The Devil's Warrior Queen
Chapter 318: Infected

Chapter 318: Infected

Regardless of the warnings, Zamiel’s resilience never faltered like his imposing form as he stared at him straight on, his glowing crimson eyes ever ready to take on whatever adversity lay before him.

"I see you have become strong-headed, but let me advice you that it will lead you nowhere, Zamiel." Draco implied.

"You talk like I’m oblivious, but I have no plans of giving up even though I’m fully aware of my failure." Zamiel remarked, his calm demeanor rippling through the torrent of suppressed pain and unwavering solidity.

"Your stubbornness is for a lost cause Zamiel, you will achieve nothing with this, the girl is gone, and the only thing you’re doing is turning her physical body into a vessel for the entities to possess. There’s no use in what you’re doing, you’re fighting for a lost cause." Draco remarked, his tone slightly tinged with boredom.

He knew his words held no effect over Zamiel and eventually he would have to destroy her, but he could weigh the heaviness of his pain and grief, so perhaps he was trying to talk some sense into the once logical demon, but he seemed to have lost his logic reasoning along with his mate.

"A lost cause you say, but you forget that you are the reason I’m fighting for a lost cause. The only reason Lucifer chose to attack us is because we were both connected to you. You think he would have given a fuck about us if you weren’t in our lives?!" Zamiel growled, his voice solid and firm as he stated a fact that Draco could not deny.

Silence swept the vicinity until Draco’s sigh broke it "It’s clear I can’t make you see reason anymore, she’s no longer your angel, she’s been infected by dark forces and in no time it will destroy her and then, your pain will be worse than before when you watch her die for the second time, don’t make an irrational decision you will regret."

"I’ll regret it more if I just let her die without trying even at the cost of watching her die for the second time and if it goes wrong after she regains consciousness, you may execute me and her. Then I’ll gladly accept defeat." Zamiel proclaimed, the words forcefully coming out between his gritted teeth as if he was spitting out venom.

"You’re asking me to allow you to proceed with this madness, don’t you think it’s unthinkable for me to leave you be especially at the cost of Rama’s safety?" Draco asked rhetorically.

"Wouldn’t you do the same if she was dead? I doubt you would have found any reason in you either." Zamiel intoned and Draco somehow found a lingering truth in his words, he wouldn’t have hesitated to try whatever means necessary just to resurrect Rama from the dead if tragedy befell them, but right then, the thought of Rama’s safety was his drive.

"But she’s not dead now, is she? And moreover, that thing that you’re preserving appears to be a threat. It’s seeping dark energy from every cell, I doubt it’s pleasant in even the slightest." Draco pointed out, his brows knitted in displeasure.

"If she becomes a threat in any way, the moment she wakes up, I’ll get rid of her myself, but if she causes no harm, you’ll let her live, besides she will be able to help trigger Rama’s memories once she wakes up. You owe me that much." Zamiel stated firmly.

Silence hung in the air for a second before Draco made his last declaration "Immediately she wakes up and you see any sign of a threat, get rid of it or I will and we wouldn’t have a chat before I do."

"Her, not it." Zamiel corrected.

"We’ll find out once it wakes up, whether we can still identify it as Malika or not." Draco said as he glanced back at the pyre before facing him.

They exchanged nods before Draco walked away leaving Zamiel in the same position as his stern gaze remained fixated on the pyre.

Meanwhile, Draco left to his liquor room, spaced out with running thoughts. He knew he made the wrong decision to leave them be but it wouldn’t hurt to give Zamiel a chance, after all he wouldn’t hesitate to get rid of her the moment she portrayed a threatening trait.

His tall and imposing figure, stood alone, surrounded by shelves of exotic liquors that spanned the breadth of his personal sanctuary. Crimson eyes, reflective of both power and a hidden vulnerability, stared into the swirling depths of a crystal goblet filled with a deep, ruby-red concoction.

The flickering candlelight cast eerie shadows, accentuating the rough features of his face. His crimson eyes, normally ablaze with arrogance, now held a glimmer of vulnerability as he immersed himself in contemplation.

The clinking of glass echoed through the chamber as Draco poured himself a glass of the finest elixir. The stone walls seemed to absorb his brooding presence, emphasizing the weight of the emotions that gripped his demon heart.

As he swirled the deep amber liquid in his glass, Draco’s mind drifted to Rama, whose memories had been cruelly erased. The pain etched on his face betrayed the torment within. He envisioned her, a spectral presence haunting his every waking moment. The connection they once shared lingered like a phantom limb, aching with the emptiness of her absence.

In the solitude of his liquor room, Draco grappled with the aftermath of Rama’s outburst. Her eyes, once filled with love and recognition, now reflected confusion and fear. The memory of her rejection lingered like a bitter aftertaste. Yet, despite the sting of her words, Draco’s determination to win her back burned brighter than the flames that adorned his darkened abode.

His mind replayed the scenes of their first encounters, his own recklessness and arrogance having driven a wedge between them. Draco, known for his fierce temperament, now contemplated a change. A realization dawned upon him, to tread carefully, to let time weave its threads and mend the frayed fabric of their connection.

As he took a sip, the elixir seemed to ignite a fire within him, matching the inferno of his inner turmoil. His mind wandered to Rama, whose memories had been cruelly erased by forces beyond his control.

He stayed in the liquor room for a while, thinking it was best to leave Rama alone and give her some space after her outburst, he reasoned she must have been reeling from the rapid change of events, she was confused and scared, he could feel it, every inch of her emotions, hidden or not.

She needed time to adjust and to fully accept what they shared, to accept him as his true demon nature and he recognized the need for her acceptance.

A heavy sigh escaped Draco’s lips, carrying with it the echoes of a love that transcended time and memory. His memories of Rama, now a distant echo in her mind, haunted him like a bittersweet melody. The space between them had grown, fueled by her recent outburst, leaving Draco torn between the desire to protect her and the need to respect her newfound independence.

Despite his reckless and arrogant behavior, Draco yearned for acceptance from the one who held the key to his heart. His love for Rama surpassed the boundaries of their supernatural existence, and he was willing to traverse the realms of change to bridge the gap that had formed between them.

Contemplating the mistakes of his nature that was hard to accept, Draco resolved to undertake a transformative journey within himself. The realization that his impulsive actions had caused her distress weighed heavily on his demonic conscience. He envisioned a change, a metamorphosis of his very nature, to mend the fragile threads of their connection.

A plan stirred in his mind, to take things slowly with Rama, to allow her the space she needed to heal and rediscover herself.

The flames in the fireplace flickered as if in agreement, casting dancing shadows that mirrored Draco’s internal struggle. He pondered on how to make her adapt to his world without overwhelming her. It was a delicate dance of understanding, compromise, and patience, virtues that seemed alien to his accustomed way of life.

In the solitude of his liquor room, Draco envisioned a future where Rama would come to accept him not just as a fearsome demon but as a partner who would stand by her side through the ebb and flow of their shared destiny. He yearned for the day when their love would become an unbreakable bond, resilient against the challenges that fate might hurl their way.

However, as he lost himself in the intoxicating ambience, Draco’s mind became ensnared by the lull of the spirits. Hours passed unnoticed, and the realization struck him like a sudden thunderclap – he had left his patiently awaiting mate in their chambers. A sense of urgency surged through him, breaking the trance of revelry.

In a swift and determined motion, Draco propelled himself out of the plush chair. The liquor room’s ethereal glow dimmed as he hastily navigated the corridors, his steps echoing a mix of determination and remorse. His features, typically marked by a stoic demeanor, now betrayed a flicker of concern.

As Draco approached their shared chambers, the grandeur of his demonic essence softened into a palpable sense of yearning. The heavy door swung open, revealing Rama standing by the window.