The Devil's Cursed Witch novel Chapter 491

Draven reached the witch clan territory with Rhian and Ember. The witch clan had already been alerted the moment they sensed the Divine Dragon's presence in the air.

Every supernatural in the kingdom was on high alert — their instincts triggered the moment Draven had transformed into his dragon form, a clear sign that the most powerful beast had used his powers.

After so long, everyone witnessed a Black Dragon soaring across the sky of Agartha.

The black dragon landed gracefully at the witch clan's healing chamber, where Rhian was immediately taken under Cornelia's guidance.

"I tried to keep that black magic at bay using my darkness," Draven explained, "but his human body can't withstand my power for long."

"Don't worry, Your Majesty," Cornelia assured. "Later, we may need your divine power to heal his soul."

Draven hummed quietly, and Cornelia entered the healing chamber, leaving Ember and Draven standing outside.

Ember remained silent, her eyes fixed on the closed door.

The last words her brother had spoken echoed painfully in her mind: "No one would harm you. If anyone does, I would be the first one to stand in the way and protect you."

He had proven his words — protecting her from harm. Only if he knew that she couldn't even be harmed by such things anymore.

Draven gently wrapped his arm around her, sensing the worry and conflict in her heart.

"He will be alright," Draven said softly.

She nodded faintly, her voice quiet and filled with pain. "I don't want anyone to die to protect me. I've had enough of that. I'm still not over how Morph sacrificed himself… and now my brother…"

"They did the right thing," Draven said, "because they care for you. It's a man's duty to protect the one he cares for."

"I won't forgive myself if something happens to him," Ember whispered.

"Morph came back fine, didn't he? Your brother will be fine too. Trust Cornelia," Draven assured her, his voice steady and calming.

Ember looked up at him, her eyes still clouded with concern. "Where's Morph? I hope he's not hurt."

"There was no one powerful enough to hurt him," Draven said with certainty.

"But I still need to check," Ember insisted. "Didn't he return with us?"

"He's outside," Draven replied, having already sensed Morpheus nearby.

"Why is he outside?" she murmured, worry lingering in her voice. "Let's check on him."

Together, Draven and Ember stepped outside.

Morpheus was standing some distance away, facing the sky, his back to them. His wings were gone, but a heavy aurastill clung to him — something dark, violent, and barely restrained.

"What's that on your back?" Ember called out gently as she approached him.

Morpheus turned to glance at her.

He had stayed away because he knew she was safe with Draven — and because, moments ago, he had slaughtered people mercilessly, killing the human leader in the most inhuman way possible.

The dark aura of blood and death still clung to him, and he didn't want that darkness to touch his innocent mate.

"There's nothing," Morpheus said flatly.

"Turn around," Ember insisted, her tone firm and commanding.

Morpheus sighed but obeyed, turning around.

Ember's eyes widened in worry when she saw the fine cuts covering Morpheus' entire back, some still faintly glowing from the dark magic.

She turned sharply to Draven. "You said no one was powerful enough to hurt him — then how did this happen?"

"When he was shielding you and your brother with his wings, some of the dark magic attacks reached him before I could fully block them," Draven explained calmly. "He was focused on protecting you — that's how he got hurt."

"Then why hasn't it healed yet?" she asked, knowing full well about their self-healing abilities.

"Those wizards used divine blood in their magic," Draven said. "Even for us, that kind of magic can do real damage. It takes longer to heal."

Ember's worry deepened as she turned to Draven again. "That means you must be hurt too. Turn around — let me check."

Draven, now wearing only the golden hide around his waist after shifting from dragon form, turned so she could see.

"I was defending myself, so I wasn't hurt," he assured her. "Morph, on the other hand, was too busy shielding you. That's why he got hurt."

Satisfied that Draven was fine, Ember turned back to Morpheus, her eyes soft but serious.

"Next time, you're not allowed to protect me at the cost of yourself," she said firmly. "If you do, I'll be angry with you."

"I'm fine," Morpheus tried to assure her, but she cut him off.

"Let's go inside and treat your wounds," she insisted.

"They'll heal on their own."

"The black magic is strong — it could hurt you longer if left untreated," Draven added, backing her up. "Listen to her and get treated."

Morpheus shot him a glare, clearly annoyed that Draven always took Ember's side. "You're of no use."

Draven smirked teasingly. "Want me to treat your wounds, then?"

"I can do it myself," Morpheus grumbled as he walked into the healing chamber.

Spotting Silvia, one of the witches, he said, "Bring me something to treat these wounds."

The young witch immediately obeyed, hurrying to fetch what he asked. A few moments later, she returned with a small wooden bowl filled with herbal paste.

"Commander, please have a seat so I can treat you," she said gently.

It was a healer's job to tend to the wounded in the healing chamber — but someone standing nearby didn't like what she saw.

"Give it to me," Ember said sharply, her tone cold. The possessiveness and displeasure in her voice were clear.

Silvia immediately sensed Ember's shift in temperament and quickly handed the bowl over to her, bowing slightly before leaving in a hurry.

Morpheus and Draven couldn't help but smile at Ember's reaction — their mate had scared the poor witch away.

"Sit there," Ember instructed firmly, pointing to a bench along one side of the room as she took her place behind him.

"I need to put on my clothes," Draven said lightly. "I'll be back in a bit."

Ember gave a small nod, allowing him to leave, her focus fully on Morpheus now.

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