Reincarnated As The Villainess's Son - Chapter 180 [Brightest Star] [End]

Chapter 180  [Brightest Star] [End]

Boom!

A thunderous explosion erupted in the area, Azariah’s body slamming hard against the ground.

His hands gripped tightly around both Tiffany and Willis, shielding them with the help of his wings.

“Huff… Huff…”

His ragged breath echoed through the garden as he looked around.

Wherever his gaze landed, everything stood still, unmoving like statues.

His uneven breath calmed down a little, his gaze settling on the girl kneeling.

A sense of relief washed over him as he looked at her.

[Only 4 seconds, Az. Run away!]

El’s voice abruptly jolted him awake, and his wings propelled him up from the ground.

At full speed, he rushed towards Ashlyn, picking her up just as his awakening ended.

Turning around, his gaze landed on Roen, who stood still.

A desire to kill him right there flashed through his mind, but he quickly shook the thought away.

‘Now is not the time.’

Flapping his wings and inclining his body upwards, he lifted himself and the others high into the air, fleeing with all his strength.

His stamina quickly began to deplete while carrying them, the two holes in his wrists burning with pain.

The muscles in his back strained, his wings needing more strength with each flap, and the heavy weight he carried didn’t help much.

Darkness loomed over him, his vision blurring, the mental torture he had endured taking its toll.

[…Az.]

“Yeah,” Azariah whispered, gripping them a little tighter as he heard El’s tired voice. “Hey, are you alright?”

[…I’ll be asleep for a while. Don’t die when I’m not around.]

“Huh?”

A startled sound escaped his mouth as he heard those words.

“El, did something happen to you?” he asked, but there was no reply.

“Haah!”

The world around him resumed, the noises of the city filling the air again, and a gasp escaped Ashlyn’s lips.

Her confused eyes looked around before landing to her side.

“Tiffany!”

She yelled, grabbing her sister.

“Hey! Ashlyn!”

Azariah yelled, her movement throwing him off balance.

His wings spasmed with pain as they all plummeted downward.

“Fuck.”

Azariah cursed under his breath as he looked down, falling.

His gaze landed on the terrace of a building, and clutching the others tightly, he twisted his body so his back faced the concrete roof.

Boom!

A thunderous sound echoed as his body collided with the roof, dust and debris filling the air.

The bodies of Ashlyn and Tiffany slammed hard against his ribs.

“Cough… cough.”

Coughing violently, Ashlyn rolled away, her gaze frantically scanning the area until it landed on Tiffany.

“…Tiffy.”

She whispered softly, wrapping her arms around her sister and hugging her tightly, tears trickling down her cheeks.

Azariah glanced at them before his gaze fell on the boy curled up in his arms.

“Hey, Willis.” Azariah whispered, patting his head.

Willis looked up at him with teary eyes, his face filled with terror.

“…Dada.” He choked out the word, hugging Azariah. “She was scary.”

“She was,” Azariah whispered, hugging him back. “But you’re fine now.”

Willis sniffled, holding onto him like Ashlyn held her sister.

His tears soaked Azariah’s body.

‘…Wait.’

Azariah lifted his head slightly, looking at his naked body.

His bruised-up form, covered in thousands of cuts, lay bare.

‘…Fuck!’

He cursed, trying to cover himself with his wings.

…But it was already too late.

“…A-Az.”

Ashlyn’s trembling voice echoed in his ears. He sighed, patting Willis to move.

Willis turned into a cluster of white before returning to the tattoo embedded on his side.

Lifting himself, Azariah leaned against the terrace wall, gazing at Ashlyn.

“…You look good,” he commented, observing her.

Her golden eyes had turned even brighter, glowing softly.

Her hair unlike her usual brown was now a blend of gold and platinum streaks.

Her beautiful face had become even more stunning, her skin lighter than before.

Ashlyn gently laid her sister down before slowly crawling toward him.

Her gaze lingered on his damaged body. She gulped down her anxiety, her eyes crucifying him.

“…How?” she asked, sitting on her knees.

Her trembling hands reached out, touching the deep cut on his torso.

“…Are you alright?” Azariah whispered weakly, observing her.

His concerned words made Ashlyn break down, gasping for breath as tears streamed down her cheeks.

“I… I’m sorry,” she whimpered, silently reaching out and grabbing his hand, squeezing it tightly.

“…I’m… sorry for always… being a burden.” She choked out the words, her voice filled with pain and regret.

Though she didn’t know how he got all those scars, she knew it had something to do with her.

“…Hey, Ashlyn,” Azariah whispered weakly, his eyelids growing heavy, “Look after me for a while.”

“…Az,” Ashlyn whispered softly, shaking him anxiously.

Her hand reached out, touching his face, noticing him sleeping peacefully. n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om

“…”

She looked at his sleeping face, his body leaning against the wall.

Myriad emotions filled her mind as her gaze lowered slightly.

She waited for a few minutes, blankly staring at his face.

Many things began to make sense to her now.

“…I’m sorry.”

She whispered softly, shifting her body to face him.

Her hands reached out, her palms landing on the wall on either side of Azariah’s head.

Her gaze fixed on his neck, afraid to lift her eyes to his face.

“…I’m sorry.”

She whispered again, feeling dizzy from his intoxicating scent.

Her hard stare drilled into him as her face slowly lowered.

She held her breath and let her lips brush lightly against his.

Her breath hitched, making it harder to draw air.

Then she pulled away a few inches, her tongue brushing his bottom lip, as if tasting what she had just done.

“…I’m sorry.”

She whispered, bringing her arms up to circle his neck, holding him as she kissed him again like she might never get the chance again.

She inhaled his scent, swallowing it into the deepest parts of her mind, whimpering with every kiss.

“…Argh.”

A low groan escaped Azariah’s mouth as she bit down little harder on his lip.

She quickly jumped back in fright, her breath ragged.

“…Sigh.”

She sighed in relief that Azariah hadn’t woken up.

“…Ah.”

Her face began to heat up as she realized what she had done.

Lowering her gaze, she looked at her heaving chest, her lips parting.

“…Holy shit, I’m lost.”

…..

…..

…..

Kill him.

A part of her spoke as she walked aimlessly through the empty garden.

Kill him before he makes you love him again.

‘Shut up!’

Shyamal screamed in her mind, her head aching with a dull, throbbing pain.

The voices kept haunting her, repeating the same words over and over.

The voice had started when she was a small child, before she knew anything.

It encouraged her, praised her, soothed her worries whenever she followed its commands.

Like when she killed an innocent bird at three.

…A cat at four.

…A maid at five.

Her crimson eyes blankly looked up, staring at the countless stars adorning the night sky.

“…Why did you leave me, brother?” she whispered softly, lowering her gaze. “…It’s hard living without you.”

She remembered how he was always there for her, how he took care of her every need, how he always loved her.

“…”

Her expression hardened as another person came to mind.

A boy with purple hair and eyes smiling brightly, patting her head with his hand filled with scratching marks.

“…Where is he?” she grumbled, “…How did he just vanish without telling anyone?”

She anxiously bit her nails, pacing around the garden.

Since the day he returned from the trip, she sensed a familiar feeling from him.

As absurd as it sounded, he gave off the exact feeling that the voice inside her did.

…The same ominous feeling she couldn’t fathom.

She wanted to know more, even though the desire to kill grew stronger around him.

“Shyamal?”

Her gaze slowly turned as she heard someone call her name.

A boy with brown hair looked at her, confused. Walking closer, he asked, “What are you doing here?”

Shyamal tilted her head as she asked, equally confused, “…Who are you?”

But as he got closer, nausea filled her mind, making her remember who he was.

“Stop joking.” Ethan chuckled softly, but his steps halted as she hastily moved back.

“…Stay where you are if you don’t want to die,” she threatened, glaring at him, trying to suppress her urge to vomit.

“…What?” Ethan asked, frozen in place.

“Are you deaf or what?” she scoffed, turning away. “If you have nothing to say, I’ll take my leave.”

“Do you remember Asher?”

Shyamal’s steps halted abruptly at the familiar name.

She slowly turned, her eyes filled with murderous intent, controlling herself as she asked, “…What about him?”

Taking a deep breath, Ethan stared at her. “…He was your playmate when you were a child, right?”

A scythe appeared in her hand as Shyamal asked coldly, “…Who told you that?”

“No one,” Ethan replied, shaking his head. “…No one needs to tell me that.”

“…What do you mean?” she asked, frowning.

“….Because I am him,” Ethan replied firmly, staring into her crimson eyes. “…I am Asher Lye Heimdall.”