Trampled and Broken (Completed Main Story) - Chapter 39
He found the tiny woman before his eyes amusing.
How could she possibly know what fate awaited her, yet still put on such a show of bravado?
Yet Hestia showed no fear at all and kept gazing up at him.
But when Aslan still refused to budge from his looming stance, she let out a light sigh.
“……!”
Aslan’s eyes widened.
It was because Hestia had stretched out both arms and wrapped them around the back of his neck.
When she pulled, Aslan’s head dropped limply downward with almost no resistance.
In truth, he could have resisted. All it would have taken was the slightest tension in his neck to hold firm.
Yet he chose not to.
Helplessly, he simply let himself be pulled along, as if it were his destiny.
Hestia’s faint breath tickled his skin—their faces were now so close.
In this position, even the slightest movement would surely cause their skin to brush against each other.
And in that state, Hestia kept provoking him.
Yet her voice no longer reached Aslan’s ears.
His golden irises darkened deeply, and he stared fixedly only at Hestia’s pink lips, which recklessly kept trying to incite him without understanding the danger.
Aslan wanted to devour her lips.
He wanted to silence that infuriating mouth—constantly scratching at his nerves—and swallow everything whole.
Unaware of how tenuously he clung to the last thread of reason, she continued to provoke him.
“It’s just that you looked cowardly. I thought this might help.”
At Hestia’s words, Aslan heard something snap inside his head.
A cold, mocking laugh slipped through his lips.
“How utterly reckless.”
Aslan growled the words, finally revealing the raw emotion he had been suppressing with sheer patience.
He reached out, and the ribbon tied at Hestia’s dress came undone effortlessly.
“Consider this a warning—I won’t stop halfway.”
“That’s exactly what I hoped for.”
She smiled brightly.
“We’ll see how long you can stay so composed and confident.”
At that sight, Aslan’s mood twisted sourly.
“You offered me your final moment, so I’ll gladly accept. If I can kill you with my own hands, it’ll be worth my while.”
“…….”
“From now on, your life belongs to me. So don’t you dare think of dying on your own terms.”
“……Understood.”
The moment Hestia finished speaking, Aslan tilted his head slightly and devoured her whole.
Yet the more he consumed her, the thirstier he became—it felt impossible to quench.
Only after a long, relentless kiss did their lips finally part.
Aslan looked down at Hestia again and spoke in a hoarse voice.
“I’m going to trample you and break you.”
“……If that’s what you desire.”
Unlike her feverish eyes, she was smiling.
‘Just who is this woman?’
Aslan’s fists clenched tightly.
Why did she remain so indifferent about everything?
He exhaled a heavy, drawn-out breath.
This suffocating feeling in his chest was his burden alone.
Thinking this, heat surged through Aslan.
What am I to this woman’s life?
‘Could I possibly leave any mark—any trace—behind?’
Though her face was flushed from lack of breath, Hestia reluctantly opened her mouth.
“I’ll give you my last moment.”
He wanted to leave a mark on Hestia—deep, very deep.
Just as she had done to him, he too wished to remain unforgettable to her, branded as an indelible scar.
Their relationship had already been shattered beyond repair long ago.
Apparently, she knew that as well.
“What you want from me is exactly this, isn’t it? Take it. I’ll die for you anytime.”
Aslan’s reason snapped.
“Then wither away by my side.”
He swept Hestia up fiercely.
Even as her reddened eyes welled with tears, she fanned his desire with soft moans.
Aslan gritted his teeth.
His twisted possessiveness could no longer be suppressed.
He wanted to crush Hestia’s pride.
‘If this is a method, then so be it.’
He had always wanted revenge.
On this woman who had ruined the precious Kalati.
His resolve never to associate with her again had changed.
Thus, for the first time, Aslan altered his decision.
‘I’ll take her for myself.’
He couldn’t hand her over to anyone else.
She—this woman—was his.
Once his mind was made up, justification came surprisingly quickly.
It wouldn’t be so bad.
Breaking the wings of a small silver bird trying to escape its cages—the temple and the palace—and locking it in his own cage.
Perhaps that, too, would be sufficient revenge.
He would take her to Kalati, the very name that terrified the Southerners, and make her spend the rest of her life there.
He would never let her go—not until death.
The once-stiff sheets gradually lost their tension and grew limp.
Her skin, once pale and bloodless, now flushed like blooming peach blossoms as blood returned to her cheeks.
Hestia gasped for air, given no chance to catch her breath.
It was harder than she’d expected.
Through tear-blurred vision, she saw Aslan’s face.
Aside from that first kiss marking the beginning of their union, he hadn’t kissed her again.
‘……Why?’
As if hearing her thoughts, their eyes met.
His golden eyes gleamed coldly.
“You can’t even handle it.”
Aslan sneered with an air of ease.
Hestia couldn’t understand why she alone struggled so much.
On impulse, she dug her nails in, trying to wound him.
It was a petty act of defiance, yet his tough skin wouldn’t even yield a scratch.
“Seems you still have energy to spare.”
They clawed at each other as if wanting to inflict wounds, yet at times gently soothed the marks they’d made—thus the night deepened.
Drenched in endless indulgence.
[This is the timeline separator]Aslan looked down at Hestia, who had collapsed into sleep, with an emotionless gaze.
Though the moon had long since hidden behind clouds, Hestia’s body shone dazzlingly white.
Aslan, silently observing the traces he’d left on her, pulled the blanket up to her neck when she shivered and curled inward.
No matter how many times he held her, he couldn’t understand why the heat within him refused to fade and his desire remained unquenched.
Aslan simply couldn’t grasp the reason.
With great effort, Aslan tore his gaze away from Hestia and quietly rose to his feet.
The moment he stepped out, dressed and ready to leave, he flinched—uncharacteristically startled.
Dean stood right outside the door, his eyes bloodshot.
Worried Dean might glimpse inside, Aslan quickly shut the door and glared at his aide with a scowl.
“Are you insane? Why are you standing here?”
Dean looked at Aslan with clear resentment in his eyes.
“If I were you, would I be standing here?”
“…….”
Aslan said nothing.
But the displeasure in his furrowed brow was impossible to hide.
Knowing Dean wouldn’t budge until he got an answer, Aslan swallowed a sigh and spoke.
“Let’s move somewhere else first.”
“What could you possibly have to say that can’t be said right here?”
At his subordinate’s unrestrained complaint, Aslan scowled deeply and snapped back.
“Are you a pervert? Do I really need to spell it out?”
“My lord.”
“If you want to hear what I have to say, follow me. Otherwise, stay right there.”
Aslan walked off without another word, and Dean reluctantly followed, scratching the back of his head.
Once they reached the study, Martin was already there.
“My lord.”
“What’s so urgent that you had to come at this hour of night?”
Muttering under his breath, Aslan immediately called for Robert as soon as he sat down.
“Yes, my lord. You called?”
“Send someone to the palace. There’s a handmaiden who attends to the princess—bring her here at once.”
Robert looked bewildered and asked again.
“Pardon? At this hour?”
Aslan’s face darkened instantly.
“Why is everyone making me repeat myself today? Is there or isn’t there a maid attending to the princess in this mansion? If not, go fetch her.”
“A-ah, yes….”
Much could be read between the lines.
The old butler’s face paled, and for the first time, he answered in a trembling voice.
Knowing full well the butler was rattled, Aslan pressed on impatiently.
“As quickly as possible—before the princess wakes.”
“Yes, my lord. Right away.”
Robert, barely holding himself together, bowed respectfully and left the study.
Next came Dean’s turn. He finally spoke, as if he’d been holding it in for ages.
“What on earth did you mean back at the evening banquet? I must have misheard, right?”
“…….”
“Even though I only had two drinks, surely I got drunk faster than usual from the expensive wine and imagined things, right?”
But Aslan remained silent.
Dean grew even more agitated and raised his voice insistently.
“My lord! Please say something! Nothing happened in there, did it?”
“Lower your voice. No one here is deaf.”
Aslan finally answered, his voice low and strained, his brow furrowed.
But Dean couldn’t hide his anger—and Aslan didn’t reprimand him for his rudeness.
After all, Dean was also a victim—he’d lost his fiancée to the Hanseatic League.
“What are you going to do! What’s your plan!”
“…….”
Dean took a deep breath to calm himself, then grabbed his own head in frustration.
“My lord, then let me ask just one more thing. You haven’t forgotten who that woman really is, have you?”
“How could I forget?”
Aslan replied with a calm expression.
Though his tone barely changed, the sudden chill in the air made it clear his mood had plummeted.
Martin, who noticed Aslan’s foul mood first, elbowed Dean in the ribs.
But Dean, lacking subtlety, failed to catch the hint and raised his voice again.
“Then why didn’t you just—!”
“Shut your mouth, Dean Felton.”
Aslan’s sharp gaze shot toward him like an arrow.
“Don’t you dare speak of her so carelessly.”
It was a warning.
Not the kind a superior gives a subordinate—but the warning of a beast protecting what was his.
Male lead is a Love-Obsessed Merman
When he discovers she has gone, he risks everything to pursue her on land, enduring agonizing pain to transform his tail into human legs…
One-line summary: Male lead chases female lead. The male lead’s love is a bit sick, an invincible love brain.
Synopsis
During a voyage at sea, Jiang Yang accidentally captures a merman.
Servant: I heard that mermen are fierce and brutal.
Jiang Yang looks at the merman obediently rubbing her palm like a puppy: “You call this fierce and brutal?”
Servant: I heard that mermen have no human nature.
Jiang Yang looks at the merman with wet puppy eyes, obsessively calling her ‘A Yang’ like a childish infant: “You call this having no human nature?”
With great difficulty, she releases the merman back into the sea and returns to shore.
Who would have thought that in less than half a month, the merman, who should have been freely wandering in the South China Sea, would shed his scales, endure the pain of losing his tail, transform into human legs, and come ashore to find her?
He kneels at her feet, rubbing her palm, with merman tears rolling down: “A Yang, don’t abandon me.”
_____
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