The Dragon Heir (BOOK#1)

CHAPTER 17

✨️The Return Of The Devil.✨️

The silence was the worst part. Two years of it. Two years since Delilah vanished from the battlefield, leaving behind only the echo of her laughter and the sting of betrayal. We were always on guard, waiting, fearing. But life had a way of moving on, even in the face of such fear. It had, for me at least.

My world was filled with the gurgling laughter of my a lil son, Daryo. His chubby cheeks and bright eyes were a constant reminder of the life that bloomed even amidst the shadow of Delilah's absence. Tolga, my husband, with a heart of gold, had shielded me from the weight of the past. He held me close, whispered sweet nothings, and swore that he would protect our family, even from the specter of Delilah.

But the fear, it lingered. It coiled in the corners of my mind, a venomous serpent waiting to strike. And then, the news came like a bolt of lightning, shattering our fragile peace. Delilah was seen in the Emerald Serpent Kingdom, whispering promises of loyalty, seeking a foothold in a land known for its ruthless ambition.

I yearned to understand, to know why she chose this path. I wanted to talk to Luke, the sorcerer who had always held a soft spot for Delilah, perhaps he could offer some insight. But fate, it seems, had other plans.

That night, while I lay nestled in Tolga's embrace, a primal roar ripped through the silence, shaking our very foundations. It was Flame, our dragon, his voice thick with terror. I sprang from the bed, my heart hammering against my ribs. 'Delilah,' he roared, his voice laced with desperation. 'She's here!'

Fear, icy and cold, gripped me. I raced to the guard, my words a frantic jumble. 'Delilah! She's back!' But it was too late. She had already stormed into Daryo's chamber, a whirlwind of malice and vengeance.

I saw Tolga's face, white with rage, as he burst through the door, his sword flashing in the flickering torchlight. But it was too late. Delilah, her eyes burning with a cold fury, stood over Daryo's lifeless body, his head severed, dripping with blood.

A strangled cry escaped my lips, a sound of pure, unadulterated pain. Tolga lunged, his sword whistling through the air, but Delilah was gone. She was already scaling the castle walls, a dark silhouette against the moonlit sky.

My world shattered. My son, my precious Daryo, was gone, snatched away by the very hand that had once held him in her embrace.

Tolga found me, weeping, clutching Daryson tightly to my chest. He held me close, his own face etched with grief. I looked at him, my eyes heavy with despair, and saw the same pain reflected in his own.

'She took Daryo,' I whispered, my voice barely audible. 'She took him.'

'She won't get away with this,' Tolga vowed, his voice a low growl. 'She won't get away with this.' But even as he spoke, the fear gnawed at my heart. What had Delilah done? Why had she chosen this path, this path of darkness?

Delilah returned to the castle, her eyes hard and unyielding, Daryo's head clutched in her hand. She placed it on the highest pinnacle of the castle, a grim trophy, a grotesque mockery of the life she had stolen.

Her voice ringing with chilling triumph. 'This is the price of my daughter.'

The words echoed in the silent courtyard, a cold, cruel reminder of the life that had been extinguished. My world, once filled with the joy of my son, was now shrouded in a darkness I had never imagined, a darkness that threatened to consume me.

Delilah, my auntie, had become my worst nightmare. For now, all that remained was the agonizing question: why? And the chilling certainty that our lives would never be the same.

The chill of the night air did little to soothe the fire that raged within me. The weight of grief pressed down, a physical burden I could barely bear. Delilah, that serpent, had taken Daryo, my son, my pride, my very lifeblood.

'A son for a son,' I whispered, the words a prayer, a curse, a promise all at once. I was no longer Melike, the gentle Dragon Queen. I was a mother robbed, a woman consumed by rage.

Tolga, my husband, my rock, stood beside me, his hand reaching out to touch my face. I recoiled, the sensation of his touch alien against the storm within me. He was a king, a warrior, but a king cannot understand the depth of a mother's grief, the hollow ache that eats away at your soul.

He tried to speak, his voice a balm against the raw wounds in my heart. 'Melike, my love, please, do not let this consume you.'

'Consume me, it has already,' I snarled, my words laced with venom. 'It has taken everything from me.'

'There is still hope,' he pleaded, his eyes filled with a sorrow that mirrored my own.

But hope, I realized, was a luxury I could no longer afford. I needed revenge, a cold, brutal satisfaction that would silence the screams of grief echoing in my mind. I needed Delilah's head.

'Call the Sentinels,' I commanded, my voice cold and sharp. "Call Ava. Tell them to gather their armies. Tell them the Dragon Throne awaits its rightful heir.'

Tolga, ever patient, ever loving, tried to reason with me. 'Melike, this is folly. Delilah is protected by a powerful magic, a magic that even the Sentinels cannot overcome.'

'Then we will break her magic,' I declared, a dangerous glint in my eyes. 'We will break it until nothing remains but dust. And then, we will break her.'

He stood there for a moment, his face etched with worry, before finally nodding. 'As you wish, my Queen.'

That night, I didn't sleep. I paced the floor of our chambers, the moonlight painting shadows that danced like vengeful spirits. Each step was a drumbeat echoing my grief, each sigh a whisper of the oath I had sworn.

The Sentinel army, led by Ava, my cousin Queen of the East, arrived the next day. They came bearing banners emblazoned with the Dragon's crest, a symbol of power and justice that echoed the burning fire in my heart.

'Queen Melike,' Ava said, kneeling before me, her eyes filled with a fierce loyalty, 'We have heard your call. We stand ready to claim your rightful place on the Dragon Throne.'

I looked at her, at the hardened faces of the Sentinels, and a surge of hope, fragile but real, bloomed within me. They were my allies, my vengeance, my chance to right the wrong.

'We will march on Delilah's fortress,' I announced, my voice commanding, "And we will take back what is rightfully ours. We will avenge Daryo.'

'We will avenge your son,' Ava echoed, her voice rising with the same fervor I felt.

And so, the army of Drakenwilds, Aquilonia and the Sentinels marched, a torrent of steel and fire, ready to drown Delilah in the depths of their fury. The earth trembled under their footsteps, the air thick with the scent of battle and the promise of vengeance.

The road ahead was fraught with danger, but my heart, once heavy with grief, was now filled with a burning purpose. I would not rest until Delilah was brought to justice. Until Daryo's death was avenged.

'A son for a son,' I repeated, the words a mantra, a promise, a promise I would ensure was fulfilled. For I was no longer Melike, the Queen of Drakenwilds. I was the mother of a slain son, and I was coming for my revenge.

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