The Destructive Adventures of the Lovers-Chapter 69: In The Broken Heart of the Kingdom

Gabriel stumbled down the narrow, torch-lit hallway, his breaths jagged and sharp. His hands trembled as he clutched the stone wall for support, his mind a storm of betrayal and anger. Margo's footsteps echoed behind him, her soft voice calling his name, but he ignored it, his vision blurred by unshed tears.

"Gabriel!" Margo's hand found his shoulder, spinning him around. "Please, listen to me—"

He wrenched free, his tear-streaked face twisted with anguish. "Don't touch me," he snarled, his voice cracking. "Don't you dare defend her."

Matt caught up, his eyes dark with worry, glancing nervously back at the room they had just fled. "Gabriel, calm down. We need to think this through."

"Think?" Gabriel's laugh was bitter, raw. He wiped his wet eyes with a shaking hand. "What's there to think about? She's the daughter of the Ice Queen! She's been lying to us all along."

"She's still our friend," Margo whispered, her hands clutched to her chest. "We need to hear her out."

Gabriel's fists clenched, his nails digging into his palms until they drew blood. "Our friend?" He took a step back, his shadow stretching across the cold stone floor. "Margo, you don't understand. She's a threat. She's the reason we're all suffering."

Margo moved closer, her voice trembling. "She chose to stay. She chose to fight with us."

"She's a liar," Gabriel snapped, his voice breaking. "And you're a fool for trusting her."

The hallway stretched long and suffocating around them, the flickering torchlight casting jagged shadows. Gabriel staggered back, his chest heaving. Then, without another word, he turned and stumbled down the winding stairs, each step echoing his shattering trust.

Margo reached for him, her fingers grasping at the cold, empty air where his warmth had just been. "Gabriel—"

He reached the grand hall, his breaths ragged, eyes wild. The Laveran guards, villagers, and warriors turned as one, their murmurs filling the vast chamber with a rising wave of unease.

"Listen to me!" Gabriel's voice cut through the noise, raw and desperate. He climbed the dais at the room's center, his boots striking the polished marble with a sharp, hollow clack. "Ella is the daughter of the Ice Queen!"

Gasps and shouts erupted from the crowd, a chaotic wave crashing against the walls of the grand hall. Swords scraped against their scabbards, and the dull roar of voices grew louder, more fearful.

"She's been lying to us this whole time!" Gabriel continued, his voice echoing off the stone pillars. "She's one of them!"

The crowd surged forward, faces twisted with rage and fear. Someone shouted, "Where is she?!" and the others took up the cry. They moved toward the castle doors, a wave of anger and betrayal ready to burst through the stone walls.

Upstairs, Xyrille threw open a window, her eyes sharp as she scanned the grounds below. She turned to Owen, her breath coming in quick, icy puffs. "They're coming."

Owen, his wings half-unfurled, tightened his grip on his sword. "I'll distract them. Go, now."

Zeze, her dark eyes flashing, gave a quick, determined nod. She grabbed Ella's arm, her grip strong but urgent. "No time to waste."

Lila pushed the heavy curtain aside, her face pale but resolute. "We'll find a way out. Trust me."

Together, they slipped through the open window, their breaths mingling in the frozen air as they slid down the icy slope to the courtyard below. The shouts from inside grew louder, boots thundering on the stone floors as the mob reached the upper halls.

They reached the outer gate, snow swirling around them like ghosts. Ella stumbled, her breath catching as the weight of her secrets threatened to pull her under.

Xyrille gripped her arm tighter, her eyes fierce. "Run. We have to reach Simbaku before they find us."

As they crossed the creaking drawbridge, the first angry shouts echoed from the castle walls behind them, the sound of steel ringing through the frozen air. Owen's wings snapped open, and he took to the sky, his blade gleaming as he wheeled around to face the advancing mob.

The gates groaned shut behind them, the heavy iron slamming down with a bone-rattling crash, cutting off the chaos within.

Ella stumbled forward, her breaths coming in ragged gasps as she followed the others into the snow-covered wilderness, the shadow of the castle growing smaller behind them with each frantic step.

The air in the room felt thin, crackling with a tension that made every breath sharp. The residents poured in, their eyes wild, flicking around the chamber like predators scenting fear. Their breath steamed in the cold, and their fists were clenched, shadows dancing across the frost-rimmed walls.

Owen stepped forward, blocking the doorway, his wings folded tightly behind him. He forced a crooked smile. "They're... they're in the bathroom," he said, his voice a low, controlled growl. The lie slipped from his tongue like a blade, quick and sharp. But one of the villagers, a broad-shouldered man with a scar splitting his brow, didn't buy it. His gaze narrowed, and he lunged forward, his jagged knife flashing in the pale light.

Owen's reflexes snapped like a coiled spring. He twisted to the side, feeling the blade graze his wing, a shallow slice of pain. Without hesitation, he spun, his own blade slipping free. It found the villager's chest with a wet, sickening sound, sinking deep into muscle and bone. The man's eyes went wide, his mouth working silently as crimson spread across his tunic. He crumpled to the floor, a dark pool spreading beneath him.

The other residents froze, their expressions torn between fury and fear, the reality of blood snapping them back to their senses. Owen didn't wait for their response. He kicked open the balcony doors, cold wind screaming in, catching his wings like a storm.

"Forgive me," he whispered, before launching himself into the frozen sky, his wings burning with every beat. He banked hard, catching a glimpse of the others below – Zeze already gripping Ella, Xyrille, and Lila, her body a streak of silver lightning as she tore through the snow-choked streets. She moved so fast they were a blur, a whisper of motion against the biting white.

They shot through the crumbling gates of Lavera, the cold air stabbing at their faces, snowflakes stinging their skin. Zeze didn't slow until the fractured towers of Simbaku loomed ahead, jagged spires wrapped in frost and shadow. She skidded to a stop, dropping them behind a crumbling rock, her breath coming in sharp, quick gasps.

"Simbaku..." Ella whispered, her eyes wide as she took in the ruins. Snow clung to the shattered stones like memories of a forgotten era, thick and silent, muffling the echoes of their own breath.

Owen swooped down, his wings kicking up a cloud of snow as he landed beside them. He folded them back with a grimace, the wound from the villager's knife already crusted with half-frozen blood.

"Look," Lila whispered, her voice a thin thread against the icy wind. She pointed to the shattered gates of the castle, where figures moved in the haze of snow – knights, their armor pale as bones, marching from the ruins like ghosts.

They huddled closer, eyes locked on the slow, deliberate procession, each step crunching against the ice-cracked stone. Their breaths fogged the air, mingling with the whispers of the wind, the cold settling into their bones.

"What... what are they doing here?" Zeze whispered, her fingers twitching, ready to reach for her blades.

Ella's heart raced, her mind flashing back to her mother's cold eyes, her whispered threats. She had hoped the castle would be abandoned, a ruin left to ghosts and echoes. But now, as the knights marched from the shattered doors, she felt a sick dread coil in her chest. fɾēewebnσveℓ.com

"They're guarding something," Xyrille muttered, her eyes narrowing. "Something important."

They exchanged glances, the weight of unspoken fears pressing down on them. The snow whispered around them, a thousand voices in the wind, urging them forward, deeper into the heart of a broken kingdom.