Please get me out of this BL novel...I'm straight! novel Chapter 79

Chapter 79: ’And It’s...!’

Arthur crouched beside him, reaching out and yanking his head up by his hair. Florian grit his teeth against the burst of pain, glaring up at him through blurred vision.

Arthur smirked, his golden eyes gleaming with twisted satisfaction. "You’re pathetic, you know that?" He leaned in, voice dropping to a whisper. "Just lay down and die already."

Florian spat blood at him.

Arthur snarled, his grip tightening. "You little—"

Before he could finish, a boot connected with Florian’s ribs, sending him sprawling onto his side. Pain exploded through his torso, his breath stolen by the brutal impact. He curled in on himself instinctively, gasping, choking, his vision flashing white from the sheer agony.

More kicks followed, merciless and unrelenting. His body jerked with every impact, his mind growing hazy.

His thoughts flickered, disjointed and fading.

’Not like this...’

Florian’s entire body trembled, every inch of him slick with blood, sweat, and dirt. His breath came in ragged, shallow gasps, each one sending fresh pain stabbing through his ribs like shards of glass.

His limbs were numb, shaking from exertion, but he forced himself to move—dragging himself forward by sheer will alone. His fingers dug into the cold, unyielding forest floor, nails scraping against rough stone and tangled roots, leaving behind streaks of blood as he clawed his way through the damp earth.

A desperate, feeble escape.

Laughter rang behind him, cruel and mocking.

"Still trying, little prince?" Charles’s voice cut through the night like a blade. "How cute." _{fгeewёbnoѵel.cσm}

The crunch of boots grew closer, and dread curled around Florian’s gut like a vice.

"Let me help you with that."

Before he could react, Arthur’s hand clamped onto his ankle. A sharp yank sent Florian’s body skidding backward, his chest scraping against jagged stones and twisted roots. He choked on a cry as pain flared through his battered body. His nails cracked as he clawed at the dirt, but it was futile. Arthur’s grip was ironclad.

Arthur’s laughter was sick with amusement. "Time to put on a show, boys."

The other rogues gathered, a pack of hungry wolves circling their wounded prey. Their eyes glowed with sick anticipation as Arthur hauled Florian back toward the group.

"I think it’s time we break our little prince."

Florian thrashed, weak but unyielding. His muscles screamed, his lungs burned, but he spat out through gritted teeth, "Get... off..." Blood dribbled down his lips, staining his chin.

Arthur crouched, his breath hot and rancid against Florian’s ear. "Oh, I intend to get a lot more than that."

Florian’s stomach turned, nausea clawing up his throat. But through the haze of pain and exhaustion, his lips curled into a hoarse, bloody smirk. His laughter was bitter, wheezing, but filled with venom. "Even now, you’re still thinking about sex? You’re disgusting, Arthur. Despicable."

Arthur’s grin twitched, a flicker of irritation breaking through his amusement. Before he could respond, a brutal slap cracked across Florian’s face, snapping his head to the side. Stars burst in his vision, his cheek flaring with raw, stinging heat.

Charles loomed above him, his expression twisted in fury. "You nobles think you’re untouchable, don’t you?" he spat. "You get money, power—everything handed to you while we rot in the gutters! The king has abandoned his people, and you—" He jabbed a finger at Florian’s chest. "The least you can do is sit there and let us do our job."

No. No. No.

’Not again. Please, not again.’

’I won’t break. I won’t—’