The Devil's Warrior Queen
Chapter 307: Thread Of Affection

Chapter 307: Thread Of Affection

Rama’s eyes widened with relief when she saw her in their midst "Aurora!"

Aurora was rather encircled in her own world as her gaze lingered on Dalen’s bodily decapitated corpse. Her composure faltered with sorrow as she stared at his body.

Her clear crystal eyes were rather distant as she stood there, staring at Dalen’s corpse in repose. For a moment, she just stared as if shutting the world out to process Dalen’s gruesome death.

"Aurora?" Rama called, her voice breaking in between her name as she choked on her tears.

Ignoring her calls, Aurora stood unmoving with her back facing them as she said "What reason did you have to kill him? His feelings were harmless, not a threat to you in any way."

"Then he should have known better than to dare me, trying to run away with my wife. What was he expecting? A happy ever after?" Draco reasoned out sarcastically.

"You have your wife, you may leave now." Aurora’s voice was as cold as her silver eyes, etched with pain.

"Aurora please, I’m sorry!" Rama screamed, her words breaking as her voice croaked with pure guilt. The insurmountable amount of guilt on Dalen’s death, eating within and out of her consumed her whole.

She believed that it was all her fault and there was no one to blame for what had happened to Dalen but her, only if she had refused to leave with him despite the possibilities of being caught, then he would have been alive, well and healthy.

But now, there he was, lying coldly on the floor, devoid of life or warmth. She was in denial to believe that he was truly dead. He had been so nice to her and taken hazardous risks for her, he had truly cared for and protected her, and not being able to do the same for him shattered her spirit.

He didn’t deserve to die in the gory manner that Draco had killed him, he didn’t deserve any of it. His only crime was falling in love with someone whom fate was against.

"Please don’t let this monster take me, I didn’t mean for Dalen to die like this...." She inhaled sharply as she went out of breath from all the crying.

Slowly, Aurora turned around to face her. Despite her grief and anger over Dalen’s death, she never let it fully consume her enough to control her in her vulnerable state. Her silver eyes, though cold and broken, still retained a flitting warmth as she locked eyes with Rama.

"This isn’t me leaving you, he’s your husband and your mate, the only reason you feel fear is because you’re still in oblivion and you remember nothing. You’re supposed to stay with him, not me. With him, you’ll be able to retrieve your memories faster." Aurora clarified.

Rama scoffed in disbelief "How can you still say that after what he’s done to your brother? After what he’s done to Dalen?!" She cracked in outrage, her reddened eyes brimming with tears.

She couldn’t comprehend how she could take Dalen’s death so lightly, even though she was hurting, still she was suppressing it rather than grieving out, but rather she chose to mask it under a neutral facade and it only irked Rama even more.

"I warned Dalen to let go of whatever feelings he held for you, he was well aware of who Draco is, and he knew the price to pay for setting his aim on Draco’s possession, he knew very well what he was getting himself into when he agreed to run away with you, but I never knew he would do something as stupid and effortless as this." Aurora remarked.

"I am not his possession and never will be, it doesn’t matter what Dalen felt or did, it doesn’t justify what this monster did to him! He gouged out his eyes and beheaded him while I watched." Rama yelled, her throat hurting from all the crying and the yelling.

It appeared as if no matter how much she tried to make Aurora see the monster in their midst and what he had done to Dalen, her eyes became more blinded as she reacted nonchalantly.

"He’s the devil’s son, Rama. No matter how much you try to show him the path of light, he always returns to the shallow depths of darkness, but still, you accepted him then and you will accept him again." Aurora said with a full stop to the conversation.

"He’s a maniac! You’re walking out on me and trading me to a monster, please don’t leave me behind." Rama pleaded, her voice turning smaller as her stomach churned in unease, a subtle constricting pain spreading all over her chest.

Finally, ending the conversation, Aurora gave Draco a slight nod to proceed, in a swift motion, a pair of mighty, black wings protruded out of his back, but her blurry eyes and hazy mind could barely process what had happened at that moment.

Without warning, he swooped her up in his arms with a secure grip and in the next heartbeat, he took a leap from the edge and soared into the dark skies.

The sting of betrayal and abandonment pricked her more than the cold night air on her skin.

Their silhouettes danced against the canvas of the twilight, the tenebrous wings of Draco eclipsing the fading hues of the setting sun. The chilly wind whipped through their hair as they traversed the vast expanse, their figures mere shadows against the backdrop of the horizon.

As they ascended to the heavens, Rama, embraced by the currents of the breeze, succumbed to the soothing lullaby of the wind. Her eyelids, heavy with the weight of the journey, surrendered to the gentle caress of slumber. Draco, ever watchful, noticed the subtle shift in her breathing as she fell unconscious, cradled in his arms in the chilly night air.

With unwavering determination, Draco guided their flight towards the towering spires of his castle, an ominous silhouette against the landscape. The moonlight bathed the imposing structure in an ethereal glow as they approached. Draco’s eyes, pools of darkness tinged with a glint of obsession, remained fixed on Rama’s serene form.

Entering their chamber through the balcony, Draco gently placed Rama on the bed, the softness of the drapes enveloping her like a protective cocoon. The flickering candlelight cast a warm glow, revealing the delicate features of her face as she lay in tranquil repose. Draco’s gaze lingered on her slumbering form, a mixture of ardor and possessiveness flickering in the depths of his eyes.

Tucking her in with a tenderness that contradicted his infernal lineage, Draco couldn’t help but be captivated by the vulnerability of Rama in the embrace of sleep. The silence of the night bore witness to the contradiction of his existence, the devil’s son harboring an inexplicable tenderness for the one who lay before him.

As Rama dreamed amidst the stillness, Draco’s presence became a silent sentinel in the shadows. The flickering candles cast dancing shadows on his brooding features as he watched over her with an intensity that bordered on possession. The cool night air wafted through the balcony, rustling the drapes and carrying the scent of the mysterious garden below.

In the quietude of the chamber, Draco’s thoughts echoed with the weight of his infernal heritage. Yet, as he stood by Rama’s bedside, a semblance of humanity unfolded. His fingers traced the contours of her face, as if seeking solace in the delicate touch that bridged the gap between their disparate worlds.

The moon, a silent witness to their clandestine moments, cast its silver glow upon the scene. Draco, compelled by a force beyond his demonic nature, found himself drawn to the vulnerability of Rama’s sleeping form. The ardor in his eyes betrayed a yearning that transcended the boundaries of the dark world they inhabited.

As the night unfolded in quiet reverence, Draco’s gaze remained fixed on Rama. The flicker of the candles cast a play of shadows, accentuating the intricate details of her tranquil expression.

Draco, though surrounded by the trappings of his devilish lineage, found solace in the simple act of watching Rama sleep. The soft rustle of her breath harmonized with the distant sounds, creating a symphony that resonated through the chamber. His fingers lingered on her cheek, tracing a pattern as if imprinting his touch upon the canvas of her dreams.

In the depths of the night, Draco stood as a paradox, a creature of darkness enraptured by the ephemeral beauty of his slumbering mate. The flickering candles cast a warm glow on the contours of his face, revealing a complexity that defied the simplistic notions of good and evil.

As the hours passed, Draco remained a silent guardian, his eyes never straying from Rama’s form. The world outside continued its nocturnal symphony, unaware of the intimate tableau unfolding within the castle walls.

Draco, the devil’s son, stood at the precipice of vulnerability, his heart entwined with the fragile thread of affection that defied the very essence of his infernal lineage.