The Duke's Reluctant Bride

Chapter 46: The One Who Defied Death

Valerie finally pushed herself back onto her feet, her hand tightening on the hilt of her sword. She exhaled slowly, then, with deliberate motion, she sheathed the blade at her side. "It's over," she murmured, though her stance remained tense, as if she half-expected another threat to emerge from the shadows.

Clara's focus, however, shifted to Ivy. The guardian fox staggered, blood still seeping from her side, her breaths shallow. Clara hurried to her, kneeling close. "Ivy," she whispered, her voice soft yet firm, her hands making a gesture for her to turn small again. "Go small... it will help you heal faster."

Ivy's amber eyes met hers, weary but trusting. She gave a faint nod before her body began to shrink, her mossy fur glowing faintly as her massive body dwindled into the small creature that Clara had first known. The wound along her side closed in slow, steady pulses of light, but when the glow faded, her small body trembled with exhaustion.

Clara scooped her up carefully, holding her close against her chest. Ivy's tiny head rested against her shoulder, her breathing still labored but steady. "You did well, Ivy," Clara whispered, stroking her soft fur. "Get some rest now." At her words, Ivy's eyes fluttered closed, and she leaned into Clara, slipping into sleep with a faint sigh.

The moment of quiet was cut short by Valerie's voice. "My lady." She gestured with a tilt of her head. "Come. I'll accompany you back to the estate, but before that, there is something I must deal with."

Clara adjusted her hold on Ivy and rose to her feet, following as Valerie led the way deeper into the trees. The air was heavy, carrying the faint scent of grassed earth and lingering magic. Soon, they came upon the figure slumped against a tree trunk—Melissa.

She stirred, groaning faintly as she tried to sit up, but her arms shook and she collapsed back against the bark.

"Don't push yourself," Valerie said, stepping forward. Her tone was curt but not unkind. "Save your strength. And also, you owe us an explanation."

Melissa's eyes flickered, unfocused at first, then widened as a memory struck her. Her breathing quickened. "No... no, they are in danger." Her hands trembled as she gripped the earth beneath her. "The Dark Lord, he found us. He found them."

Valerie and Clara froze, exchanging a startled glance before they both turned sharply back to her.

Valerie's voice was calm but edged like steel. "Care to enlighten us more? I'm not surprised to hear of his existence. My knights and I have suspected as much from our investigations. But I need clarity. Now."

Melissa shook her head, her voice breaking as urgency overcame her. "You don't understand... the Duke and my lady, they are in danger!"

The words hung in the air like a blade, sharp and final, and with them, the forest seemed to fall utterly silent.

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The blade of shadow was driven straight through Adeline's chest, erupting from her back with a wet sound. The sharp obsidian tip dripped crimson as her breath caught in a ragged gasp. Blood filled her lungs instead of air. She staggered, the world tilting, her vision narrowing to a darkened tunnel of death. Her dulled blue eyes found Lucien one last time.

"Your... Grace..." The words trembled out—not a plea, not quite an apology, but something fragile caught between both. Her trembling hand reached toward his face, as if by touch alone she could wake him from the nightmare.

The chains of light that had once wrapped around Lucien slowly dissolved into the air, leaving only a dust of fading brilliance scattering.

Lucien stood unmoving, his gaze locked on her, cold and unblinking. His eyes gleamed with that unnatural purple light, a hollow gaze that had once held warmth. Yet, for the briefest heartbeat, she thought she saw it, a thin glimmer at the edge of his eye, like a tear straining to break through.