The Iron God Claims His Brother's Ex

Seraphina POV:

"I'll force Sera to yield her Viscountess title to you, and she can be our bed-slave," my fiancé of three years grunted, pinning my cousin heavily against the royal study desk as I watched through the cracked door.

My blood ran ice-cold. Through the narrow gap, I saw Clarisa’s pale blue lace gown crumpled and pushed up her thighs, her fingers digging into Crown Prince Gideon’s broad shoulders.

"But... ah... what if she refuses?" Clarisa whimpered, putting on her best frightened-rabbit act even amidst her breathy moans.

"She's just a cold-blooded Dragonless," Gideon sneered, the heavy, breathless gasps echoing in the room. "She's so obsessed with me, she'll do whatever I say. You're the one carrying my pureblood heir."

"Oh, Gideon... you're so bad," Clarisa panted. Suddenly, her light blue eyes fluttered open, locking directly onto the crack in the door.

She saw me.

Beneath her pitiful, victimized facade, a malicious smirk curled her lips. She wrapped her arms tighter around Gideon's neck, letting out a loud, exaggerated moan of pleasure, putting on a show just for me.

I had practically emptied half my mother's fortune for that title. I had saved her life during the dragon hunt just days ago. And this was my reward?

I didn't cry. I didn't scream. I simply raised my foot and kicked the heavy oak door open.

Bang!

The door slammed against the wall. The two figures on the desk froze.

Clarisa shrieked, scrambling to smooth down her ruined skirt. Gideon cursed violently, stumbling backward and frantically adjusting his disheveled clothes, his face flushed with a mix of lingering lust and sudden panic.

I stood there in my elegant gown—conspicuously absent of the scale embroidery that marked one as Dragon-born—watching them like they were two pieces of trash rotting in the gutter.

In a split second, Gideon masked his shame. He hurriedly smoothed his hair, adjusted his cuffs, and walked toward me with a sickeningly self-righteous expression, as if he hadn't just been caught red-handed betraying me.

"Don't overreact, Sera. This is nothing but a loveless breeding duty."

These were the first words he chose to say to me.

"Sera, my heart belongs entirely to you," Gideon murmured, his sky-blue eyes trying to look sincere. "But the kingdom needs a pure Dragon-born heir. Clarisa's pregnancy secures the royal bloodline. I swear, I will only have this one child with her."

He leaned in closer, oblivious to the absolute disgust radiating from my pores. "To make the court accept her and our child, she needs a respectable status. I need you to be reasonable. I need you to voluntarily yield the Viscountess title to her."

I stared at him. He was casually asking me to hand over the very thing I had sacrificed my mother's fortune for, right after I caught him rolling around on a desk with another woman.

"But don't worry, my love," he continued, acting as if he were bestowing a great honor upon me. "I have already arranged for you to be my secondary consort. You will still be by my side."

The whispers of the nobility who had started gathering in the hallway buzzed around me like venomous gnats. They had followed the noise, and they didn't bother to lower their voices.

"Look at her. The Dragonless actually caught them in the act." "What a joke. A woman with cold blood and no dragon flame, dreaming of the throne." "Belonging in the trash, yet dreaming of the sky. Now she has to hand her title over to her cousin. How pathetic!"

Every word was a poisoned needle. Clarisa stood behind Gideon, squeezing out a few crocodile tears, but the smirk on her lips was unmistakable. Since childhood, she had used her Dragon-born status to steal everything from me. Now, she thought she had stolen my future.

Gideon looked at me, waiting for my tears. He thought he was offering me a lifeline, and I was supposed to bow my head, play the humble Dragonless, and be grateful.

I lifted my head, met Gideon's arrogant gaze, and spoke one clear, calm word.

"No."

The fake pity on Gideon's face froze, replaced by astonishment and disbelief. He clearly hadn't expected me to refuse.

I didn't spare him, or the half-dressed Clarisa, another glance. I straightened the spine I had once bent for him, performed a flawless, mocking curtsy, and turned.

The sound of my heels clicking on the marble floor was exceptionally clear. Each step was a declaration of my break from him.

Without looking back, I walked straight out of this gilded cage.

My personal maid, Ginny, was waiting anxiously at the end of the hall. Seeing me emerge, the worry on her face deepened.

"Miss, what happened?"

"Ginny," I interrupted, my voice laced with a newfound, icy resolve. "Go find Mrs. Gable immediately. Tell her to bring every single ledger of my mother's dowry and the Sinclair family accounts to my room tonight."

For years, my mother and I had played the accommodating roles. We let them bleed our wealth dry, hoping for a shred of genuine affection. Instead, they took everything we gave and betrayed me on a desk behind my back.

They thought I was just a weak, Dragonless girl they could bully into submission. They were wrong. I knew exactly how my greedy family and this shameless prince would try to pressure me tonight, and I was going to prepare a welcoming gift they would never forget.