Chapter 312: Fading Revenge

As things stood, it was pretty obvious and painfully direct.King Jared’s arm had been torn clean off, the wound jagged and mangled, blood still dripping steadily onto the ground beneath him.

No matter how hard he tried, no regeneration followed. He scrambled to his feet with uneven footing, his breath coming out in harsh, ragged gasps.

His expression was a horrifying blend: half filled with fear and resentment, half bearing a wild, unfocused gaze that showed he was already halfway lost to madness, driven there by humiliation and rage.

Clara stood beside him, her posture stiff and rigid, her eyes fixed downward as if the ground itself had personally offended her. Yet even as she tried to contain herself, her anger practically exuded from her like an aura—thick, suffocating, and sharp enough to be felt by everyone standing nearby. The air around her seemed heavier, charged with something dangerous and volatile.

The hunters fell to their knees almost in unison.

Their weapons clattered uselessly to the earth as their hands shook violently, fingers refusing to obey them anymore. Some trembled so hard their teeth audibly chattered, while others stared blankly ahead, eyes wide and glassy. They were convinced—absolutely certain—that Zyren would wipe them out without hesitation. The other werewolves were no different.

Even those who had once taken pride in their strength now looked utterly broken, shoulders slumped, heads bowed, fear etched into every line of their faces.

They had just watched Zyren toy with their Alpha without breaking a sweat.

And then—just when they were bracing themselves for slaughter—they were stunned.

Zyren stepped forward, completely unhurried, and instead of striking another blow, he leaned down and slowly kissed Aria on the lips.

Then he turned around without sparing anyone else another glance and began heading back in the direction of the carriages.

"We’re leaving!" he ordered coolly.

The vampires didn’t dare lag behind. Not a single one hesitated. They instantly dashed after him, moving in perfect coordination, following him the way ants followed their queen—swift, obedient, and unquestioning.

The Zygons had been wiped out.

That alone meant the primary reason they had assembled here had already been fulfilled. But considering everything that had just happened—King Jared attacking their King, the brutal retaliation, and the public humiliation—it was painfully clear to everyone present that it was only a matter of time before an all-out war broke out between the werewolves and the vampires.

A wide grin spread across the faces of the vampires as realization dawned on them.

Regardless of what happened next, it was obvious—their King was going to win.

The confidence showed plainly, not only in their expressions but also in the way they walked, their strides steady and unshaken as they moved in formation. Completely cloaked in black, they looked like living shadows reclaiming the night.

Within moments, the entourage had fully amassed. Everyone who had come from the vampire realm and was still alive gathered together, silently assembling without needing instructions.

Aria wordlessly climbed into Zyren’s carriage.

He didn’t beckon to her or say a single word. He didn’t need to.

Even as Liora furiously whispered into Aria’s ear, clearly protesting and urging her not to go, Aria ignored her completely. She didn’t look back. She didn’t hesitate.

From Liora’s expression alone, it was clear that among all of them heading back to the vampire realm, she was the most devastated. Her glare remained fixed on Zyren’s carriage, so sharp and intense that it looked like she would gladly set the entire thing on fire if she could.

Her thirst for blood still clawed at her insides.

Maybe it was because she hadn’t had a proper meal in a long while, or maybe it was the chaos of everything that had transpired—but it took every ounce of self-control she had not to sink her teeth into the necks of the hunters and humans who came too close to her. They crowded around, asking questions, voices overlapping, eyes filled with barely concealed greed as they demanded to know how she had obtained her ability.

They didn’t even bother hiding it.

Aran, her uncle especially, stood out.

He stayed far away from Zyren’s carriage, keeping his distance as if instinctively aware that crossing that invisible line would cost him his life. Instead, he almost insisted on riding with Liora, hovering close to her side.

Gone was his earlier fear of death.

He clearly had no idea why Zyren hadn’t killed him yet, but that didn’t stop him from sticking to Liora like a parasite, his eyes gleaming with something dangerously close to obsession.

"Your ability looks magnificent!" he exclaimed, showering her with compliments, his voice loud and enthusiastic as he continued speaking without pause.

Liora did her absolute best to keep herself sane as she climbed into her carriage, pointedly barring him from following her inside.

It was all she could do not to kill him on the spot.

"No! Get your own carriage!" she snapped, slamming the door behind her with enough force to rattle the frame.

She settled into her seat, her nails digging sharply into her palm. She focused on the pain, welcomed it, used it as an anchor. It was the only thing stopping her from bursting out of the carriage and ripping into the nearest human’s neck with her teeth.

The voices in her mind had grown louder.

They screamed for blood now, frantic and unrelenting, their demands echoing through her thoughts in a way that terrified her. She was painfully aware that if they grew any louder—if she lost her grip even for a moment—she would listen.

And that path was a one-way street to madness.

She dug her nails deeper into her palms, drawing blood this time, as she fought desperately to keep the demons at bay.

Aria sat inside the carriage with Zyren.

Unlike usual, he didn’t sit beside her. Instead, he took the seat directly opposite, his posture relaxed yet alert as his red eyes stared straight at her without blinking.

The silence between them felt heavy.

Uncomfortable.

His gaze was so intense that she finally decided to speak, if only to fill the space with words—any words.

It didn’t help that the awkward kiss they had shared earlier lingered vividly in her mind, making it difficult to meet his eyes without recalling the way his lips had felt against hers.

"Why didn’t you kill them?" she asked at last.

"They’ll only try to kill you more!"

She genuinely couldn’t understand it. Not when he could have easily slaughtered all the hunters and King Jared even if he somehow wanted to spare the werewolves.

"You want me to kill them?" Zyren asked calmly.

The question only made Aria crinkle her forehead further in confusion.

"What I want doesn’t matter!" she responded instantly, her voice sharp as the carriage rumbled onward over uneven ground.

Zyren shook his head slowly.

"What you want does matter," he said firmly. "You looked like you were already sick of the blood."

He paused briefly before continuing.

"Most importantly, I believe in second chances."

The words might as well have been a joke.

There was no way Aria could reconcile that statement with how easily he killed people when it suited him.

"You’re still going to kill Lord Dangrey, right?" she asked quickly, needing reassurance.

"I want him dead today if possible!" Aria stated plainly, staring straight at him. She didn’t care about the oath she had made anymore. She was already prepared to abide by whatever consequences came with it.

As long as it meant her mother would finally be free from such a man.

"I’ll kill him," Zyren replied, his tone even. "But keep in mind, it would take a long time for your mother to recover. Especially if she recalls all the things she had willingly done for him."

It sounded almost like a warning.

Aria merely shrugged.

"She’ll be fine," she said with unwavering conviction, completely sure of herself.

"As long as Dangrey is dead and burned to ashes."

Zyren watched her for a moment before slowly nodding, a small smile tugging at his lips.

"I’ll get it done the second we get back to the castle."

Satisfied, Aria nodded and relaxed into her seat—

Only to be stunned the very next second when Zyren suddenly reached for her, lifted her effortlessly, and dropped her straight into his lap.

He grinned widely as she glared up at him, already knowing exactly what he wanted before he even spoke.

"No," she said flatly.

He only grew more insistent.

Zyren leaned in and kissed her deeply, his hands sliding beneath her gown as he whispered against her lips, his breath warm and teasing.

"I can be convincing," he promised.

His red eyes bored into hers, intense and unwavering.

Aria felt her heart instantly pick up pace.

The fact that Zyren needed to die was something she was growing increasingly confused about—every time she watched him survive, every time she saw him treat her gently, every time he spoke to her with sincerity.

It was the way he looked at her.

No one could deny that it looked genuine, and that made it all the more unsettling when contrasted with the cold, unfeeling heart she knew he possessed.

As if I’d ever be stupid enough to fall for it, she thought.

She hated how fast her heart raced when he touched her.

She hated how much her body wanted him to continue.

She blamed whatever she felt on the bond.

And when he kissed her again, she kissed him back.

She knew—deep down—that with how much her sister hated him, there was never a world where Liora would stop trying to kill Zyren.

Even if Aria herself no longer wanted to.