Too Late, My Dragon Lord Ex

Cristin's POV:

Slap!

A loud, heavy slap echoed through the spacious corridor.

I put so much force into the strike that Ansley staggered backward and collapsed onto the marble floor.

"Ansley!" Collin roared. My fated mate, the Dragon Lord of our Clan, instantly dropped to one knee, pulling the weeping woman into his arms with overwhelming protectiveness.

To punish my "insolence," Collin mercilessly unleashed his dominating draconic aura. That violent, invisible force slammed into my chest like a concrete wall, stealing my breath and making my knees buckle.

Enduring the suffocating pressure, I looked past his self-righteous, protective stance. Through the half-open heavy stone doors, I could clearly see the Consecrated Nesting Chamber—the sacred room I had poured six months of blood, sweat, and tears into preparing for our upcoming Mating Ceremony. Now, it was utterly defiled. The air reeked of Ansley's cheap, pungent perfume mixed with Collin's faint dragon's breath, and her son's toys were carelessly strewn across my priceless sunstone rug.

But what stung my eyes the most was the garment Ansley was currently wearing.

It was the starlight-silk nightgown Collin had gifted me on our engagement anniversary. Right over the heart of that sheer fabric was a single, shimmering dragon scale—Collin's own heart-scale. I remembered the night he gave it to me; he had kissed my forehead tenderly and sworn that he plucked the softest scale closest to his heart so it could rest against my heart, protecting me forever.

In my past life, I cherished that scale more than my own life. For this hypocritical vow, I foolishly ignored my mother's tearful warnings, turned my back on my own family, and poured my late father's entire fortune into supporting his failing domain. And what did I get in return? Betrayal and death.

"Cristin, are you out of your fucking mind?!" Collin's furious roar snapped my attention back. His golden dragon eyes glared at me, his handsome face twisted in extreme rage.

"Lady Cristin, please, I beg you, stop hitting me!" she sobbed, her entire body trembling like a fragile autumn leaf. "I'll take off your nightgown right now! I won't take over your job as the Treasury Overseer, either... Lord Collin only let me stay here temporarily because my son is sick and needs the dragon-flame energy of the sun-chamber. It's all my fault. Please, whatever you do, don't be angry with the Dragon Lord..."

She cried her heart out. However, as she buried her face in Collin's chest, she tilted her head slightly. From an angle Collin couldn't see at all, she looked at me through her fake tears and gave a vicious, triumphant smirk.

Collin only felt the trembling of the woman in his arms, and the gaze he shot at me instantly turned into icy daggers.

"Look at yourself, acting like a hysterical shrew, Cristin!" Collin snarled, his tone dripping with nauseating self-righteousness. "Ansley's father died to save my mother! Since you are to be my wife, this is a life debt we both owe her! Is it too much to ask you to show a little grace and make room for the orphan of our savior?!"

He glared down at me condescendingly, as if I were a petty, jealous monster.

"She is exhausted and frail from taking care of a sick child! You know my heart-scale contains pure draconic vitality! Wearing this nightgown helps heal her damaged meridians! You are perfectly healthy, what does it matter if you lend it to her for a few days to recover? It's just a piece of clothing! Are you so vicious that you'd rather watch her die?!"

He paused, his voice growing even colder. "And that Treasury job! As my future wife, you shouldn't even be lowering yourself to manage such trivial matters! I let her take over to give you a chance—a chance to show the entire Clan your mercy and generosity as the Dragon Lady! I was helping you build your authority! But you? Instead of appreciating my good intentions, you throw a tantrum over a spare room and a dress, embarrassing me in front of everyone! When did you become so narrow-minded and cold-blooded?!"

Listening to his incredibly absurd, gaslighting moral kidnapping, a cold, dead silence washed over me.

I swallowed hard and slowly pulled a silk handkerchief from my pocket. I meticulously wiped every single finger, as if I had just touched some infectious garbage, and then let the handkerchief flutter gently onto Ansley's trembling body.

Seeing my look of absolute disgust, Collin's fury was completely ignited.

"Pick it up!" he roared. His draconic pressure instantly doubled, slamming onto my shoulders like a mountain, attempting to force me to my knees. "Put away your disgusting arrogance! Pick up the handkerchief, get on your knees, and apologize to her until she forgives you!"

The immense pressure made my legs tremble, but I gritted my teeth and refused to yield a single inch.

"Apologize?" I spoke coldly. Bearing the brunt of that overwhelming aura, my voice was so flat it dropped the temperature in the corridor to freezing. "You once swore that heart-scale would rest against my heart to protect me forever. Yet now, you casually drape that very vow, along with my most intimate gift, over your mistress to heal her. You let her defile my sacred nest. Now, under the hypocritical guise of 'helping me build authority,' you want to hand over the job I worked so hard to earn to her. You trample my dignity underfoot to play the generous Lord, and you want me to kneel and apologize?"

Collin clenched his jaw, seemingly shocked that I could actually withstand his aura. "I told you, she's just a friend! Stop this insane, psychotic jealousy—"

"Keep the chamber," I cut him off, my voice as crisp as ice.

Collin froze. "What did you say?"

I didn't even blink, staring straight into his furious eyes. "I said, keep the chamber. Give her the job, too. And this parasite, you can keep her as well. I don't want any of this anymore. And I don't want you, either." I paused, letting my next words fall like shards of ice. "I want to dissolve the contract. I reject you as my mate."

A dead silence fell over the corridor. Ansley even forgot to continue her fake sobbing.

Collin stared dead into my eyes. A dozen complex emotions flashed across his face, finally settling into pure mockery and absolute disbelief. He let out a harsh, extremely impatient sneer.

"Dissolve the contract? Over a dress and a room, you're threatening me with rejection?" Collin scoffed, his voice laced with condescending pity and sarcasm. "Cristin, who do you think you're talking to? Without me, who do you think you are? Do you honestly think playing this cheap trick will force me to compromise? You have completely lost your mind!"

He turned his head, looking at the burly guards shifting uneasily at the end of the hall.

"The dragon within the Lady has gone feral and unstable," Collin issued a cold, cruel command. "Grab her and throw her into the Obsidian Tower! Lock her up for five days! Let her sober up in the cold, pitch-black darkness until she is cured of this madness and crawls out begging for my forgiveness!"

The Obsidian Tower was the Clan's maximum-security prison, specifically designed to isolate the clinically insane. The obsidian material would completely dampen a dragon's senses, enough to drive any sane person to the brink of madness.

The guards approached me cautiously. But I didn't struggle. I simply turned around and willingly walked toward that so-called prison.

Collin frowned, a flash of unease in his eyes, creeped out by my eerie calmness.

What Collin didn't know was that I had already been reborn.

In my past life, walking into this Obsidian Tower marked the beginning of my true nightmare.

During my five days of isolation, Ansley frantically spread rumors throughout the entire Clan that I had gone completely feral and turned into a dangerous lunatic.

By the time I got out, my reputation was completely ruined. The position of Treasury Overseer, which I had earned with my blood and sweat, was permanently handed over to Ansley.

Under her endless, hypocritical manipulation and secret psychological torment, I was completely isolated by the entire Clan.

Ultimately, after Ansley framed me as a "corrupted, feral dragon," I was dragged to the execution pyre by the outraged Clan, and I was condemned to die upon it—wrongly, cruelly, and alone.

In my final moments, I cried out for help while Collin was busy comforting a "frightened" Ansley and her sick son, turning a deaf ear to my desperate pleas.

A bone-deep hatred coiled around my heart like a poisonous vine, making it hard to breathe.

I walked into the Obsidian Tower, listening to the heavy iron lock turning. Clang.

Standing in the absolute darkness, a bone-chilling smirk curled the corners of my mouth.

In this life, I absolutely would not let that happen again.

Enjoy your last five days of peace, Collin. In five days, when I push this door open, I will personally shatter this disgusting bond. I will make sure you and your precious Ansley pay for every ounce of suffering you inflicted upon me!