Chapter 153 The Silver-prince Surrender

• The morning sun felt like a thousand needles against Adonis’s skin. He lay in his bed, his long silver hair tangled and matted, a stark contrast to his usual pristine appearance. For the first time in his life, he didn't want to look in a mirror. He didn't want to see the red welts from the whip or the stubborn remnants of black candle wax that clung to his pale flesh like a brand of shame.
• Adonis never wanted to speak of what happened last night to anyone. The very thought of it made his stomach churn with a mixture of fear and a lingering, unwanted heat. He was the king of shadows, the man who controlled the strings, but in one night, the strings had been wrapped around his own throat. He didn't dare imagine the world seeing his pathetic, naked, sorry self being manhandled by a woman.
• In the monarch territories of the ten households, reputation was everything. If the lords and leaders saw him shivering on a cold floor, his pride stripped away alongside his clothes, he would be laughed at. Made fun off. Downgraded. And then cast aside and seen as a less. He knew Fenrir and Vespera had the video. They held his life in their hands, a digital recording that could tighten at any moment.