The Dragon King and His Fallen Star novel Chapter 148

Chapter 148: Face to Face with Her Nightmare

EIRLYS’ POV

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One moment we were following Nibbles out of the courtyard; the next, a pulse of blinding light swept through us. In a blink, the courtyard was gone. And we stood in the blight-infested ruins of Val’Thirael.

Nibbles skidded to a stop, a low growl rumbling from deep in his chest. Before us, Evander hung in chains, battered and bleeding, his chest rising and falling with ragged breaths. Behind him, the three witches flinched at the sudden surge of power.

Beneath Nibbles’ massive paws, Morwenna lay face-first in the dirt, stunned. The rabbit swiped, claws raking across her shoulders and leaving a deep scratch on her cheek before she dissolved into writhing shadows.

“What the hell is this?!” one of the witches spat, stumbling back, eyes wide with terror.

In an instant, King Lucius and Prince Draven blurred into our midst, moving faster than the eye could follow.

The witches never had a chance. A storm of teeth and claws met them before they could react. Blood sprayed, screams cut off mid-word, eyes widening in shock-then, lifeless. The King and the Prince reappeared a heartbeat later, fangs bared, crimson streaked across their hands. Each of them licked the blood deliberately, an eerie calm settling over the ruin.

I wasted no time. My feet pounded the blighted ground as I ran toward Evander, feeling the cold, dark chains clutch at him. I ignited my glow, and the chains shuddered, groaned, then shattered into jagged fragments of blackened metal.

Scylla was there in an instant, steady-armed, catching him. Evander’s limp body collapsed against her, dragging her down with him to the cold ground.

She ran her fingers over Evander’s skin, dry and gray like tree bark. “What happened to him?” Scylla whispered.

“He’s going to need blood,” Prince Draven said calmly, eyes flicking to Scylla.

Without hesitation, she slashed her palm, letting crimson droplets fall onto Evander’s lips. Moments later, his eyes snapped open-blazing red, veins darkening like cracks across his skin. He still seemed disoriented, the toll of the torture written across every line of his face.

And then, with a sudden, feral motion, he bared his fangs. Before any of us could react, he seized Scylla and sank his teeth into her neck. She gasped, body jerking, but made no move

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< Chapter 148: Face to Face with Her Nightmare

to fight. Her eyes stayed wide-a mix of pain and grim acceptance, as though she understood this was the only way to bring him back.

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Evander didn’t stop. His grip was iron, his mouth latched hungrily to Scylla’s neck, and I saw her swaying, her strength bleeding out with every pull.

Panic clawed at my chest. I moved to reach for him, but Kierygan stepped in front of me.

“No, Eirlys,” he warned, his voice firm. “He’s not himself. He could hurt you.”

That was when King Lucius and Prince Draven intervened. Together, they wrenched Evander back.

“Enough,” King Lucius commanded, his voice echoing like steel through the chamber.

Evander thrashed in their grip, fangs bared, eyes blazing crimson. A feral hiss tore from his throat, primal and wild-as if he didn’t even recognize his own blood restraining him.

“I said enough, son!” Lucius thundered, his gaze hard and unyielding. “You’ll drain Scylla dry.”

At the sound of her name, something pierced the haze. Evander stilled, chest heaving, crimson eyes flickering as though waking from a trance. His hands slipped from her shoulders, trembling.

Scylla pressed her palm to her wound, blood still dripping, her face pale but steady.

Evander’s expression twisted, no longer feral but furious. “Why did you do that?” His voice cracked with sharp edges, filled with anger not at himself but at her. “Are you out of your

mind?”

Scylla said nothing. She only rose from the ground, though her steps faltered, her body swaying as though the earth itself threatened to pull her under.

Evander cursed under his breath and caught her before she could collapse, his arm locking tight around her waist. His eyes blazed, fury and worry tangled together.

“You could have died, stupid,” he snapped, voice ragged, almost breaking. “You don’t need foresight to see that.”

Scylla sighed, as if his fury were no more than a breeze against stone. Her pale hand rose, catching his collar. “Shut up,” she murmured, and yanked him down into a kiss.

The world stilled. Evander froze, golden eyes wide with shock. Then slowly, he answered- hesitant at first, then with a desperate hunger. He pulled her close, as though she were the only thing holding him back from the abyss.

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A cough broke the silence. Ulyanna, standing at the edge of the ruin with her hands glowing faintly from the ward she had been weaving, arched a brow. “I hate to disrupt your long overdue kiss,” she said, her tone dry as bone, “but unless you two plan to die in each other’s arms here, we have to go.”

Evander and Scylla pulled apart, both gasping for air. Evander’s head snapped toward Kierygan and me, eyes wide with fear.

“Ulyanna’s right. We have to go. Now.” His voice cracked, urgent. “We can’t stay here. Especially you, Eirlys.”

My stomach clenched. “Why? What do you mean?”

“They got what they needed.” His jaw tightened, and shame flickered across his features. ” The First Song. They tore it out of my mind. That’s why they took me.”

The words hit like ice sliding down my spine. They had all three relics. All they needed now

was me.

Before I could speak, the ground trembled beneath us. Dust cascaded from the ruined arches, blackened stone cracking. Ulyanna’s ward flared violently, sparks dancing before my

eyes.

“He’s coming,” she whispered, voice sharp with dread.

Then the earth split, roots bursting upward, thick and fast, wrapping around our ankles. I gasped, yanking at them, but they tightened like iron shackles. Around me, everyone struggled, ensnared in the same relentless grip-except Nibbles, who shrank back to his

normal size and darted off to hide.

“Eirlys!” Kierygan’s roar rolled across the ruin as he drew his blade, hacking at his restraints.

Hold on!”

And then the air shifted-colder, heavier, pressing down like a living weight.

“”

Wisps coalesced from nothing, twisting into shapes that were neither shadow nor nightmare but something far worse. They stretched higher and higher, and I felt impossibly small.

When the last tendril of mist curled away, I was staring into the abyss-no face, only a writhing shroud of void, two eyes burning like collapsed stars.

The Light Reaper.

And for the first time, I understood what true terror meant.

I flinched as a tendril of darkness slithered toward my chin. My glow flickered instinctively,

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but the Light Reaper’s presence pressed against it like a hand trying to snuff it out. His eerie, hollow laugh reverberated through the blight-choked air.

“We meet at last,” he said, his voice like ice grinding against stone. My skin prickled.

A sickening growl echoed, and he tilted his unseen head, inhaling slowly. “How… beautiful. How delicious… is your light.” The air between us almost tasted of rot. “Soon, it will be mine.”

A roar tore through the ruin. “Don’t you dare touch her,” Kierygan warned.

The Light Reaper laughed, his form swaying like smoke. “I will deal with all of you… after I am done with her.”

Two more wisps coalesced beside him, solidifying into the cruelly familiar forms of Morwenna and Mirael. My pulse quickened, buried hatred for them flaring like wildfire.

Mirael’s eyes flicked between Klerygan and me, a cruel smile tugging at her lips. “I hope you’ve enjoyed your honeymoon,” she said, voice silky venom. “Because today is your last day

as mates.”

Her gaze swept the group. “All of you will turn to dust.”

The ground shuddered beneath us as the roots constricted again, pinning us in place. Mirael stepped toward Kierygan, voice thick with mockery. “Except you, my love. You… will be mine

soon.”

Kierygan’s face shimmered with scales, eyes blazing blue and silver. I could feel the heat radiating from him even from here. “That’s never going to happen,” he said, voice sharp and

unyielding.

Mirael only laughed, cold and cruel. “We’ll see about that.”

She glided back to the Light Reaper’s side, her movements eerily graceful, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips.

Morwenna cleared her throat, tilting her head with a serpent-like elegance. “My Lord… shall we begin?” she asked, her voice silk wrapped around steel.

A low, approving groan rumbled from the Light Reaper, shaking the very air around us.

Then, more roots erupted from the ground with a brutal force, thickening and twisting around me. They coiled tighter and tighter, iron-clad and unyielding. My lungs burned, every breath a struggle, my chest heaving against their cruel grip.

My vision blurred, edges darkening, the world tilting and spinning as the shadows pressed in. Panic clawed at my mind, and I felt the cold brush of despair settling over me.

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Yet even as darkness began to swallow me whole, a single, desperate sound cut through: Kierygan’s voice, roaring my name, raw with fear and fury.

“Eirlys! Stay with me!” he cried, though his words seemed impossibly far away.

I floated in the void, weightless, suspended between fear and the unknown. The darkness pressed against me, a suffocating tide, but then, another voice pierced the gloom. It was soft, warm, and familiar.

“My dear child,” the voice whispered, gentle and steady.

I trembled and called back, voice barely more than a breath. “Mother… is this it? Is this how it ends?”

But her voice replied with the words I had heard countless times in my dreams, echoing through my mind like a melody threaded with hope: “Shine your light, Eirlys. It’s the only way.

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