Dungeon Break: A Royal Scandal by Unknown

Author:Unknown
Language: eng
Format: epub

Chapter 17 - Bat in the Bedroom

The bed creaked beneath Damien as he dropped onto it, boneless and spent.

Not just from the endless hours spent prepping for their first dungeon dive — grinding through dusty scrolls, sharpening weapons, trying to figure out what potions wouldn't turn their insides into soup — but from the kind of lingering, simmering exhaustion that only came from a long day of accidental teasing, and very purposeful flirting.

The kind of day that left a man sweaty, bruised, and humming under his skin for a release he hadn't quite gotten yet.

He’d meant to take a bath.

Had planned to.

But after Rinna and Irene had stolen the tub first, giggling like they were plotting something wicked behind a curtain of steam, Damien figured he’d just wait here.

Let them have their moment.

Maybe recover a sliver of stamina.

Besides…

They were all just going to get sweaty again anyway.

His eyes had just started to drift closed when —

Knock.

Soft.

Precise.

Almost shy.

Damien groaned and forced himself upright, barefoot on the cool wood floor, muscles complaining with every step.

He cracked open the door —

And there she was.

Lina.

Her cloak hung in tatters around her shoulders, the hem shredded like she'd run through thorns — or a battlefield. One arm was clutched tight around her ribs, blood smeared in a line too thin to be fatal but far too messy to ignore. Behind her, the edges of her wings peeked out — rumpled, twitching, as if even they couldn't decide whether to fight or flee.

Her breathing was shallow.

Her face? A mask of pure, razor-edged irritation.

And yet — she stood tall.

Composed.

Gorgeous in a way that should’ve been illegal.

“You look awful,” Damien muttered, already reaching for her.

Lina’s mouth curved into a faint, mocking smile.

“And yet, still hotter than most.”

He couldn’t even argue.

The moment his hand brushed her side, she sagged against him.

Weight warm.

Breath shaky.

Her skin burned under his fingers, fever-hot and humming with tension. Her hip brushed his side with every staggered step back into the room, each drag of her body tighter, closer, more dangerous.

She didn’t moan.

But she shuddered.

And gods, it made his pulse stutter.

He eased her onto the edge of the bed with the kind of care he usually reserved for cursed relics — or women far too dangerous to mishandle.

Peeling her shredded cloak away revealed the damage beneath.

Her leather bodysuit clung to her like a second skin, torn in places where blades had bitten too deep, exposing flashes of bruised flesh and angry red scratches.

Old scabs, half-hidden under cracked seams, told the story of older battles.

And beneath the battered leather — where it split and gaped — there was skin.

Slick with sweat.

Flushed with adrenaline.

Beautiful and fierce and so very real under his hands.

He ran a damp cloth along the blood-streaked curve of her waist, slow and careful.

Lina hissed between her teeth, her eyes flashing molten red for a heartbeat.

"Hold still," Damien murmured, voice low and rough.

"If I knew you’d touch me like this," Lina rasped back, her tone thick with playful grit, "I’d have gotten stabbed a lot sooner.

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