Chapter 116: A Daughter’s Unforgiving Arrow

The arrow struck.

Its silver shaft pierced Daemon’s chest directly through the heart, bursting out through his back in a spray of blood. The tremendous force drove a sharp impact through his body, and droplets of crimson scattered across the polished stone floor.

For a brief moment, silence swallowed the chamber.

Zephyra’s eyes widened.

She had poured an enormous amount of energy into that arrow, intending to punish the man who had deceived her mother. She had expected him to dodge, raise a defensive barrier, or at least attempt to protect himself.

Yet he had done none of those things.

Daemon remained standing.

Blood trickled down his abdomen, staining the waistband of his black pants. His damp hair fell across his forehead, and his body swayed slightly under the devastating impact. The arrow’s power continued to vibrate through the room, its silver-gold radiance slowly fading.

But Daemon didn’t look at his wound.

He looked at Zephyra.

His daughter.

The girl he had never watched take her first steps. The child whose first words he had never heard. The daughter whose childhood had passed without his presence, leaving her to grow into a formidable young woman while he remained unaware of her existence.

He had imagined meeting her countless times since learning the truth.

In those imagined moments, she might have run into his arms, questioned him about his absence, or even slapped him for making her wait.

He had prepared himself to face her anger.

But he had never imagined that their first meeting would end with an arrow through his heart.

Even now, however, he couldn’t bring himself to blame her.

So this is my daughter’s strength.

A faint, bittersweet smile appeared on his bloodied face.

She’s grown so strong.

The thought brought him a strange sense of pride, even as pain began spreading throughout his chest.

Then he heard a scream.

"DAEMON!"

Morwenna jolted awake.

She had been sleeping peacefully only moments earlier, exhausted after the long night she had shared with her beloved husband. But the sound of the impact and the overwhelming energy filling the chamber had torn her from her sleep.

Her eyes immediately found Daemon.

Then she saw the arrow piercing his chest.

For one horrifying second, she couldn’t breathe.

"No..."

She threw aside the silk blanket and rushed toward him, barely noticing her disheveled appearance.

"Daemon!"

She reached him and caught his arm before his weakening body could fall.

Blood stained her fingers.

The sight sent a wave of terror through her heart.

She had waited four hundred years for this man. Four hundred years of loneliness, grief, and nights spent wondering whether she would ever see him again.

She had only just regained his warmth.

She had only just fallen asleep in the safety of his embrace.

And now he was bleeding in front of her.

Again, the world threatened to take him away.

"Let me heal you!" Morwenna cried, raising her trembling hands toward his chest. Divine energy immediately gathered around her palms. "Don’t move! I’ll stop the bleeding!"

But before her healing power could reach the wound, Daemon gently caught her wrist.

"Morwenna, wait."

"Wait?!" Her voice broke. "How can you tell me to wait when there’s an arrow through your heart?"

"This is a poisoned arrow!" Morwenna cried, examining the wound. "Its toxin is attacking your muscles and veins. If I don’t suppress it immediately, it could destroy your body from within!"

She hurried to heal him, but Daemon stopped her.

"Not yet."

"Daemon, please!" She clutched his arm, tears filling her eyes. "I just got you back. I can’t lose you again!"

His expression softened as he gently brushed away her tears.

"I’m not leaving you."

"Then stop refusing my help!"

"I will let you treat the wound." His gaze shifted toward Zephyra. "But first, I need to talk to our daughter."

He gave her a reassuring look before turning toward Zephyra.

Then, with the arrow still lodged through his chest, he took his first step.

"Don’t come any closer!"

Zephyra’s sharp voice cut through the chamber.

Her bow remained pointed at Daemon, but her expression had changed. The confidence she had felt when releasing the arrow had begun to fracture.

Why hadn’t he dodged?

Why hadn’t he attacked her?

Why was he looking at her like that?

But this man was different.

He was standing there with a hole through his chest, yet his eyes held no hatred.

He didn’t even seem angry.

Instead, he looked at her as though she were something precious that he had spent an eternity searching for.

It made her furious.

"Stop looking at me like that!" she shouted. "Do you think you can fool me with that expression?"

Daemon stopped.

"I don’t want to fool you, Zephyra."

"Then tell me the truth!"

Her voice trembled with rage.

"Who are you? Why did you approach my mother? What did you do to her?"

Daemon’s lips parted, but no answer came immediately.

How could he explain four hundred years of separation to a daughter who believed he was nothing more than a deceitful stranger?

How could he tell her that he hadn’t known she existed until recently?

How could he make her understand that the woman she had protected for so long was also the woman he had loved before fate tore them apart?

He wanted to tell her everything.

But first, he needed her to hear him.

"I’m sorry," he said quietly.

Zephyra’s eyes widened in disbelief.

"Sorry?"

"Yes."

"For what? For seducing my mother? For taking advantage of her trust?"

"No." Daemon’s voice remained gentle. "I’m sorry that I’ve made you afraid of me."

Zephyra’s fingers tightened around her bow.

"Don’t pretend to care about me!"

"I’m not pretending."

"Then why are you looking at me as if—"

She abruptly stopped.

As if she were someone he loved.

As if her anger hurt him more than the arrow she had driven through his heart.

Zephyra hated that thought.

She hated the confusion spreading through her chest.

Most of all, she hated the possibility that she might be wrong.

For years, she had protected Morwenna from men who wanted to exploit her.

She had never regretted protecting her mother.

And she wouldn’t start now.

"Stay away from her!" Zephyra shouted. "If you take another step, I’ll shoot again!"

Daemon looked at the bow in her hands.

Then he looked into her eyes.

"All right."

He lowered his gaze briefly, accepting her warning without argument.

"But before you shoot again, will you listen to one thing I have to say?"

"No!"

"Just one thing."

"I said no!"

Zephyra released another wave of energy into her bow. The silver-white weapon vibrated in her grasp, and the air around its string began to distort.

He simply stood before her, bleeding, while his daughter prepared to attack him again.

And somehow, that hurt more than the arrow.

Not because she was harming him.

But because he understood why she was doing it.

She had grown up learning that she must stand between her mother and the dangers of the world.

Now, after everything she had endured, he had appeared in her life looking like precisely the kind of man she had sworn to keep away.

How could he blame her for refusing to trust him?

I’m sorry, Zephyra.

Daemon took another step.

"STOP!"

Zephyra’s scream echoed through the chamber.

But Daemon continued walking.

"ZEPHYRA, ENOUGH!"

Morwenna’s voice rang out with a force that shook the chamber.

The princess flinched.

Her mother had never shouted at her like that—not with such desperation, not with such unmistakable fear.

Morwenna stepped forward, tears streaming down her face.

"Put down your bow!"

Zephyra stared at her.

"Mother, move away from him! He’s deceiving you!"

"No, he’s not!"

"You’re being manipulated! You can’t see it because—"

"HE IS YOUR FATHER!"

The words exploded through the room.

Everything stopped.

Zephyra’s fingers went still against the bowstring.

For a moment, she thought she had misunderstood.

"What... did you say?"

Morwenna struggled to steady her breathing. Her eyes moved between her daughter and the bleeding man who continued approaching despite the terrible wound in his chest.

"He is your father, Zephyra."

"No."

The answer escaped the princess before she could think.

Morwenna shook her head, tears spilling down her cheeks.

"That is Daemon Ashborne. Your father. The man I loved before fate separated us. The man I waited four hundred years to see again."

"No..."

Zephyra took an involuntary step backward.

Her gaze returned to Daemon.

The damp dark hair.

The familiar eyes that had looked at her with inexplicable tenderness.

The way he had refused to defend himself, even when she had aimed an attack directly at his heart.

The way he had called her by name—not with contempt, not with the coldness of a stranger, but with an aching familiarity she couldn’t understand.

My daughter.

She remembered the expression in his eyes.

She remembered the softness in his voice.

And suddenly, those details felt different.

No longer the calculated performance of a man trying to deceive a queen.

They looked like the grief of someone who had lost something precious long before he even knew what it was.

Zephyra’s breathing became uneven.

"No," she whispered again, but this time her voice lacked conviction. "That’s impossible. My father..."

The same man she had just shot through the heart.

Zephyra’s bow began to tremble.