The Devil's Warrior Queen
Chapter 325: Higher Rank In Hell

Chapter 325: Higher Rank In Hell

"He most probably gave in to Lucifer’s offer for revenge against me, how naive." Draco uttered, smiling to himself in amusement as he cut out small pieces of meat on her plate for her.

Meanwhile, she ate and listened, savoring the red meat as well as the gossip which seemed to be about lord Zamiel’s unknown brother.

"We were all naive during the war." Zamiel remarked and when she stole a glance at him, regret overshadowed his countenance for a millisecond.

"To think he could take revenge against me is rather gullible." Draco murmured nonchalantly.

"You already knew she was your mate, yet you insisted on playing your mindless games with him, it’s no surprise he did what he did." Zamiel intoned, his casual voice indifferent to the grave discussion.

Her head whipped towards them as she darted her gaze between the two conflicting yet calm demons.

Amidst the discussion, she effortlessly managed to pick out some insightful words and solve the puzzling mysteries within their phrases, leading her to understand that she was at the epicenter of their conversation, but then she couldn’t understand what it was all about.

It was a confusing conversation but she was well aware she was been involved.

"I was being merciful and giving him a chance, wouldn’t it be rather cruel of him to stripe him of that chance?" Draco implied sarcastically as a crooked smile tugged the corner of his lips, showing his disregard.

"There was no use in hurting him, you know how much he liked her." Zamiel uttered in a flat tone.

"That’s exactly why I gave him a chance, are you trying to blame me for the wayward path he chose?" Draco noted in the same indifferent tone.

Even though Zamiel’s demeanor was unyielding to betray an emotion under his stoic facade, she could sense the palpable displeasure emanating from him, he was like an older brother who had had enough of his reckless younger one.

But then, averting her attention from Zamiel to the discussion at hand, she realized they were talking about her being the affection of Zamiel’s unknown brother and from the looks of things, Draco must have snatched her from him after he was aware that she was his mate.

She wanted to satisfy her curiosity and ask them questions to clear out this oblivious ness and confusion brewing inside her head, she needed to know the truth, but before she could speak, they interrupted her and rather than chipping in to internet, she rather listened to delve deeper into the unshared secret of her past.

Zamiel’s callous gaze slowly shifted from his food to meet Draco with a foreboding look as he said "Calling him wayward when you’re wayward beyond control is rather ironic, don’t you think Draco?"

"I kill and destroy, but not without a cause." Draco retorted with a nonchalant shrug.

For the first time, she saw Zamiel’s lips tug up into a sarcastic smirk as he scoffed "Tell that to every innocent woman and child you slaughtered, I wonder what the cause was."

As the words reached the ears of the walls, Rama froze in her seat, the fork in her hand hanging midair as she looked at Draco, pleading with her eyes to deny, to say it was some sort of dark humour but then again, Zamiel didn’t seem like the type to joke around.

The air went silent for a while, not with tranquil silence but a heavy dark one that made her feel as though she was suffocating with the demonic presence emanating from the two dark beings.

The silence was abruptly disrupted as she finally spoke and ended the unnerving silence. True, he killed women and children, a fact that made her rethink on what type of person he was, she knew he was dangerous and reckless, but that extent of danger made her fearful of him and it was a fear she failed to hide.

The thought of those innocent lives he took remembering him as a monster while he took their lives made her heart ache, the thought that his face would be the last image of terror they saw elicited dread in her heart.

The revelation of his past killings, particularly of innocent women and children, sent a wave of discomfort surging through her chest, tightening like an invisible vice around her heart.

Draco’s history was a tapestry woven with threads of violence and tragedy, stained by the blood of those who had once been helpless victims.

Learning about his atrocities created a profound internal conflict for Rama. The image of Draco as a harbinger of pain and suffering clashed with the person she had grown to care for deeply. The knowledge of his past deeds weighed heavily on her, casting shadows over the bond they shared.

Despite the unsettling revelations, the bond between Rama and Draco remained unbroken. It was a testament to the depth of their connection, transcending the haunting echoes of Draco’s past. Rama faced a moral dilemma, torn between the love she felt for Draco and the abhorrence she felt for the actions he had committed.

Rama’s discomfort manifested as a palpable tension in the air as the subject arose. She grappled with conflicting emotions, questioning her own capacity to accept someone with such a dark history. The tightness in her chest mirrored the internal struggle, a physical manifestation of the emotional turmoil she experienced.

In moments of introspection, Rama delved into the complexities of Draco’s character. She sought to understand the motivations behind his ruthless acts, concluding within herself to explore the depths of his past in an attempt to reconcile the demon with the man she knew.

Draco, too, found himself exposed and vulnerable, his secrets laid bare before the one person whose acceptance meant everything to him.

As Rama confronted Draco about his past, their interactions became charged with tension "Is it true?" She asked with a tiny voice that could barely be audible to the human ears.

She could feel her stomach link together in unease as she waited for his reply, one that she knew would make her turn her face away from him in fear.

She probed the depths of his soul, seeking remorse, redemption, or any sign that he had changed.

Draco, haunted by the specters of his past, struggled to find the words to justify his actions.

"It doesn’t matter, they’re already dead." He said stiffly as he clutched his fists into a tight ball.

The air between them crackled with unspoken truths and the weight of unresolved emotions.

She grappled with forgiveness, realizing that accepting Draco meant embracing the entirety of who he wa, flaws, regrets, and all. Their bond became a testament to the transformative power of love, a force capable of healing even the deepest wounds.

Now didn’t seem like the best time as she found herself at a crossroads when it came to probing into the mysterious depths of her Draco’s past. A delicate intuition whispered to her that the timing wasn’t right, that the intricacies of his dark history were shrouded in a veil that needed to be lifted on his terms.

Draco, with his brooding presence and a history steeped in shadows, carried an air of mystery that both intrigued and unsettled Rama. His eyes, windows to a tumultuous soul, held stories untold, each glance hinting at a past filled with secrets and regrets.

Yet, Rama sensed that forcing the door to his past wide open might unleash a tempest neither of them was ready to face.

She recognized the fragility of trust and the importance of allowing him the agency to share the Chapters of his life at his own pace.

The tight discomfort in Rama’s chest, akin to a coiled spring, served as a silent reminder of the uncharted territories within Draco’s soul.

Instead of succumbing to the urge to unravel the mysteries, she chose patience as her guide, deciding to give him the time and space to unfurl the secrets that bound him. It was a delicate dance between curiosity and restraint, love and understanding.

Rama, perceptive and empathetic, gauged the unspoken cues in Draco’s demeanor, realizing that some wounds needed time to heal and some stories needed the right moment to be shared.

Rama sensed the weight of Draco’s unspoken burdens.

Draco, aware of Rama’s intuitive understanding, felt the unspoken currents between them. He recognized her silent respect for the boundaries he had yet to dismantle, and it forged a connection that transcended the need for explicit conversations about his past. Rama’s choice to refrain from prying became a gesture of love, a declaration that she trusted him enough to reveal his vulnerabilities when the time was right.

The decision to let Draco open up in his own accord was a reflection of Rama’s belief in the healing power of time. She understood that scars, both visible and hidden, required a delicate touch.

Love, she knew, wasn’t just about sharing the joys and triumphs, it was about holding space for the scars and shadows, patiently awaiting the moment when they could be unveiled without fear of judgment.

Draco, in turn, felt the tendrils of Rama’s patience weaving a cocoon around his wounded soul. The absence of relentless questioning became a balm, a testament to the authenticity of the connection they shared.

He began to sense that, when the time was right, he could unfold the pages of his past to her without fear of rejection.