Chapter 388: Breaking A Promise
It wasn’t hard to understand.
While the baby was fine and healthy, the mother—whom Zyren cared for far more—was not. To him, there was no hesitation, no uncertainty, no indecision in what needed to be done.
Savira could see it clearly.
He had already made up his mind.
And he had no intention of turning back.
Yet all she felt was dread as she followed his orders and began to prepare. Aria would never agree to it—never allow such a thing—but she was far too weak now to stop it.
Moreover, Savira couldn’t help but wonder if it truly was the worst decision.
Aria technically still had two full months left before the child could be carried to term.
One month early... a baby might survive.
Two months early? Impossible.
Even if the child carried vampire blood. Even if it possessed enhanced healing.
What is there to heal... if the organs have not even formed properly yet?
The more she thought about it, the heavier the decision became. Each possibility tangled with another until the outcome seemed darker no matter which path was taken.
But in the end, Savira knew one thing.
She didn’t have a choice.
"Just follow orders... nothing more," she muttered to herself over and over in a low voice as she moved around her laboratory, gathering everything she would need.
She tried to ignore the dull ache in her chest.
A healthy baby was going to die.
The thought refused to leave her.
When everything had been packed, she reached for one last bottle. Her hands trembled slightly as she picked it up.
It wasn’t necessary.
Not physically.
But something in her mind insisted it might be needed.
It was better for Aria to understand what she was being forced into.
Savira was old. Ancient. And she still held to old beliefs.
If a mother chooses to sacrifice herself for her unborn child... that is her right.
A choice no one should take from her.
That was the way of the world.
The way of nature.
She slipped the bottle into her bag and closed it, her hands curling into fists.
Zyren might kill her for interfering.
She didn’t care.
I have lived long enough to die without regrets, she told herself.
But even as the thought came, a thread of fear crept into her heart.
Zyren was cruel enough not to let her die.
Night fell faster than she expected.
By the time a maid summoned her to Aria’s room, the sun had barely set. The sky still held the last fading traces of dusk.
Savira entered the room—
—and understood immediately.
Aria was dying.
It was written in her face. In the unnatural pallor of her skin. In the slow, weakening rhythm of her heart.
Zyren had already ordered everyone out.
Rymora. The maids. The attendants.
The room felt too quiet.
Too still.
Savira moved to the bedside, setting her bag down carefully.
"Cut it out now," Zyren ordered.
His voice was cold.
Ruthless.
His gaze never left Aria’s face, as though nothing else in the world existed.
Savira’s hands trembled slightly as she reached into her bag. She ignored the stimulant potion she had already taken to keep herself alert.
Zyren moved first.
He threw the covers aside and pushed Aria’s clothes up to expose her abdomen.
But the moment he did—
Aria stirred.
Her lashes fluttered.
Her eyes opened.
Both of them froze.
Even more startling was the sudden change in her heartbeat. It grew stronger—clearer, faster than it had been moments ago.
Zyren didn’t believe in coincidence.
Savira wanted to.
"...She could be getting better, and—"
He didn’t let her finish.
Because another memory had already risen in his mind.
His father’s voice.
You killed her.
Your birth killed your mother.
How else could a werewolf woman die from childbirth? Werewolves healed within hours. Even after the most brutal deliveries, they stood again as if nothing had happened.
Yet she had died.
And now, standing here, Zyren saw only one truth.
The child inside Aria was surviving.
While she was not.
To him, the baby did not care about her life.
Savira did not share that belief.
But she said nothing.
"...What’s... what’s happening?" Aria’s voice came weakly as her eyes struggled to focus.
She looked down.
Her breath caught.
"Why am I—"
Her words broke into a gasp when she realized her state of undress.
Then she saw the knife in Savira’s hand.
Her head snapped toward Zyren.
Betrayal flooded her expression.
"You promised!" she snapped.
It would have been a scream if she had the strength.
Zyren did not flinch.
Savira spoke quickly, her own voice strained.
"You were dying! Your heart was failing—but suddenly it became stronger! I don’t understand it either!"
She didn’t.
None of this made sense.
Aria glared at both of them, fury burning through the exhaustion. She struggled to steady her breathing before speaking again.
"...I just need to rest," she said weakly. "I’ll be fine. I promise."
Her eyes were already drifting closed.
But something about it sent a cold fear through Zyren.
If she sleeps now... she won’t wake up.
The certainty hit him hard enough that he moved without hesitation.
He grabbed the blade from Savira’s hand.
"Give her the potion," he ordered. "She shouldn’t feel most of the pain."
Aria’s eyes widened.
She stared at him as though he had lost his mind.
Even that look took effort.
Savira hesitated only for a heartbeat before reaching for the vial.
"I refuse!" Aria gasped, summoning what little strength she had.
But when her eyes met Zyren’s, she understood.
Her refusal didn’t matter.
Tears slid silently down her temples.
"Please..."
It was barely more than a breath.
Zyren’s gaze did not change.
Cold.
Unyielding.
His decision had already been made.
"I hate—" she began, anger flickering weakly through her eyes.
Savira moved.
Her hand gripped Aria’s chin gently but firmly, tilting her head back.
The potion was poured into her mouth before she could finish.
