The Devil's Son and His Fated Bride
Chapter 101: I feel your grief.

Chapter 101: I feel your grief.

As they emerged on the other side of the portal, Ren leaped from Kai’s arms, her eyes wide with terror. The once beautiful hills were ablaze, and the stench of burning flesh twisted her stomach. Smoke spiraled high into the sky... and yet she could see through it. Somehow, her vision pierced the haze, revealing the massacre hidden within the smoke that curled around them like a living thing.

Zaira, the woman from the training hall who had once urged her to take Arkilla down, was now cradling a wolf’s severed head, her grief raw and shaking. Nearby, Rail knelt in anguish, and from the look on his face, Ren didn’t need to ask. It was Kamin. Her heart pounded like the drums of a giant’s parade beyond the horizon. Even their giants had been wounded.

She had brought destruction to this land.

But why? Had her father, the King of Alvonia, struck a deal with Luther... only to break it?

She knew so many of the fallen, those who were slaughtered cruelly. She had dined beside them, watched their easy smiles, and seen them spar and prepare for battle, never imagining it would end in death. And, they were preparing for death only to bring peace to others. The light in her eyes dimmed. While she’d been distracted by so many other things, lives had slipped through her fingers. This land had bled. And those elders, the chiefs of Thegara... perhaps they were right. Did she truly deserve to be their Luna? To be their shining moon in these dark days, when death cast its shadow over them?

She had no time to question herself, no time to seek answers from Kai, or even to register the anguish in her husband’s voice as he barked orders in the background.

Then Arkilla’s hand settled on her shoulder. "Do you see what I see? Is that... Gloria?"

Ren sprinted toward the gate where stood her wounded maiden, Gloria, and little Dave beside Orgeve, all trying to assist Agara as he tended to the injured shifters.

Dropping to her knees beside a wounded Female Omega whose hand was barely hanging by a thin skin, Ren pressed her palm gently over the woman’s bloodied arm. The techniques her healing instructor once taught at the Summer Mansion of the Dreamland came flooding back, clear and sharp in her mind.

"I’m done!" the girl gasped, her body trembling. But Ren wouldn’t let her go. She’d lost a hand, not her life, not yet.

A white orb of light bloomed beneath Ren’s palm, wrapping the mangled limb in its glow. The girl screamed. Mending was agony, searing, soul-deep pain, but it couldn’t compare to the torment she was already enduring.

It took her five minutes to heal the girl. Her power flowed smoothly, so smoothly it startled even her. Without pausing, Ren moved from one wounded shifter to the next... until her gaze locked on a dying goblin. His chest rattled with shallow breaths, and crimson streaks circled his pupils like cracks in glass.

"Save me... I’ll serve you," he rasped.

Ren clenched her jaw, swallowing her rage. Tears welled in her eyes. This creature may have harmed countless shifters, but she needed him alive, for answers.

"Let him die, I can make it quick." Arkilla urged, her voice low and desperate, she unsheathed her dagger from the pod.

Ren shook her head, avoiding her. "Swear to your god you’ll serve me and stay loyal, and I’ll give you a new life."

"I... I swear to Axaxeal... god of the underworld... I’ll serve you..." His voice faded, too weak to finish, the blood loss draining what little life remained in his body.

Ren dropped to her knees and began mending the goblin’s stomach, torn open by a deep claw mark. It was a brutal wound, but not nearly as gruesome as the ones she’d just healed on the shifters.

Exhaustion tugged at her limbs. Fae healing magic was powerful, but not limitless, it drained stamina with every use. If she pushed any further, the magic could burn her from the inside out.

As she sealed the goblin’s wound, Arkilla stepped forward and struck him across the head, knocking him out cold.

"Was that necessary?" Ren scolded, breathless.

"Yes. You never know when they’ll stab you in the back," Arkilla muttered, unrepentant.

Ren turned and called out to Calisa and the nearby shifters, instructing them to shackle the goblin and lock him in the dungeons. They obeyed at once. They didn’t argue because there was no time. Everything demanded swift, precise action.

"Stop healing them," Arkilla begged.

Her breath came in shallow gasps, sweat trickling down her temple. Soot darkened her face, and her eyes scanned the battlefield, searching for her husband.

She found him on the far side of the burning hill, carrying the headless body of a wolf.

"They must be burned with respect," Arkilla said softly, following the side she was looking at, "not like sinners incinerated by dragon fire."

"Yes," Ren agreed. "Did you check on Gloria?"

"She’s stable. Master Agara healed her completely. But... she’s shaken. She witnessed the brutal deaths of our soldiers and her driver. She’s gentle, and this will scar her deeply."

Ren heard the sorrow woven through Arkilla’s voice. But it wasn’t about softness. Pain like this left no one untouched, and the worst of it was still coming.

By midnight, they had gathered enough wood and lumber to give a proper farewell to the soldiers whose bodies hadn’t been lost to dragon fire. The funeral was always too heavy to tolerate.

Kai and his men stepped forward, torches in hand, and set the pyres alight. As the flames rose, Ren’s tears fell freely. Wolves howled. Felines roared. And the rest of the shifters raised their voices in song, mourning the fallen. She had awakened from one nightmare only to step into another.

After they returned to their chambers, Kai prepared warm water for her to wash away the blood and soot clinging to her skin. But she scrubbed herself so hard, it looked like she was trying to erase the very memory of the battlefield. He reached out, gently caught her wrist, and pulled her into his arms.

"I can feel your sorrow," he whispered.

No, he couldn’t... not really. He could sense flickers of her emotions through their bond, but not the full weight of it, not the guilt gnawing at her mind like rot. He didn’t know about the deal she’d made with his father, and she had no intention of telling him. No hints. No clues. This burden was hers alone to carry.

She had to protect them. Everyone. And now, she bore the cost of her father’s mistakes, mistakes that had brought devastation upon so many. She wouldn’t make the same ones.

Kai gently stroked her back. "King Benkin is calling a summit next week. He invited all the rulers and high officials of the Seven Kingdoms. As his ally, we’re expected to attend. It’s urgent, for all of us."

"I hate him," she muttered.

That was all she said. Did she even mean it? Was she certain of how she felt?

No.

She had spent her life wishing Uncle Benkin were her real father, but now that the truth had come out and he was, she couldn’t bring herself to accept it. The world was cruel in its irony. And fate... fate was just being a bastard, an absolute dick when she felt the slightest happiness...

"Should I go alone?" Kai asked quietly, though he was silently praying she’d come with him. She knew those people better than he ever could.

But still, she hesitated.

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