Stolen by the Rebel King
Chapter 257: Winged Angel IV

Chapter 257: Winged Angel IV

Jonah’s eyes widened in shock. No wonder the dragon was still flying around causing havoc. Atticus had somehow failed to kill it.

"I’m fine," Atticus called out. "Don’t worry."

"I’m sure," Sirona said darkly in response to Atticus’s words before addressing Daphne. "Where are the both of you? Can the both of you make it to the eastern outskirts? I’m with the rest of the evacuated townspeople."

"Atticus can’t walk. We need you to come to us!"

Sirona cursed. "Where are you?"

"We’re..." Daphne gingerly peered past the building. To her dismay, she couldn’t make out where they had ended up. The streets were already wrecked and all possible landmarks were destroyed beyond recognition. "We’ll get Zephyr to fly you over."

"Excuse me? You mean to guide me, right?" Sirona asked suspiciously. The griffin could be an adequate guide, but there was no way its little wings could support her.

"It’s hard to explain, but he looks like a human with wings," Daphne said. "He’ll bring you to us!"

"What on earth?" Sirona exclaimed.

"I’ll get you and bring you to them," a tenor voice said.

Sirona’s eyes widened at the new unfamiliar voice. She had half a thought that Daphne might be joking but hearing an unfamiliar man speak in the background had Sirona questioning everything she ever knew.

He continued, "You have nothing to worry about, Lady Sirona!"

"Who on earth is that?" Sirona demanded.

"That was Zephyr," Daphne said, "You’ll recognize him when you see him."

"And he should be on his way now," Atticus said, his hint more than obvious.

Zephyr rolled his eyes and took to the skies in the direction of the evacuees, making sure to avoid the dragon’s attention by flying high enough to hide in the clouds. Once he was gone, Atticus carefully looked over Daphne.

"Are you alright?"

"I’m not the one who got hit by a dragon," Daphne scolded. "You shouldn’t have been distracted."

"Well, it’s not every day I find my wife in the arms of a flying man," Atticus groused. He wanted to get up, but his ribs still hurt. "A lesser man would have assumed he died and went to heaven. How did this evolution even happen? Do we stick him over a campfire now and grill him if we want him to grow?"

"Your guess is as good as mine." Daphne shrugged tiredly as she sank to her knees, gently brushing the hair out of Atticus’s eyes. It was matted with sweat and soot, but Daphne was simply thankful that there was no blood. If Atticus had been hit on the head, there might be no saving him.

"You should worry more about yourself," Daphne continued.

"I’ve had worse," he said. "There was a forcefield of magic around me. I wouldn’t have died."

"I find that hard to believe," Daphne said wryly.

Atticus could only laugh weakly to himself. His wife had no idea about the troubles in his past, and he intended to keep it that way. There were too many layers to peel off and even if Daphne had gone through her own battles, they were miles away from what Atticus had experienced since childhood.

"So... tell me about your day?" Atticus asked hopefully. "You were doing a great job rescuing the townspeople."

Daphne’s eyelid twitched in annoyance. He should perfectly know how her day went, with how he had left her sitting there like an idiot after breakfast. Besides, what happened to keeping in mind the time and place? This was hardly the time for small talk!

"How about you tell me why you wanted to stay longer in Reaweth?" Daphne countered. "Don’t tell me you have fallen for my half-sister."

"I would rather be eaten by the dragon," Atticus replied with mock horror, squeezing Daphne’s hand. "But... I thought it would be nice to see the kingdom you grew up in. You did not have many happy memories of this place, but now that I’m here, I can change that," Atticus said confidently. "Besides, we can use the spare time to punish your tormentors and leave them groveling for forgiveness at your feet."

Daphne gave him a watery smile, touched by his words. To think Atticus was hoping to rewrite her unhappy past!

"Of course, I also want to capture Jean Nott," Atticus confessed, more quietly this time as he stared gravely into Daphne’s eyes. "He’s still on the loose. I bet he had something to do with today’s dragon attack. This was simply too much of a coincidence."

Daphne’s mouth fell open, and a chill ran down her spine at Atticus’s words. A heavy silence befell them, and she couldn’t help but look around frantically, as though Jean Nott was hiding around the corner waiting to ambush them. She gently helped Atticus sit up against the wall, while she huddled next to him, keeping a wary guard.

The tense silence remained, and Daphne was so close to biting her own nails in anxiety, wondering if Zephyr had managed to fetch Sirona. Thankfully, Zephyr eventually returned with Sirona in his arms. It was hard for Daphne to gauge which one looked unhappier about their circumstances.

"You!" Sirona hissed as she glared hotly at Atticus, her hands glowing as she immediately got to work, "Do you aim to frighten me to death!"

"You told me to fight the dragon earlier," Atticus whined petulantly, "So technically this is your fault! Besides, didn’t I tell you and Jonah to look for Daphne? If you two had found her instead of letting this overgrown chicken fly her across town, this wouldn’t have happened― ow ow ow Daphne! Sirona is bullying me!"

Sirona rolled her eyes as she focused on fixing his ribs, making sure to use just a bit more magical force than necessary.

"Poor baby," Daphne said unsympathetically.

"Poor me, more like," Zephyr complained. "I’m so tired and hungry. I want to eat meat."

To Daphne’s surprise, Zephyr’s wings looked a lot smaller than before. It previously dragged across the floor when he walked but now, the tips of his wings barely grazed his ankles.

Could this mean that his transformation wasn’t permanent?

"Zephyr, you’ve done a good job. You should rest now. We won’t need you to fly," Daphne instructed. If Zephyr could not hold his current form, it would spell death for anyone he tried to carry, and it would make him an easy target to capture too.

"I can help!" Zephyr insisted, "I just need rest. Lady Sirona, can you heal me too?"

"You’re not even injured, I don’t even know what happened to you," was Sirona’s blunt reply, her brow furrowed as she focused on Atticus.

She did her best and Atticus would recover― assuming the dragon didn’t give him another whack on the head. She handed Atticus a bag of herbs for him to chew to replenish his strength, and chew he did.

Soon, Atticus was as recovered as he would ever be. He got up and stretched, his face still a tad too pale for Daphne’s liking, but at least he wasn’t wincing with every step.

"Try not to die this time," Sirona said encouragingly, "Necromancy is out of my skill level."

"No need to worry," Atticus’s eyes glinted maliciously as he watched the dragon flying overhead, emboldened by the lack of competitors. "I won’t make the same mistake twice."

He stretched his arms, moving it around in a circular motion before a glow of purple quickly surrounded him.

"Sunshine, a kiss for good luck?" Atticus asked jokingly.

Daphne grabbed Atticus’s face fiercely and kissed him right on the lips.