The Devil's Son and His Fated Bride
Chapter 253: Farewell.

Chapter 253: Farewell.

Hector didn’t know why the Fae Crown Prince had summoned him. But one thing he remembered with chilling clarity, was the moment Lucieth slaughtered an entire line of Lord vampires in cold blood.

There had been joy in the prince’s face then. Unapologetic, savage joy. Until he reached Hector. He didn’t see the lord vampires as someone who had the right to breathe. They were merely abominations in his eyes. However, Hector himself questioned this many times. He didn’t choose this for a long life or wealth. He chose it to reach the King of Kings. To kill him.

And in that moment... when he was standing in front of him, something shifted.

The glee of killing vampires faded. Lucieth’s hand faltered mid-air, just a twitch, a tremble, subtle enough that only Hector noticed. Their eyes had locked. And in that shared gaze, Hector felt it. An invasion of emotions, a conflict. He doubted to kill him and Ren’s intervention was quick to save him.

He could clearly remember how it felt when the Fae peered Into his eyes. Like someone had plunged straight into the marrow of his mind, rummaging, uncovering every memory, every buried grief, every sin, every shred of forgotten innocence. He shivered at the recollection of that very palpable moment.

"This portal... why is it blue?" Ren’s voice pulled him back.

Hector blinked, disoriented, the haunting memory dissipating like smoke.

He turned his gaze to the shimmering oval of energy before them, azure light pulsing at its edges.

He had always been intrigued by these portals, especially after Lutherieth’s fall. With him gone, Phoria had slithered into the void, mastering the art of shadowy travel and bending space through her twisted magic, the one that she had learned from Nimoieth’s second diary. He read it but couldn’t perform it. Hector never understood how she managed it. The witch was many things, mad, brilliant, vile, but her craft had been one of the most dangerous things he’d ever seen. She was heartless while giving sacrifices to Nimoieth.

"Because the source of this gate is from the Fae Realm," Kaisun explained beside her, his hand gently supporting Ren’s lower back.

Hector tilted his head. Fae realm gates were different? His thoughts flickered to a time long ago. His mother could make portals, too. In water. Silent, ephemeral, woven from ripples and light.

Then why...

Why could I never do it? The thought soured in his chest.

Hector’s thoughts twisted like vines.

When he was a boy, his mother had given him one strict command: stay away from magic, postal, and water.

She never explained why, only that it would lead to ruin, his ruin. The mermaids couldn’t accept hybrids. Yet she never denied that he had the potential. That he could’ve been great at it.

But after her death, when his path eventually crossed with Lutherieth, that warning became a prophecy.

Even Luther, with all his twisted ambition, forbade him from trying. Especially from forming a portal. He even suggested that he should not make an army for himself.

Not out of care, but out of fear. Fear of what he might unlock. Hector was a different being.

"Come on," Agara’s voice pulled him from his spiraling thoughts. The prince glanced back, his piercing eyes shimmering in the light of the portal. "Let’s go to the Fae Realm."

For a fleeting moment, the thought crossed Hector’s mind, he could run. Step through that portal and vanish forever, never to be seen again.

No chains could stop him once he crossed.

But... he didn’t.

Because the pull to understand his sister– the sister who didn’t flinch when she called him brother– was stronger than the fear. That connection, small as it was, tugged at something deeper than he had expected.

And beyond that... the Fae Realm.

That bubbling curiosity, raw and acidic, coiled in his chest like a sleeping beast. He wanted to see it, feel it, know what he had been denied. And that man, Lucieth, what was in his mind?

Ren and Kaisun turned briefly, offering parting glances to the newly crowned Queen Gloria and their weeping aunt. Faces Hector didn’t yet understand, names still foreign. Family, but only by blood, not bond. Not yet.

Still, time would offer the chance to forge those ties. And as his gaze passed over Gloria, he felt it, a strange shimmer, faint but powerful. The aura of the immortal weapon they kept in Deagara. The Spike.

So... it was her. The one who stole it was actually my cousin...

How poetic fate could be. It didn’t just play games. It designed epics. Eh, so the Queen was a thief?

Hector offered a wry smirk to the young shifter, Rail. The man clearly didn’t realize yet that with the royal family of Thegara gone, he’d be alone with the newly crowned Queen, for a while, at least. How fortunate, Hector mused darkly.

"I’ve ordered the Alphas to return home until I come back," Kai told Gamma Axe. "You’ll leave once we’ve gone. Inform Beta Coran that I’ll speak with the elder of the River Pack upon my return."

Gamma Axe dipped his head in a deep bow. Hector respected this one, more than most. He’d watched him from afar on the battlefield, fighting with unmatched resolve, shielding his soldiers like a wall of iron and blood. A true warrior. Loyal not out of duty, but belief.

This demon’s son has an eye for good comrades, Hector thought, stealing a glance at Kai. Still, he wondered what he truly thought about escorting a vampire lord. His face was unreadable. He hasn’t spoken his mind yet. He looked skeptical.

"Yes, Your Highness," Axe said steadily. "Please... be safe."

On the steps of the chamber, King Benkin turned to his younger brother, voice hoarse. "Take Eve back to her quarters. I can’t... I can’t bear to see her cry like this."

There was a deep fatigue in his eyes. Not just physical, but the kind that came from making peace with death.