The Devil's Son and His Fated Bride
Chapter 112: Deagara, the realm of the saints.

Chapter 112: Deagara, the realm of the saints.

"This is the land she spoke of!" Ren’s voice trembled with awe as she pointed to the terrain that stretched beyond the Ice Land’s frozen edge. "The Realm of the Saints... Why have I never heard of it before?"

"Yes, that’s it."

Kai narrowed his eyes, the name familiar yet stirring something ancient in his blood. He wasn’t sure how to start it. He turned to Agara with a tight nod.

"I owe you, for now, for saving that girl. But don’t mistake that for trust. Vampire manipulation isn’t a trick, it’s an art. One that leaves scars you can’t always see."

Ren’s brow furrowed as she stepped closer to him.

"I didn’t sense any enchantment on her. No magic. No pull. She was a pawn, yes, but I don’t think she’s under anyone’s influence anymore. I’d know. Ever since Dreamland... I can read the truth in people’s auras."

Her voice was quiet but steady, her gaze locked on his, willing him to believe her.

They had to start somewhere. And this forgotten land, shrouded in legend and silence, was as good a place as any.

"Fine!" Kai growled, turning to Agara again. "The girl, she was taken to that place. I don’t know what this Victor Keleemont intends, but I suspect he brought her there to poison her mind with a lie so she would trust him. What I do know is this, the Fae vampire... is our cousin. Acelieth."

Agara’s breath fastened in his lungs. His eyes widened as if he’d spoken a curse.

"Acelieth? That’s not possible. He was exiled, he didn’t inherit the Fae magic. And his mother... she was one of the king’s harem concubines and died ten years ago."

Ren blinked, head tilting with sudden interest.

"Wait... My Fae grandfather has a harem?"

"Your Fae grandfather?!" Rail sputtered, nearly choking on his disbelief.

It was time. They deserved to hear the truth, no more veils, no more masks. Kai’s snort cut through the tension as his wife boldly let the secret slip.

"What?" Ren huffed. "They need to know. I’m done hiding who I am."

Kai’s voice dropped, deadly calm.

"Fine. Tell them. But if a single word of this leaves this room..." He stepped closer, his eyes flashing with a warning. "I’ll kill them myself."

A sharp knock fractured the heavy silence that clung to the room like a hurricane waiting to break.

Kai didn’t turn. His gaze remained fixed on Ren.

"Come in, Coran. Join the show."

The door creaked open, and Coran stepped in, silent but alert. Ren’s words faltered on her tongue. She swallowed them back. Coran was loyal, unquestionably so, but he was still the heir of the Mountain Wolves and Elaika’s brother. One misstep, one wrongly spoken truth, could cost him everything.

"We’ll... leave this for later," she said, masking the weight behind her voice.

"There are more urgent matters to attend to."

Kai’s smirk stretched like a shadow across his face, amused by her restraint. The tension between them sparked in the air, fiery and strange. One day lovers, the next, locked in a cold war.

The others exchanged confused glances, clearly wondering what chaos brewed beneath the surface of the couple’s bond.

Kai turned away from Ren, addressing the room.

"As I was saying, the Fae vampire is your twelfth brother. Acelieth. Cast aside for lacking magic. That humiliation festered in him. Now, he seeks power... and vengeance against everyone who made him feel small."

"I never did that!" Agara snapped, his voice sharp with indignation.

"No, but your father, my dear uncle, and his perfect little crown prince certainly did," Kai countered, his tone icy, edged with long-buried resentment.

Coran stepped forward, his voice composure but urgent.

"That makes two of the Twelve Lords identified. One fell by Alpha Xander’s hand. Now we need the names of the remaining nine. If we’re to stop them, we must know who they are."

He unfolded a worn map and placed a sealed report beside it, pausing.

"The girl told me everything," he said at last, voice low with meaning.

Org, who had been silent till now, after reading the report threw it aside and crossed his arms.

"Good. Then, for the love of every god still watching, someone tells me what this cursed realm truly is. Why is it forbidden? Why did the Fae abandon it and call it cursed?" His voice cracked, not with fear, but fury. "Because I swear to the flames, I will take that smug bastard’s head. Acelieth stole one of our best’s life. Kamin was our brother."

Agara exhaled, the weight of memory dragging his shoulders.

"Then prepare to die next if you go after him like that."

His voice was quiet, but the caution in it was cold as steel, and added, "He was brilliant, even without magic. That mind of his, calculating, patient, and dangerously sharp. And now? Now he has the power to match it. You rush in fueled by anger, and you won’t return."

Org bared his canines, his jaw tight with the urge to unleash violence. Maybe it was time to show them strength. But before his rage could erupt, Arkilla reached out and nudged his arm, steadying him.

"I’ve read about him," she said softly. "In the Fae archives. He’s telling the truth. Acelieth wasn’t the only outcast prince... but he was the brightest."

"Then he must have a weakness." Org’s voice was a growl and dangerous.

"I’ll find it," Ren vowed, stepping forward with quiet resolve. "I’ll go to the Historian Tower tonight. There has to be a crack in his armor. One he can’t hide. I’ll make sure he pays for every drop of blood he’s spilled."

"Enough." Kai raised his voice slightly, cutting through the heat rising in the room.

"If you want to hear about this forbidden land, then listen, stop bickering."

"Please, tell us." Rail’s voice came quick and eager, barely restrained. The glint in his eyes was pure vengeance. If it were up to him, he’d hunt Acelieth alone, because a Lord without a head could no longer drain the living.

Kai turned to them, his voice shifting into something older, deeper, carrying the weight of memory and myth.

"This was the first land where humans and Fae lived as one. It began with four people... not born, but Fallen from the heavens themselves."

He paused, his jaw tightening with the bitterness of what came next.

"The first two were of the Al-Gathiran bloodline, my father, Axaxeal, and my uncle, Xakiel of the Winged Kin. The other two were sisters of the Separian lineage, Lillieth, the eldest, and Nimoieth, her younger sister. They belonged to the wingless kin."

Kai fell silent. The air thickened around him. The story that followed was cursed, and he hated to speak it aloud.

"Nimoieth, restless in the heavens, grew weary of divine stillness. She seduced the others with whispers of forbidden delight, tempting them to taste the fleeting pleasures of the mortal world. It worked, especially on her sister. Lillieth descended, draped in moonlight, and seduced my father not out of love, but to prove ecstasy could rival divinity. After that fevered night, my father, blinded by awe, confided in my uncle. He should’ve exposed the transgression and sounded the alarm. But he didn’t. He hesitated. And in that silence, Nimoieth and Lillieth wove their betrayal like a silken snare. Lillieth conceived. The heavens reeled. The gods of each realm convened and, in furious unity, severed the wings of Xakiel and Axaxeal. Stripped of their grace, they were cast down, exiled to the first land gifted to the Fallen. And from that cursed soil... Azrael was born. That land bears another name now, the cradle of damnation, the house where death drew its first breath... Deagara." Kai paused.

Silence choked the air. Faces drained of color. Even the shadows seemed to tremble.

"Do you have the strength," he asked, "to hear the rest?"

"Azrael..." Gloria’s voice cracked like ice under pressure. "The reaper who takes lives?"

"Not the reaper anymore," a deep voice rang out, smooth as obsidian. From behind the pillar, a tall, striking figure stepped into the light, eyes smoldering with ancient fire. "Hello, brother."

Ren felt a sharp twitch in her belly, a phantom echo. She knew that wasn’t the last time she had seen him. Not truly. He had stood beneath the blossoms in the garden of the Underworld, sneering as though saying, ’We’ll meet again.’ But why was he here, now?

"You speak a tale better left buried," the man said, his voice curling through the air like smoke. "And you know the danger, brother. To speak my name is to summon me."

Kai exhaled with a scoff, the corner of his mouth twitching as he met Ren’s stunned gaze, a silent confession written in his eyes, ’Yes, I summoned him.’

Ren’s chest tightened. Azrael’s presence in the waking world was heavier. Darker. And he bore an aura that was so palpable and suffocating. Like Kai’s, but woven with sorrow so pure, it churned with grief from the marrow of her bones. It begged her to sit, to fall apart, to weep without knowing why.

Her gaze swept to the others. Tears streamed silently down their cheeks.

"Why are you all crying?" she whispered, bewildered.

But she wasn’t the only one breathless. They all stood in awe, unaware of the trance they’d fallen into, drawn by the weight of Azrael’s grief, helpless against it.

"The better question, sister," Azrael said, eyes unreadable, his tone cool as dusk, "is why you are not."

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