Married To Darkness-Chapter 451: Right Before Wyfkeep

"I’ve missed them," Heappal said quietly. "Salviana. Jean. Even Lucius. And Thalia... Tell me she’s safe."

"She is," Jaefel said. "Last we heard."

"And the wizard? Sebastian?"

Samion made a face. "Unfortunately, still breathing."

Heappal chuckled despite the soreness in his chest.

"But Alaric’s calling us," Samion said, voice steadying. "So whatever’s coming—he means to end it."

"And we’ll be there when he does," Jaefel replied. "Together."

They rode in silence after that, the only sound their horses’ hooves on damp forest earth and the rustling of leaves overhead. The moonlight watched them from above, patient and pale, as if even the stars were waiting to see what would become of the Third Prince’s rebellion.

But for now—three knights rode under moonlight, heading for the castle where fate would unfold.

A brotherhood reborn.

And a war not yet lost.

Meanwhile,

The golden spires of Wyfkeep Castle shimmered in the distance, tall and proud against the setting sun. The air smelled of dust, wildflowers, and something festive—something strange. Something unexpected.

Prince Embrez Velthorne slowed his horse atop the final ridge before the descending slope into the capital. Wind tousled his dark hair, and the sharp line of his jaw twitched.

Behind him, the others gathered one by one—Thalia, Sarah, and Emma riding in formation behind the guards. The sound of celebration drifted up from the city gates—trumpets, cheers, even dancing. Long colorful banners rippled from balconies. Peasants were waving. Laughter rang like festival bells.

They had expected a castle under tension. But instead...

Jubilation.

And it was all for him.

"Is this... for us?" Emma asked, blinking as she sat up straighter in her saddle.

"For him," Sarah replied in a whisper, eyes trained on the glittering flags. "The king declared this? Look at them. They’re chanting."

Thalia leaned closer, her voice low but curious. "Are you nervous?"

Embrez didn’t answer at first. His hands tightened on the reins. His lips drew into a taut line.

"Yes," he finally said, clipped and honest.

Thalia glanced at him. "Because of the king?"

Embrez’s eyes narrowed at the celebration. "Because it’s a lie."

The mood thickened instantly.

The horses shifted beneath them, sensing their riders’ unease. The guards looked around—some murmuring, others gripping weapons a little tighter.

"A decade ago, I left this place in the dark. And now suddenly... fireworks?" he said, bitterness creeping into his voice. "This isn’t a welcome. It’s a distraction."

Sarah furrowed her brows. "But you’re still the king’s son."

"And that has never meant less," Embrez muttered. "Not when he sees me as a pawn—or worse, a next step."

"You’re still Prince Embrez of Wyfn-Garde," Emma said, softer now, as if trying to ground him.

Thalia reached forward, gently touching his shoulder. "You’re also our prince’s ally. He trusts you. That has to count for something."

Embrez glanced back at them then—at the women who had ridden with him through forests, valleys, chaos, and comfort. His gaze lingered on Thalia’s face.

"Right," he said slowly, masking the emotion that rose. "He’s still my ally."

Then, smiling faintly, he added, "Relax. I’m just being dramatic. Maybe they are just excited to see my charming face again."

Emma rolled her eyes, "You’re the most dramatic man I’ve ever met."

"Oh hush," Embrez shot back playfully. "You’ll all be dressed in silk and eating cake by nightfall."

The wagon train resumed its descent, hooves kicking up dust as they began to enter the outskirts of Wyfkeep.

Children ran alongside the roads cheering.

Confetti scattered from merchant stalls.

A bard played a flute near the gate, already halfway through a song about "The Prince Who Rode the Silver Road Home."

Sarah leaned close to Thalia as they passed beneath a flower-strewn arch. "What do you think this really is?"

"A performance," Thalia replied. "But let’s watch closely. Performances always reveal something beneath the surface."

Behind them, Embrez Velthorne squared his shoulders and smiled like royalty, but his thoughts churned like a brewing storm.

His father wanted to play games?

Then let the curtain rise.

3 Days Later,

The road into Wyfkeep was oddly quiet, the horizon rippling with heat and shadow. Alaric sat tall on his horse, his black cloak fluttering in the chilled wind like a banner of war. Behind him, Salviana clung gently to his waist, her red hair braided back, lips pressed in a line of worry. Lucius and Jean rode side by side just behind them, the ever-brooding vampire’s umbrella holstered like a sword at his back.

Sebastian, grinning faintly, trailed the group, fiddling with a silver ring on his hand.

Wyfkeep fence should have been visible by now—its black towers piercing the skies of Wyfkeep like stone fangs. But instead of home, a strange shimmer split the air ahead.

A growl—low and unnatural—rolled through the valley like thunder.

And then, the very air fractured.

Out of nothingness, a rip in the world peeled open—a gaping, swirling smoke-abyss—and from it came two monstrous figures, hulking and snarling. Not quite human, not quite beast. Their shoulders were too wide, their hands too clawed, their eyes burning like coal with no soul behind them.

"Gods," Jean gasped. "What are those?"

"Trouble," Alaric growled, eyes narrowing.

The women were ordered back without hesitation. "Ride back to the ridge!" Alaric barked. "Salviana—Jean—hide and wait!"

"No we don’t have—" Salviana started to protest, but Lucius had already dismounted and stepped forward, umbrella in hand like a blade.

"I’ll handle the ugly one," he muttered darkly, teeth bared slightly. "Try not to miss me."

Lucius charged.

He moved in a blur, his boots cracking against stone, but just as he leapt for the first beast, the creature roared and spun with impossible speed—its elbow crashing into Lucius’s side with a bone-breaking slam. He was flung backwards like a rag doll.

"Lucius!" Jean shrieked as she dismounted, but Salviana caught her arm. "No—don’t, don’t! We’ll only be in the way!"

Lucius hit the ground hard. He didn’t move.

No. Is he dead? Could the beast be magical? what is happening?!

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