Stolen by the Rebel King
Chapter 460: Falling to Ruin IV

Chapter 460: Falling to Ruin IV

Fear colored the blue of Daphne’s eyes in a way Atticus had never seen before. Even when she first arrived in Vramid, while she seemed afraid, there was still an edge of ferocity that lit up her eyes. Now, the seas were turbulent. Storms raged inside the sockets of her eyes, thundering with cries of sailors knowing that they were about to be drowned by nature’s wrath.

She looked as though she was someone who had just met the god of death right in the eye and was praying to be spared.

"Daphne..." Atticus said, her name rolling naturally off her tongue. However, every fiber of her body screamed to Atticus that she felt nothing but unsettled by his voice.

She continued to shake her head, her breaths turning so short that Atticus began to worry that she would start hyperventilating and henceforth go into shock.

"Daphne, breathe. It’s alright. I’m not going to hurt you," he assured, reaching out slowly to show that he meant no harm.

However, she was like a frightened animal. She ignored his words as though she couldn’t even understand them, continuing to stare at her with wide eyes and parted lips.

Atticus sighed. He took in a deep breath and squeezed his eyes shut, turning his face to the skies.

How did it all come to this?

Looking back, he sneered at Jean Nott’s dead body. Even in death, this ruffian was creating trouble for him. If he hadn’t said anything, Daphne wouldn’t react like this. Everything would’ve been alright. Atticus might even be able to tell her everything that was happening like she had wanted to know.

However, it seemed like she was far from offering a listening ear right now.

Atticus exhaled heavily and looked down at Daphne, frowning. It seemed like she wasn’t just in shock about Nereus and Zephyr’s stolen body parts. If he knew his wife — and Atticus would like to think that he did — Daphne definitely thought that Atticus was the reason why their child was dead when it was not the case.

Unfortunately, she definitely wasn’t about to accept whatever explanation Atticus might have right now. He doubted she could even understand the human language at this point.

At this point, Daphne was already mumbling to herself. She had tucked her knees in and was hugging her legs to her chest. She eyed Atticus, cautiously watching his every movement and backing away whenever he came too close. There was nothing else he could do.

He reached a hand out towards Daphne.

That was when her heart felt as though it stopped. Was he about to kill her now that he was done with Jean Nott? She wondered if everything was a lie all this time― his love, his affection, his care. Had it all been an act? Perhaps she was only useful because he needed Zephyr’s wing. Now that he had obtained it, he didn’t need her anymore.

Her heart was caught in her throat, her words lost to her as she helplessly watched Atticus’s eyes turn determined. They weren’t cold, per se, but they definitely did not hold any of the warmth that she so often saw in the gold of his irises while they were in their honeymoon phase.

Then, she saw nothing.

Atticus reached over and caught Daphne’s unconscious body before she could hit the floor. Magic faded from his fingertips, slowly fizzing into the air as he lifted her up.

By the time Jonah and Sirona finally came tumbling over, they were just in time to see Jean Nott’s detached head — still frozen in a smile — and Atticus with Daphne in his arms. Sirona immediately gasped, her eyes widening as she sucked in a breath of air through her teeth.

"Is she..." Jonah asked, his fingers clenched into fists by his sides.

"I had to put her to sleep temporarily," Atticus softly replied.

He gazed upon his wife, who in slumber, wore an expression of tranquility. She had lost all of the fear and panic that she wore on her sleeves just moments prior. Now, she looked just like every night they had shared together.

"She was starting to panic," Atticus explained. "Jean Nott told her about Zephyr and the baby."

"Shit," Jonah swore under his breath, running a hand through his hair. "What did he say?"

"Just that the baby is gone and that I took Zephyr’s wing," Atticus replied. "My guess is that she assumed she lost the child because of me."

"Well, you can’t take the fall for that!" Sirona gasped, angered. "We might owe it to him, but it was Zephyr’s fault regardless. You were completely unaware until..."

"Until it was too late," Atticus finished for her.

He held Daphne a little closer to his body; the warmth of her against his chest felt so comforting, especially since Atticus knew that once he let her go later, it might be a while before she would let him hold her in his arms again― if ever.

"Bring the head," Atticus ordered. "And look for Calarian. He ought to know that this man is dead."

"We’ll also need an explanation on what happened to his capital city," Jonah said with a sigh, looking around at their surroundings. Buildings had been flattened, trees were uprooted, and everything was torn apart. This looked like every other warzone and not one of the most prosperous kingdoms of the world.

"Jean Nott’s head will have to do as an apology gift," Atticus said. "That and our departure. We’ll head back to Reaweth at once. I’m sure the princes would appreciate having the ore sooner than later."

Sirona and Jonah exchanged a look, pursing their lips at the thought of ’later’. At that point in time, they would probably be making an enemy of the world, not just King Calarian. It would also be better to get out of his hair while dealing with the aftermath of Jean Nott’s revelation.

At least their original intentions of coming to Xahan had been fulfilled. All they knew was that when Daphne finally woke up — and she would — all hell would break loose.