The Devil's Son and His Fated Bride
Chapter 162: Explain it!

Chapter 162: Explain it!

Ren’s tears burned behind her eyes as fear and sorrow dressed tightly around her chest. She had never seen a raw cracked spine before, especially not like this. Her adorable Gloria, her sweet maid who had always been more than a sister, now lay shattered.

"Hang in there, Gloria. Please, I’m begging you."

Arkilla was frantic. She watched her Queen struggle, pouring every ounce of will into healing, though her power trembled and faltered. Sweat gathered on Her Highness’ brows. The Queen wasn’t strong enough yet to mend a wound like this. And with Master Agara injured and unable to help, who could? No one, not even a skilled Fae healer, could reverse the damage this severe. Yet somehow, Gloria had walked there, to the Spike. Rail had said she pushed herself, dragging her broken body to catch the Spike.

"My Queen, you have to let her go!" Arkilla pleaded, voice tight with helplessness. This was killing her Luna.

"No. She’s still breathing. It’s just a crack, her spinal cord is intact. I cannot give up on her."

Arkilla bit down on the inside of her cheek, sorrow shadowing her face. Gloria had already lost too much blood. Even if the spine healed... would she ever open her eyes again?

Ren let out a raw, guttural scream, her voice cracking as she pleaded with Gloria. "I can’t lose you. Fight it, fight whatever the hell tried to take you from me!"

Arkilla lowered her head, unable to hold back her tears.

Then, golden light twinkled.

The moment Ren’s eyes fluttered open, golden sparkles shimmered from Gloria’s lifeless body, wrapping around her wounds like threads of divinity. A streak of Ren’s light power surged forward, drawn to the ancient force that had suddenly awakened within Gloria. The two energies intertwined, sacred, furious, healing. If Gloria had been conscious, the pain would’ve been unbearable. This was no gentle mending, it was divine torment, the kind that felt like the gods themselves were tearing her apart only to stitch her back together.

Flesh reformed. Bones realigned. The cracked spine slowly fused. Ren could feel it, Gloria’s heartbeat was stabilizing, no longer fluttering between life and death.

"She had lost too much blood. We need potions, now! Killa, hurry!"

Moments later, Master Agara appeared beside her, his leather medical satchel already open. Dozens of glass vials clinked within, glinting under the flickering candlelight. He grabbed the strongest one, uncorked it with practiced hands, and let two drops fall gently into Gloria’s mouth.

"This will help replenish her blood. Give her another dose every two hours," Master Agara instructed, handing the vial to Rail, whose hands trembled with concern.

Then his eyes shifted to Ren. She still hadn’t looked at him, not even once. The fury in her silence was deafening.

"Please come to the King’s study. We need to speak," Agara said carefully.

Ren arched a brow, her expression was as stern as the sharp edges of rocks.

"Isn’t it a little too late for that?" she snapped. "If that sacred, god-sent power hadn’t entered her body, she’d be dead. I’d be mourning her right now."

"But you’re not," Agara replied, as calm as ever. He was always like this, unshaken, emotion locked beneath the surface. The moment a life was saved, he turned to ice and didn’t care about anything else.

Ren didn’t want to argue in front of Gloria. Not here. Not while her friend clung to the thread of life. She rose to her feet, her movements harsh with restrained rage.

"You people better have a damn good reason for putting her life at such a reckless risk," she said through clenched teeth.

She turned on her heel and strode away without waiting for Agara to follow. She knew the way too well, how could she not? It was the same study where her once-uncle, then revealed to be her father, used to read her bedtime stories.

So ironic. Back then, no one had questioned why the King paid her so much attention. If they had, the answer was always the same: She’s the heir to the Seven Kingdoms.

Of course, the King doted on her. Of course, he loved her.

Because he could never father a child. The infertile King.

In the study, Azrael stood silently in the corner, nothing like the distressed, calculating devil who had proposed this plan.

And Ren had no doubt he was the mastermind behind it all. She couldn’t forgive any of them.

While she’d been worrying herself sick over Kaisun, Beta Coran and the others had fed her lies. But none of their betrayals cut as deep as his. Kaisun had promised her honesty, sworn it to her. And yet, he had stood by and allowed this. Allowing them to coerce Gloria into sacrificing herself. Worse, he was a part of this sick plan.

"I heard you," Ren said sharply, her voice slicing through the heavy silence. "You called her ’Cousin.’ How is Gloria, my cousin?"

It was the only question she cared about at that moment, the only truth she demanded. Her eyes locked onto Azrael, giving out a cold, unforgiving, and certain aura. She didn’t need to guess who was behind this mess. Azrael had conveniently vanished under the guise of investigating the immortal weapon, and after that, everyone else had disappeared like smoke.

"Yes," he replied coolly. "She’s your cousin. The lost daughter of Alekin D’Orient, Princess. What? Are you going to blame me for that too?"

Ren froze. Her breath caught. She didn’t speak, but inside, a storm was raging. Gloria? My cousin? The missing daughter? The girl I was dying to find, praying she was alive?

She cursed him silently. Why couldn’t he just let her process this? Why did he always have to drop truths like weapons?

"I didn’t say I’m blaming you," she shot back, her voice strong and tight.

Azrael snorted. "You don’t need to say it. I can see it all over your face. But for the record, it was your husband’s idea not to tell you. Seems like you’re always so eager to save everyone else, that you forget to care about yourself." His tone was maddeningly casual.

Kaisun’s fists clenched at his sides. He was ready to wipe that smug look off his brother’s face, but he held his composure, barely.

Ren severed their bond link with a sharp snap. ’Why?’ she asked him silently, rage simmering beneath her words.

’Because I wanted you to have some peace, for gods’ sake,’ Kaisun replied, his gaze soft so unbearably kind it made her chest ache.

’We’ll talk about it later, she warned.’

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