The Devil's Warrior Queen
Chapter 229: Release

Chapter 229: Release

Releasing the girls from their shackles, they set to exit the place when they saw more hefty men appearing in front of them as they blocked their entrance, but a few of them possessed red eyes which was obvious that they were vampires.

"Stay behind me." Rama told the girls and they obeyed, scampering behind her for safety, but then Draco stood in front of her, shielding them.

Fear flickered past their eyes when they saw the dead body of one of their comrades, lying in a pool of his own blood.

"Who are you people? What do you want?" One of the red eyed men spoke in a dangerous tone, trying to hide his fear with threats.

"Move or you’ll end up like him." Draco promised, his voice calm as he gave them a neutral look.

They exchanged glances before taking out their daggers as they charged toward him. Draco merely sighed in exasperation. As they charged at him with daggers aimed at his head and heart, he swiftly evaded them as he moved like a dark wind.

Lunging relentlessly, he pummeled his fist straight into the chest of one of the men, blood drenching his hand as it punctured through his back, blood gurgling out of his mouth as it fell limply.

Acknowledging the undefeatable power of the mysterious man, they still charged at him, but they only met their doom. One of the men tried to impale him from behind with an iron rod, but the iron came in contact with his skin upon striking, the rod bent with not a single scratch appearing on his body.

Seizing the assailant by the throat, his claws skewered against his neck, taking off his head as blood sprayed across the walls. Upon seeing how effortlessly he laid waste to them, the humans and low ranking vampires alike trooped into the underground room.

They had armed themselves with weapons, ready to smear the flesh of the mysterious stranger with his own blood, but the only being spilling the blood was him.

Draco moved with a fluid grace that belied his deadly intent. Humans and low-ranking vampires alike converged upon him, their faces twisted with determination, their weapons raised in a desperate attempt to vanquish this unholy menace.

With an almost casual ease, he met each assailant head-on. His movements were a lethal ballet, a symphony of destruction that unfolded in the cramped confines of the underground chamber. His hands, possessing an otherworldly strength, became instruments of demise as he struck down his foes one by one.

The humans, armed with rusted swords and dented shields, charged at him, their battle cries echoing off the damp walls. Yet, their efforts were futile against the supernatural might they faced. With a swift and precise motion, the devil’s son dodged their attacks, swiftly retaliating with devastating blows that sent them crashing to the ground, their skulls crushed with one blow, their guts sprawled out of their abdomen with blood seeping out of the deep gashes like a soft stream of crimson.

The low-ranking vampires, their eyes ablaze with a crimson hunger that mirrored their master’s, lunged at Draco, their fangs bared and claws extended. But their supernatural lineage offered no advantage against the devil’s son’s indomitable power. He effortlessly evaded their strikes, exploiting their vulnerabilities with calculated precision.

Each encounter was a testament to the devil’s son’s dominance. He wielded no weapons, relying solely on his unparalleled strength, agility, and uncanny resilience. His movements were almost ethereal, a haunting display of a being untethered by mortal limitations.

As the battle raged on, the chamber bore witness to a macabre spectacle. Bodies lay strewn across the uneven floor, crimson stains painting a grim tableau of the carnage that unfolded. The air grew thick with the scent of iron and fear, mingled with the faint whispers of fearful murmurs uttered in desperation by those hoping to defy their inauspicious destiny of being sold as captives with no freedom.

Despite the valiant efforts of his adversaries, Draco remained unscathed, a figure shrouded in an aura of invincibility. With a cold determination in his eyes, he pressed forward, a harbinger of doom for those who dared to challenge the infernal might that dwelled within him.

And in the heart of that underground chamber, amidst the chaos and death, the devil’s son stood as an indomitable force, an ominous reminder of the perilous world in which mortals dared to challenge the offspring of darkness itself.

Finally, they were all slain in a twinkle of an eye, blood streaming from the decapitated and gorily mutilated bodies of the men holding them captive.

Releasing the captured girls to their freedom as they exited the house, the girls thanked them with a bow of gratitude as they went on their way.

After watching the girls leave safely, they returned back to their cottage, soaking up in the warm tub after a long night.

"Thank you for saving those girls." Rama said as she climbed the bed, lying beside Draco.

"Saving them doesn’t mean anything Rama, nothing has changed, nothing will ever change." Draco remarked.

"It does change something, you changed their lives."

Draco sighed, not saying anymore.

"A little good won’t hurt anyone, neither will helping." Rama said, breaking the silence.

"And it won’t change what I’ve done in the past either, I’m still as much of a monster as I’ve always been." He said.

"Monster or not, I’ll always love you." She said in a soft, airy voice that made sparks of desire flame in his veins.

In the tranquil solitude of the ethereal cottage, moonlight filtered through the arched glass windows, casting ethereal hues across the chamber where they both found solace.

As the gentle flicker of candles painted dancing shadows upon the walls, the air was thick with the heady fragrance of jasmine and sandalwood, a delicate blend that enveloped the room in a sensuous aura. Soft murmurs of distant winds echoed through the stone walls, adding a haunting melody to the silence.

His piercing eyes, like molten gold, reflected both power and tenderness as he gazed upon Rama.

Their gazes locked, and a silent understanding passed between them, speaking volumes in a language only their souls comprehended. With a graceful lean, Rama pushed her body closer into Draco’s embrace, her slender fingers tracing the lines of his angular jaw, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath her touch.

As she drew nearer, the intoxicating scent of him engulfed her senses, a heady mix of earthy musk and a hint of something indefinable, something uniquely his own. Draco’s breath hitched at her proximity, his heartbeat quickening in sync with the rise of their shared anticipation.

Leaning into each other, their lips brushed in a tender, feather-light caress, igniting a spark that kindled a passionate flame within their hearts. the dimly lit chamber, Draco, the devil’s son, and Rama, his cherished mate, shared an impassioned kiss that ignited the very air around them. Their lips met in a fervent union, an exchange of longing and unspoken desire that crackled like lightning in the silent night.

Draco’s touch, possessive yet tender, traced the curve of Rama’s jaw before his hand found the softness of her thighs, eliciting a gasp from her lips. His fingers, strong and deliberate, explored the contours of her skin, sending waves of heat coursing through her entire being.

Rama surrendered to the overwhelming sensation, her fingers entwining in Draco’s hair, pulling him closer as their kiss deepened. His fervor matched hers, their passion an inferno that blazed brighter with each passing second.

She shuddered in raw anticipation of their shared heated moment as they peeled their clothes off with impulsive primal urges, burning skins colliding and sparks of ecstasy flying in the air.

In that moment, their connection transcended the mortal realm, binding them in an intense embrace where time seemed to halt, and only the fervent exchange of their affections prevailed, a union forged in the fiery depths of their love in the enchantingly dark, paranormal world they inhabited.

Time seemed to stand still as they savored the sweetness of the moment, lost in the embrace of their unspoken desires.

Their union was not just a physical entwining but a merging of souls, a sacred communion that transcended mortal constraints. Their bodies moved in a graceful dance, entangled in an intimate embrace that spoke of centuries of longing and unspoken yearning.

The warmth of Draco’s embrace enveloped Rama, his touch sending shivers of pleasure cascading down her spine. His fingers traced patterns along her skin, leaving a trail of fire in their wake, awakening every nerve ending to the exquisite pleasure of his touch.

As they surrendered to the passion that bound them, the room filled with the symphony of whispered words and breathless sighs, a symphony that echoed the symphony of their love. In that intimate space, they were not just two beings, but a cosmic force united in a union as old as time itself, a love that defied all odds and boundaries.