Sons of a devil-Chapter 99: A kingdom reforged

Their father, older now, lines of guilt carved into his expression, stood beside her. He did not raise his voice but bowed his head.

"I was a broken man. But it was my sons who reminded me what love looked like."

Gasps rippled through the crowd as he stepped down from the dais and knelt before the brothers.

"I do not ask forgiveness. But I pledge loyalty—to the future you choose."

Cain hesitated—then helped him to his feet.

"There is still so much to fix," he said. "But we'll do it together."

A cheer broke the tension. Then another. And soon the room erupted in claps, shouts, and laughter.

Later that evening, the palace erupted into celebration. Music spilled through the halls, and tables overflowed with food. Eren had convinced several maids to join him in dancing—badly. Leo challenged one of the generals to a drinking contest and promptly lost. Selene stole Cain away to the quiet gardens where fireflies danced in the trees.

"I was afraid," she admitted, curling into his side on the stone bench. "That you'd change. That this kingdom would change you."

Cain looked at her, brushing her cheek. "It did. But not the way I feared. I found my place. You're part of that."

"I love you, Cain."

"I love you, too. Even when you kick me in your sleep."

Selene laughed, smacking his arm playfully. "That happened once."

"Twice. And I nearly died the second time."

The brothers eventually joined them in the garden, tumbling over each other like overgrown puppies. Their mother appeared behind them, watching with an unreadable expression.

"I thought I'd lose all of you," she said softly. "But you came back."

"You saved us first," Leo replied.

They lit lanterns that night—one for every soul lost in battle, every memory that needed honoring. The stars above blinked in silent tribute.

And from a high tower in the palace, a cloaked figure watched them with burning eyes. A whisper echoed behind him.

"They think it's over."

He smiled, dark and knowing.

"It's only just begun."

As the night deepened, the once bright and festive palace began to quiet, its laughter and dancing now settling into a peaceful hum. In the gardens, torches burned low, casting flickering shadows across the marble statues and hedges trimmed into the sigils of the old and new dynasty.

Cain stood alone now, leaning against a pillar with his arms folded, his cloak rustling in the gentle breeze. From the distance, he could hear Leo snoring softly—having fallen asleep halfway into telling a dramatic story to a group of maids—and Eren laughing from somewhere on the roof, probably still challenging the stars to a duel.

Selene emerged from the shadows behind him, barefoot and wearing a long dark velvet cloak over her nightdress. Her silver hair shimmered like moonlight, and her eyes, so full of secrets and storm, met his as she stepped closer.

"You slipped away," she said softly.

"I needed air," Cain murmured. "It's been... a long road."

Selene reached for his hand and held it tightly. "And you still think you're walking it alone?"

He sighed, the weight of everything—the kingdom, the battles, the promises—tightening in his chest. "Sometimes, it still feels like I'm fighting ghosts."

Selene touched his cheek. "Then let's haunt them together."

Cain let out a quiet laugh and leaned in to kiss her—slow, aching, and full of everything unsaid. The kiss broke only when a voice called from behind the columns:

"Okay, okay! Stop before you make me gag."

Leo strolled in with bed hair and a plate of leftover sweets, Eren trailing behind him shirtless, holding a goblet of wine and a sword he definitely didn't need.

Cain narrowed his eyes. "Why are you holding a sword at two in the morning?"

"Because the moon asked me to spar," Eren said solemnly, then blinked. "Wait, or was it a dream?"

Selene laughed. "You're both idiots."

Their mother appeared behind them all, regal even in her simple robes. She looked at the four of them—her sons and the girl who had become their anchor—and smiled. For the first time in decades, it wasn't forced.

"I used to believe I needed power to protect this kingdom," she said. "But I see now... I just needed my family whole."

A low hum of energy began to ripple through the wind then—barely perceptible, but Cain felt it like a pulse in his bones. He turned, eyes narrowing.

"Did you feel that?"

Leo straightened, alert. "Yeah... something just shifted."

A ripple of energy trembled through the trees. The torchlights flickered, and the air grew still—too still.

Selene stiffened. "Something's wrong."

Before anyone could speak further, a soldier sprinted through the garden gates, breathless and pale.

"Sires—Lady Selene—You need to see this."

They followed him to the observatory tower. From the top, the kingdom's borders stretched into the distance. And there, glowing on the horizon like a jagged wound, was a rip in the sky—bleeding red light into the clouds.

A tremor passed beneath their feet.

Cain clenched his jaw. "That's not natural."

Their mother stepped forward, her expression darkening. "I've seen this once before. Long ago. Before even your father knew war."

"What is it?" Selene asked.

"A gate," she whispered. "Not just to another world—but to something ancient. Something hungry."

As the family stared into the bleeding sky, a low, guttural roar echoed from the rift, shaking the clouds.

Cain gripped his sword, eyes reflecting fire. "Then let them come."

And the stars blinked overhead, as if warning them of the war yet to come.