The Devil's Son and His Fated Bride
Chapter 67: Shamelessness has no limits

Chapter 67: Shamelessness has no limits

Ren examined each woman carefully, noting the distinct clothing that represented their customs and traditions or the type of their morality. The Serpent females adorned themselves in delicate fabrics, lace, and sheer materials, revealed their bodies, and left little to the imagination. They seemed unconcerned by the gazes that traced their curves, flaunting their beauty with effortless confidence. And not to mention that they were all beautiful like how Rail described. Wickedly exquisite and sensual.

The wolf clans, in stark contrast, favored practicality, that was what she could say about them. Fur-lined coats, cotton tunics, and sturdy pants were their attire of choice. Ren had yet to see a single one of them in a flowing gown. Their hair was always braided and ornamented with beads.

The bird clans’ style, however, resonated with her more than others. Though absent now, she had observed them during the feast. Oh, gods! How could she not praise them? Their long silk dresses shimmered beneath the firelight, adorned with intricate needlework lace robes that gave them an almost ethereal appearance. Their loose sleeves, reminiscent of wings, fluttered as they moved. Each dress mirrored the hues of their feathers, a testament to their heritage. They were different from others. But something was amiss and didn’t sit well here.

A frown threatened to crease Ren’s brow. Where were the rest of the female courtiers? Their absence gnawed at her, an unease settling deep in her bones. These women had not gathered to celebrate or pledge their loyalty. There was an ulterior motive lurking beneath their poised smiles. Her instincts whispered warnings, but she forced herself to maintain composure, no fear, no weakness. That was the key to keeping her ground.

"I wonder what has bestowed upon me the honor of meeting such esteemed ladies," Reneira said smoothly, her voice light yet edged with caution.

Pleasantries were exchanged, but she was not fooled. Elaika’s grandmother, Silvine, was the first to speak, her expression warm and apparently calculated. Unlike the Serpent females, whose taut faces betrayed their displeasure, assessing Ren from head to toe.

"Oh, you are such a sweet young lady, Luna Reneira," Silvine cooed. "We had no chance to speak during the feast. You left so quickly."

Ren smiled, her lips curving in practiced grace. From the corner of her eye, she noticed Arkilla standing rigid, a storm brewing within her.

Ren knew why. Arkilla had sworn not to speak a word of this meeting to the Alpha King, but the tension in her stance made it clear she despised being silenced.

Arkilla had warned her, intensely, that the female elder wolves were destined mates to their husbands. Their bonds allowed them to communicate through mind links, meaning this conversation was far from private. Every word spoken here could be relayed to their mates in an instant. Ren swallowed the bitter taste of jealousy.

Destined mates. That hit hard.

Her husband wanted one. The truth of it was still hidden beneath layers of his secrets, but she knew it existed. And she was determined to unearth it.

"Please, help yourselves to the refreshments," Ren invited, keeping her tone light. "I’m fortunate to host you for this tea gathering before your departure."

She wanted to push forward, eager to uncover their true purpose. But they danced around it, instead directing the conversation to her healing abilities.

It was a test. A challenge. Despite being an apprentice, she had saved Org’s life, a feat that had not gone unnoticed. Everyone knew how important Org and Rail were to the Alpha King. The questions came faster, sharper and Ren stiffened as the realization dawned. ’They think I’m scheming.’

Did they truly believe she was using her skills to worm her way into Kaisun’s heart? She almost laughed. Idiots. She wasn’t going anywhere. Not when so many people depended on her. She would never use others’ life as a tool to cling to her husband. Not when she had a responsibility to those who placed their faith in her. Silvine turned her gaze to Gloria, who was serving tea, then to Arkilla.

"Please, leave us," she said smoothly. "We have private matters to discuss."

Ren caught the way Arkilla’s nails dug into her palms, drawing blood. Her wolfish instincts screamed for her to stay, to protect. But she remained still, awaiting Ren’s decision. Ren gave a soft smile, sweetly deceptive.

"Go," she ordered in a gentle whisper. "Check on Ogain."

Arkilla hesitated but obeyed, bowing her head in absolute dismay. She knew they were about to break Luna’s heart. The door shut behind them, sealing Ren in the room alone with her enemies.

A Serpent woman rose, retrieving a parchment from her sleeve. With slow, deliberate movements, she turned the wooden table to face Ren and placed the document before her. The candlelight cast a light in the woman’s eyes and Ren swallowed her fear. They were so fucking beautifully fearsome from a close view.

Thunder rumbled outside, rattling the windows. A harsh wind howled through the cracks, sending a shiver down Ren’s spine. The storm beyond these walls mirrored the storm brewing inside her. She was worried for Kai. For his men. They had ventured north because of her mere suggestion, to test silver against vampires. Had she sent them into a death trap? The parchment remained untouched, yet its presence loomed over her like a death sentence. The Serpent woman, blonde with piercing green eyes, smiled viciously as she pivoted to sit back.

"Your uncle sent this," she said, her voice smooth as silk. "For the head of the elders."

The head of elders? Who? But before Ren could even form the question, Silvine answered. "Yes, my husband received it days ago. It seems King Benkin wanted assurance that His Highness would uphold the terms of the alliance treaty."

Fuck!

Ren’s throat tightened and grew dry. She knew this all. She didn’t need to read it to understand what it meant. But she did. Her fingers unrolled the parchment, and the moment her eyes landed on the tenth clause, her heart stopped. And Silvine started to narrate it audibly, clearly, like enchanting a curse to mention that she was just a hostage, a servant in charge of the Vine castle’s task:

_Clause Ten: Protection and Safe Return of the Alvonian Princess

"The Alpha King of Thegara solemnly acknowledges and accepts this decree as a matter of utmost seriousness and critical importance. Under no circumstances shall any harm, whether physical or otherwise, befall the designated wife of His Majesty during the duration of this treaty. Upon the conclusion of the war treaty, the Princess of Alvonia shall be returned safely to her homeland, free from any injury, harm, or violation to her person, ensuring her well-being, purity, and dignity remain wholly intact..."

Her grip tightened on the paper, the words digging into her like jagged glass. Silvine opened her mouth to continue, but Ren cut her off with a bitter smile.

"My Lady," she declared, her voice saccharine yet laced with steel, "I can read."

The woman’s voice felt like ice shards piercing her soul. They wanted her to hear it. Every. Damn. Word. If she had wanted to read it before, she would have asked her husband for a copy herself.

"Oh, dear," the Serpent woman sighed, feigning sympathy. "Please excuse our rudeness. We never intended to break your heart."

Liar. Her voice dripped with honey, but the venom lay just beneath it, not wasting a single second to stop a heart.

"As you can see," she continued, "this is a matter of great importance. The future of Thegara depends on an heir, and this marriage, well, it is fruitless. You arrived here untouched, and they expect you to return the same."

Ren’s heart clenched.

"We all care deeply for His Highness," the woman went on, "and we worry for his... needs."

Ren exhaled slowly, willing herself to remain calm. The Serpent woman smiled, a sickening, knowing smile. Women could see and understand each other’s hearts, minds, and language, no matter what species they were.

"His Highness has longings that must be... released," she purred. "So we suggest you choose a mistress for him. Someone you like and is close to your preferences."

The world tilted. For a moment, Ren thought the storm outside had crashed through the walls and struck her directly.

What?

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