After Being Forced into a Marriage with My Empress Consort - Chapter 12

Tracy’s gaze gradually turned cold. He traced the line from Adonis’s throat down and pushed aside the collar. A shocking, glaring wound marred his porcelain-white chest. As he pulled the clothing apart, fresh wounds that had yet to scab over were exposed before him.

“What is this?” Tracy asked, shocked. “Is it from a wild beast? Have you been fighting these past few days?”

Fighting? Adonis found that somewhat laughable. What kind of wild beast could possibly have the skill to make him look this wretched?

Aching, terrified, and itching, the roots of his wings felt sore and limp. Compared to his former self, he was now so weak and powerless that he must seem like the best option for a male. The collar around his neck had been changed from a monitor that tracked emotional fluctuations to a psychic suppression collar. As long as his emotions fluctuated beyond a certain threshold, it would emit either weak or powerful electric currents, allowing the male to punish him directly through a program.

He leaned against the bulkhead of the mech, curled his lips, and said in a low voice, “I am indebted to the gift you sent me.”

He lifted his eyes; they were pure, black, and bright.

“What?” Tracy felt as if he had misheard. Since when had he ever sent Adonis such a gift?

“Have you remembered?” Adonis curled his lips slightly and unbuttoned his shirt, exposing his scarred skin. Pale pink scars wound their way up his torso like rose thorns and creeping vines. Among them, the most prominent were the dense whip marks, where barbed hooks had torn through his flesh.

“These are all things you like, along with the collar that restricts psychic energy.” He lowered his head and leaned toward Tracy. “It will be very safe tonight.”

Adonis stood upright, watching his new Lord retreat in surprise. The look in Tracy’s eyes as they scanned his body held no triumph, only disbelief and shock. Perhaps he preferred to brand his own—many males were possessive of their own females—and he had originally been intended to be a beautifully packaged gift. Now, however, that gift had been damaged, leaving him looking utterly pathetic.

Adonis’s expression remained stern. He pulled his shirt back on to hide the new and old scars. He had hated being injured since childhood, so his recovery ability was much weaker than that of an average female. But during the three days he had been locked away, he had tried almost all those chaotic things, nearly to the point of self-torture. There was no pleasure in it. Donald’s original intention had been to make him adapt, but clearly, he had adapted very poorly.

However, the goal of Donald and the other females had been achieved. He was currently very weak, and combined with the effects of alcohol, he had no energy left to resist. Let it be according to their wishes.

Adonis leaned against the cold mech, turning the ring on his ring finger. This meant that in front of a male, he was no longer a Major General, no longer a soldier with many companions and supporters, and he no longer needed to worry about the honors he had once attained. He possessed only one functional attribute. Now that his emotions were stable and his psychic energy was calm, he had successfully become a male’s prisoner, a toy to be treated however his owner pleased.

The high-and-mighty male could strip off his clothes at will, just like untying the ribbon on a gift. The only thing to be thankful for was that this male, at least, was one he had chosen himself.

The male was standing a bit far from him, looking at the wounds on his body with a timid expression, as if he dared not approach. Is it my fault? Is he bothered that I am not polite enough? But anyone receiving such a box of expensive instruments of torture would be unable to help feeling angry. Adonis did not think his attitude was wrong, but he knew that males were all spoiled rotten. He had to lower his posture. Perhaps he hasn’t moved because he dislikes the sight of these wounds directly on his body?

“They will recover by tomorrow. Then you can apply your brand yourself.” The female lowered his eyes. “My body is clean. Everything used was from the unopened gifts you sent.” Adonis emphasized the word gifts heavily. He lifted his gaze to meet Tracy’s eyes. “You can enjoy me directly in a moment.”

Cold air assaulted his body, and waves of intense pain followed. He closed his eyes. “Just as all males enjoy. You can drive your tail hook deep into my body. Sip my blood, like lifting a cup of Bloody Mary.”

“If you are not at ease, adding a few more lashes is fine. I will not have the strength to resist.”

The female’s antennae trembled slightly. His complexion was pale and fatigued; there was not a hint of wedding joy.

Tracy felt an inexplicable sadness. Perhaps I am too arrogant, he thought. The distorted system of the Bug Star had allowed him to be pursued by countless females without any effort, leading him to believe he was naturally and deservedly popular. He had placed himself in a high-and-mighty position, and interacting with this female felt as if everything were a favor to him.

But perhaps, he doesn’t like me?

The blood that had been boiling gradually cooled. Tracy always felt that the way the female looked at him carried a faint trace of irony.

“I never sent you a gift to hurt you. I forgot to explain at the time; this was all bought by Florson.” He wanted to touch Adonis’s face, but he saw him flinch. Tracy lowered his hand. There was a lack of necessary trust between them. He apologized sincerely, “I am very sorry, Adonis.”

He truly did not know what was in Florson’s gift box; he had simply assumed it was jewelry or a congratulatory present, something as precious as the gifts Donald had given them today. But clearly, he had overestimated the moral standards of the males on Bug Star.

So, what was actually given to Adonis? He clenched his fingers, looking at this cold Major General. Was it these scars on his body?

Tracy’s heart twitched, as if something had grabbed it. He became serious, no longer playful.

Hearing his apology, the female opened his eyes, his eyelashes fluttering. His eyes held a hint of surprise. Tracy saw himself reflected in the depths of Adonis’s pupils. Will he believe me?

The mech hovered at this moment. The female did not say much more. He smoothed his clothing and introduced politely, “We have arrived at my home. George Avenue, Floor 257 of the Skyscraper.”

Adonis’s mech had unparalleled performance. He hovered next to the towering building, the hatch opened, and cold air poured in like a storm. Tracy stumbled a few steps from the wind, only to be held firmly by Adonis, who flew over.

They arrived at the side of the mech cabin. Looking at the night sky outside, which resembled a bottomless abyss, Tracy felt a bit dizzy. “How are we supposed to get across?” In the past, there had at least been a transparent elevator that could take him up from the first floor, but did this apartment building not even have a front door? No wonder Adonis had climbed over the balcony last time; it turned out he was used to it!

“Most of the residents here are females. I didn’t think this through.” Adonis held the hatch with one hand while unfurling his somewhat sore wings, turning his head to ask softly, “May I hold you?”

“Of course.” Having received permission, Adonis held Tracy in his arms. The two were very close; Tracy could even smell the light, faint scent of pomelo blossoms on Adonis. If it had been earlier, Tracy might have laughed and bitten his porcelain-white neck to secretly observe his reaction, but the flash of red he had seen earlier was ultimately jarring, as if something had slipped out of his control.

Tracy, whose personality was usually quite lively, kept a straight face. He carefully avoided the female’s wounds, only loosely looping his fingers around his waist. But his fingertips seemed to have magic; wherever they touched, that spot would tighten. If it were before, he would have confidently assumed the female was nervous and shy, but now, he couldn’t help but feel apologetic. Did I touch his wounds? Is he in pain? So, as soon as his feet touched the floor, Tracy immediately and politely let go.

The female glanced at him and followed behind him.

“Please record your biometric authorization, and all rooms will be open to you from now on.”

The sensor lights flickered on, and after two beeps, Tracy knew he was now the owner of this room as well.

“Two bedrooms, one combat room, and one kitchen. I rarely stay in the living room and on the balcony, so they seem quite empty.” Adonis rubbed his temples; he felt a bit dizzy, but he still took Tracy to tour the entire apartment.

Just as he had introduced, the apartment was very simple. Aside from the necessary daily necessities, there were only a refrigerator, an air conditioner, and black, white, and gray storage cabinets. Every grid of the storage cabinets was hung with medals and trophies.

“Wow, you are so amazing.” Tracy looked at the military medals the female had earned. Most were related to clearing out wild beasts, and some were for combat exercises between legions. The collective honors he had earned had also been turned into golden plaques.

Adonis listened to Tracy’s praise without changing his expression, his once-tensed back gradually relaxing. He had originally thought the male would hate these things; after all, the more medals he had, the fiercer he was. The more brutal a female, the naturally more dangerous he was.

The last stop was the bedroom. A bright red, celebratory double happiness character was pasted on the door. This lone character brought a bit of festive atmosphere to the evening, but as Adonis entered his fingerprint, the character drifted down and landed at Tracy’s feet. Both bent over to pick it up, but their heads bumped into each other. They looked at each other, and their breathing stopped for a moment.

In the end, Tracy was closer, so he picked it up, folded it twice, and placed it on the entry cabinet.

The bedroom was very large. Upon entering, there was a half-height cabinet with a few metal ornaments and a vase on it. To the right was a shower room. The sheets were newly replaced in red, looking completely out of place with the black, white, and gray style of the rest of the room. It was evident that the owner had been very perfunctory and hadn’t set up anything with a wedding atmosphere. With such a lone, massive bed, if it hadn’t been red, Tracy would have conscientiously requested to sleep in the guest room.

Looking at the bed, Tracy hesitated for a moment, but in the end, he didn’t suggest switching rooms. Perhaps feeling the atmosphere was a bit awkward, the female was the first to break the silence.

“Today is the wedding night.” Adonis’s voice sounded as cold and pleasant as metal. He whispered, as if reminding Tracy, and also as if reminding himself. “I will go wash up first and then serve you?”

Tracy sat in the corner of the wall, staring at the blurred silhouette of the female in the bathroom. The current development of events seemed to have slipped out of his control. He had originally assumed this would be a pleasant blind date where they liked each other and were not opposed to long-term association, leading to marriage. Now, everything had been ruined by Florson.

Ah, what kind of ghost items did he send! Tracy scratched his head of pink hair, his tail hook swinging back and forth in agitation. How did I inexplicably turn into an abuser without even knowing it? But he was too embarrassed to ask. I should take a serious look later, right?

Tracy sat on the bed in a daze. He wanted to pull his consort over to explain and secretly glance at his wounds to see if they were serious, but he didn’t dare. The female’s shower was very quick; before he had even figured it out, the bathroom door was pushed open.

The face after the steaming water was even cleaner and more beautiful. The consort was wrapped only in a bath towel. His upper body was a clean white chest, with crystal-clear water droplets rolling on it, gathering into a line and flowing downward. He still had the whip marks left by the special whip on his body, intermittent and broken. The hot water had steamed the wounds into a pink color, looking slightly swollen.

“You should apply some medicine first,” Tracy couldn’t help but show concern. He wasn’t a beast; he didn’t enjoy watching others get hurt. But this body was indeed made more beautiful by the wildness added by these wounds; almost everything he could imagine, the other possessed. He was neither coy nor pretentious. In the swirling mist, there was vast whiteness and dim pink. The black, icy, pool-like eyes carried a condescending sense of disdain, looking over without emotion, making Tracy’s tail hook restless.

His eyes carried a hint of reproach. I am sorry; it was my fault. He felt very sorry and mentally scolded Florson a hundred times over, but upon seeing the light, shallow scars on Adonis’s body, his body honestly felt very aroused. He wanted to apologize while kissing him. He wanted to kiss every wound and tell them how sorry he was.

A small flame in his heart was hooked and began to rise. Not daring to look any more, Tracy rushed into the bathroom as if fleeing from a disaster, closed the door, and leaned against it. His heart was still beating thump, thump, thump. Tracy showered in cold water for a while before extinguishing his boiling, improper thoughts. He really was a beast. He should have comforted the consort’s wounded soul, but all he could think about was mating. He wanted to see his originally reproachful eyes become soft and wet, his pupils stained with moisture and heat, his thin lips overflowing with broken, hoarse moans, and then forgiving him while biting his lower lip.

He examined his own body in the mirror. It couldn’t be called very strong, but under his consistent and deliberate exercise, his body was also covered with a thin layer of muscle. He brushed his wet pink hair up, revealing his damp, glistening eyebrows and eyes. No one seeing such a little male would think he was very cruel. He would definitely listen to his explanation, right?

Tracy lifted his own tail hook. It was silver-white and sparkling, covered with hard bones, looking cold and sharp. The small black crack on it was currently painful and itchy. Outside, a wounded, pitiful female was judging his performance. If he wanted to prove himself, he had better act like a perfect gentleman tonight.

Do it, don’t do it.

Do it, don’t do it?

How on earth should I act!

Tracy sighed deeply, then opened the door. The room was a bit dark, with only one small lamp on. The curtains had been drawn, leaving only a crack for ventilation. The female was obediently applying medicine; the areas smeared with medicinal oil looked crystal clear, but he seemed unable to reach his back. He was trying very hard to reach it with his hand when he saw Tracy open the door. He resumed his indifference and put the medicine oil aside.

Tracy walked closer. He smelled the herbal scent of the medicine oil, mixed with a hint of the fragrance of pomelo blossoms. Reason told him not to be moved and not to act, but a demonic thought was provoking him.

Ah, on this wedding night, this romantic night, he should have originally had a perfect, happy ending. What is wrong with wanting to fuck a beautiful female! Everything is the fault of that damn Florson!!!

“Let’s begin. Do you want whipping, or some other punishment?” The female, sure enough, didn’t believe him. He slowly sat up from the bed, then hesitantly lay on his side, his expression vigilant. Tracy saw his gaze land on the inconspicuous black box at the foot of the bed; he seemed to be hesitating.

Tracy sighed; he knew what kind of ghost items were inside. He gritted his teeth and kicked the box far away.

“How do you like to start?” His fingers rested on the female’s shoulder. Tracy brushed over those scars. Fortunately, they look very shallow; they are all superficial wounds. It was just that there was an eyesore bruise on his back, destroying the overall aesthetic.

Tracy’s heart felt a stinging pain. Those romantic thoughts were gone. He was convinced that this bug had been harmed because of him. Tracy took a deep breath, scooped up a large chunk of cold, soothing ointment, and smeared it on the female’s body. He gritted his teeth and said, “I don’t like bugs covered in scars.”

His fingers brushed over every scar. The chill made the female’s body involuntarily tighten, and he gripped Tracy’s forearm. Tracy showed a reassuring smile. “So, the first step is not whipping, and there is no punishment. Let us apply the medicine first, shall we?”

Support