[BL] Alpha, You've Got the Wrong Mate! Chapter 286 — So Fiery

Sitting on the edge of his bed, his face clasped between both hands, Arav’s words replayed endlessly in Rihaan’s mind.

"We loved each other," he mumbled, his voice cracking.

He punched the pillar beside him, the loud thud echoing through the quiet room. His knuckles bruised almost imdiately. He wasn’t fragile—certainly not enough for a simple punch to injure him.

It ant only one thing: the blow had been a way to release the fury rising inside his chest. If it continued like this, he feared his heart might burst.

Tears slipped down his cheeks before he even noticed. He wiped them away quickly. He shouldn’t—couldn’t—cry over soone like Arav.

He had only known how to love. He never imagined he would be the one burned alive by it, never thought that all his hopes could be erased so fast.

Even so, from the ruins of his broken heart, tears continued to rise—tears he refused to let fall again.

He wished it were just a nightmare—one that would vanish the mont he awoke, one that would fade a few seconds after he regained consciousness.

But it didn’t.

None of it did.

It was all too real to deny.

His gaze darted toward the countless paintings hung on the walls. Paintings of Arav—ones he had made with his own hands. Even now, he knew that if he opened his closet, he would find the paint-stained clothes he had refused to discard. They were part of every mory, every painting he had ever crafted.

And all of those pictures shared one face.

One figure.

Arav.

They scread a single truth: that Rihaan loved him.

From every corner of his heart and soul, it had been real. For him, at least.

For all those mories to be proven a lie shattered Rihaan in a way he did not yet understand—because once the anger faded, only regret and pain remained.

"Mother," he whispered.

He needed to see the Queen—the very person who had kept telling him Arav was a gold digger. He had never believed her.

Yet now, with the facts laid bare before him, he could no longer dismiss them.

He needed to apologize—for being foolish, for ruining everything. To the point that his father had decided to retract his title as crown prince.

Springing to his feet, Rihaan rushed out of his room.

The hallways were already busy, servants moving back and forth, cleaning the fras and walls with ticulous care, ensuring not a speck of dust remained.

The Queen was a clean freak, rumours stated among the staff mbers, and neglecting such duties would earn a scolding, or worse, dismissal.

On his way to see the Queen, a hand appeared from the shadows and suddenly grabbed Rihaan’s arm, pulling him into a room.

Rihaan didn’t need to think twice. He already knew who it was just by the pheromones floating in the room—Arav.

The oga’s sweet, forest-like fragrance was one he could never fail to recognize. Although the scent that once soothed him now unsettled him, stirring a fire throughout his entire body.

"Why haven’t you left the palace yet? Don’t you have any sha?" Rihaan spat, his voice sharp, anger flaring as he looked at the man before him.

Arav lounged against the wall, an unfamiliar smirk tugging at his lips.

"Ah, so fiery," he mocked, tilting his head back against the wall. "Still clinging to pride, I see. It suits you... but it’s aningless, love. None of it will make love you. I never did."

Rihaan’s jaw tightened.

"Don’t. You. Dare. Call. . Love."

"I’m not dying to call you that either. All you ever had was your status," Arav continued, stepping closer.

"Nothing more. Let’s not forget that you lost that too. Twice. When you went to marry that prince, and now because you refused to marry him. So? What was I supposed to do?"

"Don’t speak about His Imperial Highness like that. He is far better than the likes of you," Rihaan tried to sound as harsh as he could, though the tremor beneath his voice lingered.

For a mont, there was a long pause before the oga continued.

"Hah. When I learned you were going to lose your title again, it struck . If not you... soone else would do just fine. You aren’t that special, after all. Never were. I just need the title of Crown Princess. Since you can’t give it to , what use do you have?"

Rihaan’s eyes turned red—from rage, betrayal, heartbreak. And all it took was Arav’s mocking tone for him to finally snap, the thin threads of patience he had left tearing apart.

"Really? I have no use?" he asked, his gaze sharpening, his expression darkening.

Arav nodded, folding his arms.

"You absolutely don’t," he chuckled.

"Guards!" Rihaan shouted imdiately. "Take him to the dungeons. Now!"

Arav’s eyes widened in disbelief—shock, confusion, fear all at once.

"W-What?" He forced a quiet laugh. "You’re joking, right?" he scoffed.

Rihaan glared at him. The atmosphere in the hall suddenly turned cold—freezing.

"Your Highness! You can’t do this!" Arav hissed. "You wouldn’t—"

But Rihaan didn’t listen to any of his words. The betrayal had stripped away every last shred of doubt.

He had loved Arav, trusted him, defended him against everyone—his family, the court, even his own instincts. And now...

Now, Arav dared to mock him, speak of him as nothing, lie to him.

Maybe what angered Rihaan the most was that he didn’t even bother trying to hide it.

"I love you," Arav whispered, stepping closer, his voice soft, trying to weave the sa old trap.

But Rihaan saw through it instantly.

There was no warmth in Arav’s eyes this ti.

No sincerity.

Only deceit.

Cold, sharp, and evident.

"And I hate you," Rihaan replied, his expression devoid of any emotion. It resembled nothing like the man who used to blush, whose gaze would soften upon hearing those lies.

Arav’s smirk faltered, replaced with sothing unfamiliar—fear.

"This ti," Rihaan said, his voice low as he leaned close to his ear, "I will not fall for your trap. I see you for what you truly are."

And the guards moved, pulling Arav toward the dungeons, while Rihaan remained standing, trembling but unbroken, the fire in his chest finally answering the lies with justice.

The oga cried Rihaan’s na over and over again. He had been so certain the prince would kneel, begging him not to leave.

He wasn’t supposed to react like this!... What went wrong?!

Arav clenched his teeth, biting his nails aggressively.

***

Rihaan reached the Queen’s chambers, heart pounding.

Fear, guilt, all crashed upon him at once, the weight unbearable. He needed to speak to soone, lighten his heart, even if just a little.

But the room was empty.

The Queen was nowhere to be seen. Only the faint scent of her perfu lingered, like a ghost that had built its own empire in the large hall.

He couldn’t go to his father.

Not now.

Not when the man’s anger was unpredictable, and dangerous. One wrong word, and he might be beaten again.

His shoulders slumped. His chest ached.

There was only one other person he could turn to. Only one person who might understand—or at least listen without judgnt.

Soren.

The thought brought a bitter laugh from his lips.

A prince reduced to seeking help from soone he wasn’t supposed to rely on.

A crown prince reduced to a beggar.

He shook his head, the laugh dying in his throat. Yet sohow, it felt fitting. Perhaps it was what he deserved—for loving blindly, for trusting Arav, for failing to see the truth until it burned him.

He straightened, swallowing his pride.

Beggar or not, he had no other choice.