Crossing the Border (Rania) novel Chapter 242

**He Asked Me to Leave My Dreams, So I Decided to Make Him One of Them by Mira Lorian**
**Chapter 242**

A king, by all rights, should never bow his head to anyone, yet in this moment, Maximus was stripped of his regal title. He was not a king; he was merely a man, vulnerable and exposed.

As he sank to his knees, it was not in submission to Elder Gallant’s command but as an act of devotion for Rania. This gesture was a testament to his love, a silent declaration that she meant more to him than the crown he wore.

The air around them crackled with a strange energy, and the onlookers erupted into raucous laughter. Their fear of the king had evaporated, replaced by a sense of glee at his humiliation.

“I’ve never seen a king kneel before! I bet my own king never even bowed in his last moments!” one of the Barlukan warriors guffawed, his voice laced with mockery. “Is this what you call your king? A madman who’s an embarrassment to the throne!”

Elder Gallant’s lips curled into a sinister smirk, relishing the spectacle before him.

“You’ve ruled this kingdom long enough, Maximus. It’s time for you to rest,” he declared, his tone dripping with false sympathy. “You’ve shed so much blood over the years. This is it. This is the end for you.” He patted Ronan on the shoulder, a gesture of camaraderie that felt like a knife twisting in Maximus’s gut. “You’ve made the right choice.”

Eric, driven by a sense of urgency, stepped forward to confront Elder Gallant. “You must keep your promise,” he insisted, his voice steady but laced with tension.

“I will,” Elder Gallant replied, nodding with an air of false wisdom. “I will return your kingdom to you.”

Maximus couldn’t help but snicker at the absurdity of the Elder’s words, as if a child had just told an outrageous lie. This reaction did not sit well with Elder Gallant, whose expression darkened.

“You’re foolish to believe that,” he spat, his eyes narrowing with contempt.

Eric’s face twisted with anger as he advanced toward Maximus, his healthy arm swinging with all its might. The punch landed squarely on the king’s face, but Maximus remained steadfast, refusing to retaliate.

‘Fight back!’ Rania screamed in her mind, panic flooding her thoughts. If Maximus didn’t stand his ground, he was as good as dead. “They will kill you! Fight back!”

Desperation clawed at her heart. She knew Maximus had the strength to take them all on; the only thing holding him back was her.

‘Please, fight back…’

It was unbearable for Rania to witness her king, her mate, kneeling before those who sought to humiliate him. He was a king! He should never have allowed them to treat him this way.

The tension escalated as the warriors plotted their next move, intent on further degrading Maximus before delivering the final blow.

Seeing the king’s compliance, Elder Gallant’s eyes gleamed with malice. “Beat him up,” he commanded, his voice cold and calculating. “Beat him to death. A tyrant like him doesn’t deserve an honorable demise.”

A wave of hesitation washed over the warriors at the Elder’s command, but the thrill of violence beckoned them.

‘Please, fight back! Please, Maximus! FIGHT BACK!’

Rania’s heart raced as she fought against Ronan’s grip, which held her captive. She repeated her pleas, but Maximus merely smiled at her, a calm expression masking the storm within.

“Don’t worry, close your eyes,” he urged, as seven warriors encircled him like vultures. “Close your eyes,” he insisted softly.

But how could Rania turn away from the agony her mate was enduring?

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