no one will dare harm you."

Sorayah's resolve did not waver.

"I said I'm not going anywhere." Her voice was firmer this time, her defiance sharp as a blade. "Did you also forget all what I told you?"

Dimitri exhaled through his nose, his amusement barely concealed. He took a step closer, his smirk returning. "I guess I should make something clear to you, Sorayah."

A tense pause hung in the air before he continued.

"If you refuse to leave, then you are nothing more than a sex slave. My sex slave. A play thing to be precise. You're no longer just a personal servant attending to needs but one who would be tagged a sex slave, the title carved on your private areas so that everyone knows what you are once you pull your clothes off."

Sorayah's breath caught in her throat.

Dimitri's voice remained eerily calm as he walked toward his chair, lowering himself into it with deliberate ease. "I'll be moving to the palace soon," he went on, his tone detached, as though discussing a simple business arrangement. "Once there, only palace maids will serve me. Those who worked here in my mansion? They'll be sold. Except for sex slaves. And the lucky ones I choose to take with me."

His eyes gleamed with dark amusement. "Of course, once a woman becomes part of the palace, unmarried, she belongs to the Alpha Emperor. No matter her status."

Sorayah swallowed hard, but she did not back down.

"In the palace," Dimitri continued, "maids die every day. Those who aren't killed simply fade into the background, forgotten." He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "You say you want to stay? Then understand this, you won't be special. You won't be anything more than what I decide you are."

He exhaled slowly before smirking once more. "I already defiled you, Sorayah. If you had been pregnant, at least you could have earned the title of concubine. But you're not and can never be." His next words sent a chill down her spine. "That means you will only ever be a sex slave. And that, my dear, is not as simple as you think."

Sorayah's lips parted slightly, but no words came out.

Dimitri leaned back, his gaze locking onto hers with quiet amusement. "Sex slaves aren't simply kept for pleasure. They are trained. Groomed. Shaped into whatever their master desires."

She clenched her jaw, her mind racing.

Is he trying to scare her? Is this some cruel game?

Her thoughts swirled, doubt creeping into her mind. He doesn't want me here. He's just trying to drive me away.

The Dimitri she had come to know was cold and calculating. He didn't like her. He had no interest in keeping her as his plaything. The night they had spent together had been a mistake, one he had no intention of repeating.

She's unwilling to leave also not when Dimitri mentioned the palace, not when she hasn't avenge Lily. She has a lot to do and she could only achieve that by being beside Dimitri and Lupien.

"I..." she started, but before she could say another word, Dimitri cut her off.

"Before you answer," he said, rising to his feet once more, "I'll take you to the sex slaves' organizations." He smirked. "You can see for yourself how they're trained. And then you can tell me if you still want to stay."

His words hung in the air like a challenge.

Without waiting for her response, he turned away, reaching for his clothes.