Awakening Love Reborn to Be His Duchess (Elowen Hale) novel Chapter 790

Chapter 790 A Brush With Death

ASE

Finished

Ronan gritted his teeth, fighting tooth and nail to parry the strikes, but his footwork had crumbled into absolute ruin.

Cassian, by contrast, looked as though he were taking a leisurely stroll; the previous strikes were mere flicks of his wrist, costing him barely a breath of effort.

Unable to evade the final blow, Ronan crashed down, his back slamming the stone tiles with bone–shattering force.

Before he could even scramble to his feet, Cassian stepped forward and pressed the edge of his longsword flush against his throat.

Staring down at him with eyes as cold as the grave, Cassian drawled, “Consider yourself blessed. You get to keep your life only because my wife asked for it in person.”

Ronan let out a bitter, raspy laugh. “Even now, you’re playing the devoted husband?”

With that, he snatched a handful of gravel from the ground and hurled it straight at Cassian’s

face.

Cassian’s gaze flicked to the side to track the incoming debris.

Yet the gravel was nothing but a feint.

Seizing the split–second distraction, Ronan pulled a small paper packet from his belt and smashed it with brute force toward his opponent.

It was a dirty trick Cassian had not anticipated.

The packet exploded point–blank, erupting into a cloud of white powder that engulfed his head and face in the blink of an eye.

The substance was fine as mist; the exact moment it touched his skin, a violent, agonizing burn flared across his flesh.

Cassian held his breath without a second thought, but he was a fraction too late.

The toxic dust had already slipped down his throat like ice, sinking deep into his lungs before coursing through his veins.

It felt as though an inferno had been ignited inside him, the flames spreading from his chest to his marrow, melting his very bones.

He stumbled back a step, the sword slipping from Ronan’s throat as he planted the tip into the

Chapter 790 A Brush With Death

dirt to steady his trembling frame.

Finished

Dropping to one knee, he leaned heavily on the hilt, his handsome face going pale as death.

“The grand Duke of Duskmoor… nothing special after all.”

Ronan pushed himself off the ground, his voice raw and ragged.

He brushed the dirt and crushed leaves from his robes, attempting to regain a semblance of composure.

Cassian didn’t even hear the insult.

The toxin was corroding his body, devouring his life from the inside out; he was shaking like a leaf in the wind, his ears ringing with a deafening buzz.

But a completely different voice managed to cut through the noise.

“Cassian!”

It was Elowen.

She had been watching him with a hawk’s eye the entire time; seeing the invincible Duke actually stumble, she couldn’t stop herself from screaming his name.

Hearing her voice, Cassian felt the agonizing, flesh–melting fire subside just a fraction.

He blinked at a snail’s pace, having the sheer audacity to muse, even while hovering on the brink of death, that love truly was the greatest miracle cure in the realm.

Ella really was his ultimate panacea.

Even poisoned and dying, just hearing her voice and thinking of her made him feel capable of butchering another hundred men.

“Oracle, you can’t go over there!”

Seeing Elowen trying to rush to his side in a blind panic, Valessa yanked her back with fierce strength.

Cassian managed to turn his head and look at her.

“I’m fine. Just stay right there and wait for me.”

Locking eyes with him, Elowen took a shaky breath and forced out a nod. “Alright.”

“How could you possibly be fine?”

214

Chapter 790 A Brush With Death

Finished

Ronan let out a dark, mocking chuckle.

Cassian turned his head back to face him at an agonizing pace.

Ronan flashed a vicious smirk. “That powder is lethal to the touch. A fraction of that packet is enough to slaughter a wild wolf. With the amount you just inhaled, your insides must be melting. You’re paralyzed, and it won’t be long before-”

Before he could finish his sentence, Cassian exploded off the ground like a fully drawn bow snapping loose.

A flash of silver slashed through the air, severing Ronan’s right arm with one brutal, uninterrupted swing.

The blade sliced clean through the shoulder joint, and a geyser of blood erupted from the stump.

Caught up in his own arrogant gloating, Ronan never saw it coming.

His pupils shrank to pinpricks as he collapsed into the dirt, clamping his left hand over the spurting wound. “How is that possible…”

A poison that lethal should have paralyzed him the exact second it hit his lungs; how the hell could he still stand, let alone swing a sword?!

Standing over him, Cassian coughed very softly and asked, “What were you saying?”

His face ashen white, Ronan hissed through his teeth, “You’ve been poisoned with a lethal toxin! Aside from me… there is no cure anywhere in the world…”

This was his absolute final trump card.

If the Duke wanted to live, he had to let him go–he would even have to drop to his knees and beg for the antidote.

VERIFYCAPTCHA_LABELVerify