Sylvara's Rebirth: A New Dawn for Abel novel Chapter 182

Sylvara’s Rebirth: A New Dawn for Abel

Chapter 182 Rheys Varrow

Finished

Agares’ brow tightened, his expression cold as he spoke with calm authority. “No. Our species is different. There’s a biological barrier. We can’t reproduce.”

Rheys noticed Sylvara ignoring him. Blood soaked his bare chest, yet he still spread his arms wide with at wild grin. “Sweetheart, don’t waste your time on him. Look at me. Come here.”

“Over my dead body,” Agares growled and lunged, driving his saber toward Rheys in one swift motion.

Metal clashed in a violent ring that tore through the silence.

Sylvara stepped in between them, Smokewillow slamming against Agares’ blade and stopping it mid-strike.

In the same instant, her weapon split in two. One half plunged into the ground, striking hard enough to knock Veyric unconscious and roll him off to the side like discarded baggage.

Agares stared at the weapon blocking his path, his voice low and rough. “You-”

Sylvara flashed him a smile. “Your Highness, he’s mine. Don’t interfere. Just stand there and watch.”

Rheys’s golden eyes shimmered with a dangerous mix of excitement, joy, and madness. His gaze burned into her like a net tightening around its prey. “That’s right, Agares. I’m hers. I belong only to her. You can’t touch me.”

Agares’s frown deepened. Sylvara was unyielding, her eyes bright and daring. The situation was growing messier by the second. He hesitated, then asked, “You’re certain about that?”

Sylvara smiled like it was the easiest thing in the world. “Of course I am. He hugged me, told me I smelled good, said he wanted to bite me, and even offered me his arms to rest in.

“I can stay there as long as I want. He said there’s only room for me. So, yes, he’s mine, and you’re not allowed to touch him.”

Rheys leaned closer to Agares, smugness written all over his bloodstained face.

Who even talked like that?

Agares’ eyes turned as deep as the night. He stared at Sylvara for a long, heavy moment before speaking in a quiet warning. “Different species have different ways of life. And you still have a newly registered husband waiting for you in the Hunting Legion.”

Sylvara almost burst out laughing.

Oh, he’s so endearing.

He actually thought she might lose her head and run off with Rheys to the Swarmborn, so he decided to lecture her-honestly and awkwardly-about species differences and moral values.

A reproductive barrier and a husband waiting for her?

That kind of straight-laced, oblivious earnestness was too adorably painful to resist.

1/3

Sat,

Chapter 182 Rheys Varrow

15

Finished

“I do have a newly registered husband.” Sylvara admitted, her tone full of mock complaint. “But I already told you he’s just like you-he regrets getting married. He’s been waiting for your legion’s next leave so he can file for divorce.” It was that clueless man’s fault for saying “divorce” every damn day.

If he didn’t, they could’ve been hugging, showing off, and kicking ass together. Wouldn’t that have been perfect?

Agares’ eyes narrowed as he stared at her, his expression unreadable.

Sylvara felt a pang of uncase under his gaze. She replayed her words carefully in her head, checking for cracks. He shouldn’t have any reason to suspect she was his wife.

“Alright,” she said smoothly, breaking the tension. “Your Highness, let me borrow your blade for a second.”

She spun around, her hand gliding along the back of his saber until her fingers brushed the hilt-and met Agares’ hand in a brief, charged touch.

Sylvara tested the weight of the saber, shifting her stance with slow precision.

Rheys’s eyes blazed with feverish hunger. He breathed in deeply, as if savoring the air itself, his gaze never leaving her. He didn’t even seem to notice the blade in her hand. With blood streaked across his bare chest, he spread his arms wide and stepped closer. “I love the warmth of your body. I love your scent. Hold me.”

Sylvara lifted the saber between them, her other arm opening slightly. Her dark eyes gleamed with dangerous amusement, her voice dripping with mock sweetness. “Alright, baby. If you’re not scared of my blade, then come on. I’ll hold you.”

Rheys’s golden pupils narrowed into slits that glowed with manic excitement. He licked his lips slowly, a grin stretching across his face. “Good. I’m coming. Don’t drop me.”

Sylvara didn’t move. The edge of her blade shimmered, cold and merciless in the dim light.

Rheys stepped forward, pressing himself against the point. He didn’t stop. He kept walking, the steel slicing through his bloody chest, sliding deep into his flesh.

Blood burst out of the wound, pouring down like a red waterfall.

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