The King Of War Returns (Jaden Rift) novel Chapter 162

Kaelus didn’t ease into it. He spoke with the gravity of a man delivering a funeral sentence.

"Her name is Selene Verrick."

That family. Jaden clenched his jaw. The Verricks were old money. Royal blood. Obsessed with reputation, obsessed with control. Any deviation from their perfect narrative was erased—either with silence or force.

Kaelus continued, "After the incident, they disowned her. No trial. No questions. They threw her out like waste. Her and her newborn."

Jaden closed his eyes.

They had cast her aside, a victim of circumstance, made to carry shame that was never hers to bear. A life of exile, scraping by in the shadows, branded by a past she never chose. And the daughter… his daughter… born into that pain.

"Her daughter's name is Mira," Kaelus said.

Mia.

The name echoed in his head like a bell toll.

He imagined her—tiny hands, cold nights, hunger gnawing at her ribs while her mother shielded her from the wind. Years of struggle. Years of being hunted, forgotten, and alone.

It hollowed him.

Jaden stared past the arena’s ruins, past the crowd, past the blood beneath his boots. None of it mattered now.

Selene.

Mia.

He hadn’t just failed to find them. He’d failed to protect them from the fallout of his own war.

Kaelus stood firm, his voice steady but softer now. “I know it must’ve been hell for both of them. But that ends here.”

Jaden’s knuckles were white, fists clenched.

“I swear on my name… on my blood… I will give them the life they were robbed of. They will never suffer again. From this moment forward… only joy. Only peace.”

A vow. Not a promise.

And then all hell broke loose.

From the edge of the stands, a deranged scream pierced the air.

Michael Thornfell.

Blood on his shirt. Madness in his eyes. And a gun in his hand.

He stormed out like a demon loosed from the gates—screaming, spit flying, dragging vengeance behind him like a storm.

“You think killing my father ends this?” he shrieked. “You think that makes us even?!”

The crowd scattered in panic.

He raised the pistol. Finger tight on the trigger.

“You took everything from me, Jaden! Now watch me return the favor!”

A shot rang out—

—but it didn’t come from Michael.

Before he could fire, one of Kaelus’s men moved like lightning, a ghost in armor. The gun was ripped from Michael’s hand, twisted in a clean break. Bone snapped. Michael screamed, collapsing as his wrist hung limp like wet rope.

Jaden stepped toward him, each bootfall like a gavel slamming down.

He looked down at the broken wreck of a man.

“This isn’t revenge,” he said coldly. “This is karma.”

Michael groaned, writhing in pain.

“What your family did to me ten years ago… this is the consequence.”

He leaned closer.

“You walk out of here now, I’ll spare your life. Try anything again, you join your father in hell.”

Michael spat blood, sneering. “You self-righteous bastard.”

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