My Vengeance, His Redemption I woke up in a shifter romance novel. Not as the heroine, but as the sickly, wicked villainess, married off to the Lion King himself, a brute known for his violent rages. The System told me: Bear him an heir. Use my super-fertile body to stabilize his royal bloodline, and I’d live. Simple as that. And he did. He grew gentler by the day. He’d awkwardly try to soothe my morning sickness, fiercely fend off all the scheming rivals who eyed his throne, and even cast aside the original heroine for me. I genuinely believed I’d softened his heart with love, bending the story to my will. But he had no idea. The very day I gave birth, the System’s cold, metallic voice echoed in my mind: [Congratulations, Host! Breeding mission complete. Energy full. Initiating sacrifice protocol. Your flesh and blood will reconstruct Queen Lyra’s body.] It hit me then. All his tenderness, all his supposed love… it was all a ploy. He needed me to willingly become a human sacrifice for his true love, Lyra – his ‘White Moonlight.’ On the brink of death, I gathered my last ounce of strength and forged a symbiotic pact with my newborn, divine bloodline cub. “My darling husband, you want my life for her rebirth? Why don’t you ask your own son if he agrees first!”
I held my newborn cub, and Rhys’s kiss brushed my forehead. “My Queen, you’ve been through so much.” His voice was gentle, his eyes overflowing with affection. The cub slept peacefully in my arms, his tiny face flushed, his breathing even. This was the happiest I’d been since I woke up in this cursed book. [Ding! Congratulations, Host! Breeding mission complete. Energy full. Initiating sacrifice protocol. Your flesh and blood will reconstruct Queen Lyra’s body.] The System’s cold, metallic voice rang in my ears. My blood ran cold. Rhys’s eyes turned to ice. All tenderness vanished without a trace. He roughly snatched the crying cub from my arms. “Rhys? What are you doing? Give him back!” I reached out to reclaim my child, but he pushed me away. “Time to fulfill your final purpose.” I was forcibly dragged from the bed, my legs so weak I could barely stand. Post-birth weakness left me utterly defenseless. The altar was ready, bathed in silver moonlight pouring through the high dome. At the altar’s center, Lyra’s ‘perfect doll’ lay still. Her face was identical to mine, yet somehow more exquisite, flawless. Her soul drifted out from a shimmering prayer crystal, clad in a Queen’s gown that should have been mine. Golden embroidery gleamed on the hem of her dress in the moonlight. “Well done, my little breeding tool.” She contemptuously ran a finger down my cheek. “Thank you for bearing such a perfect vessel and bloodline for me.” “Now, it’s my turn to be reborn.” Her smile was beautiful and venomous. Rhys forcibly shoved the wailing cub into Lyra’s arms. The cub, sensing a stranger, cried even harder. “Look closely, this is your true mother.” Rhys pointed at me, his eyes filled with disgust and disdain. “She? She’s just a stain, a filthy vessel that polluted your pure bloodline.” The cub struggled desperately in Lyra’s arms, tiny hands reaching frantically for me, tears blurring his golden eyes. “Mommy… Mommy…” It was his first word. It might be his last. My heart tore into a million pieces. Rhys raised the sacrificial blade, its edge glinting coldly in the moonlight. “Don’t be afraid. Sacrificing your life for Lyra’s rebirth is the greatest honor you could ever achieve.” “You should be proud.” The blade point hovered over my heart. Gazing at his alien, cruel face, everything clicked into place. From start to finish, I was nothing but a tool. A tool to bear their child, to provide the very flesh they needed. The instant the blade was about to plunge into my heart, I bit down hard on my tongue. My heart’s blood surged out, arcing a crimson line through the air. “By my blood, I bind thee! By my soul, I swear!” I screamed the ancient symbiotic pact, pouring every ounce of my spiritual energy into it. “In life and death, we are one! Blood to blood, heart to heart! Harm me, harm my son!” The crimson pact transformed into golden chains, swirling and dancing in the air. One end bound to me, the other searing itself onto the cub’s brow. Golden light flared. The pact was sealed. Rhys’s blade plunged into my shoulder without hesitation. Excruciating pain flared, but I bit back a scream, gritting my teeth. Blood streamed down the blade, dripping onto the altar. At the same moment, the cub in Lyra’s arms let out a shrill wail. An identical wound appeared on his tiny shoulder! Blood stained his swaddling clothes, and his little face instantly went pale. “What’s happening? Why is the Royal Heir injured?” Rhys stared, horrified, at his bleeding son. The blade in his hand trembled, unable to plunge deeper. “A symbiotic pact! It’s a symbiotic pact!” Archon Gabriel rushed in, face ashen. “My King, you cannot kill her! If she dies, the Royal Heir dies too!” Rhys’s hand trembled violently. He frantically poured his power into me, desperate to stop our bleeding. Warm healing energy flooded my body. The sacrifice was halted, and Lyra’s scream ripped through the entire altar. “No! My rebirth! My perfect body!” Her soul-form trembled violently, on the verge of dissipation. “It’s all your fault! You cursed wretch!” “I’ll kill you! I’ll tear you apart!” I collapsed into the blood, holding my child close. His wound was already healing, his breathing steadying again. At least we were alive. And I still had a chance to protect him.
I was imprisoned in the deepest chambers of the royal palace. My body was weak, clinging to life only through the power Rhys forcibly infused into me daily. They stripped me of the right to see my son. “You are the source of the curse, the carrier of this plague.” Rhys stood at the door, his eyes as cold as ancient ice. “Do not approach the Royal Heir, and never defile his pure bloodline again.” The heavy iron doors clanged shut before me, sealing me within this gloomy cage. Lyra, under the guise of ‘purifying the Royal Heir,’ monopolized the nursery day and night. She deliberately had a magic scrying mirror transmit everything for me to see. To make me watch her seize everything that was mine. In the mirror, she wore my clothes, sat at my vanity. Using my lipstick, styling her hair like mine, even mimicking my tone of voice. “See this, my dear ‘sister’?” She smirked at the scrying mirror, her eyes venomous and triumphant. “Your husband, your clothes, everything you have, will be mine.” “And you? You’re just a trapped mouse in a cage.” She walked to the cradle and clumsily picked up Jasper. Jasper, sensing a foreign touch, immediately started wailing. “My Jasper, say ‘Mommy’.” Lyra forced his gaze onto her face. “I am your true mother. Forget that woman.” The cub cried harder, his little face flushed crimson. He struggled desperately, trying to escape Lyra’s embrace. “He doesn’t like me. It’s all that woman’s fault.” Lyra’s face darkened, becoming truly frightening. “Her tainted bloodline has corrupted my child.” She glared venomously at my image in the scrying mirror. “Burn everything she prepared for this bastard child!” She ordered the handmaidens to dispose of all the clothes I had prepared for my child. Those tiny clothes I’d hand-stitched, the swaddling embroidered with gold thread. “Burn them all, every last one! They reek of her lowly presence!” Flames soared, turning my heart’s effort into ashes. Rhys entered the nursery, his face grim. Seeing the cub’s persistent cries of discomfort. Instead of soothing him, he turned his anger on me. He warned coldly through the scrying mirror: “Your bloodline is rebelling. It’s causing chaos.” “It seems a more thorough purification is needed!” “If he continues to wail, I’ll sever your connection completely.” Late that night, I bore the agony, sensing my son’s faint cries of hunger and fear through our bond. That heartbreaking pain, ripping through me, was transmitted via our pact. I could only weep silently in the darkness. Lyra deliberately brought the cub to my door. Letting the child cry out for me, but refusing to let me near. “Did you hear that?” She chuckled triumphantly, her eyes brimming with malice. “He’s begging *me*, his ‘mother,’ not you, the ‘sinner’.” “You filthy vessel, you’ll never be worthy of being his mother.” The cub’s tiny hand reached through the bars towards me, his golden eyes filled with longing and sorrow. “Mommy… Mommy…” His voice was hoarse from crying, as weak as a kitten’s whimper. I reached out to touch him, but an invisible barrier blocked me. Rhys issued a final command, setting up a powerful barrier outside my chambers, completely severing all connection between me and the cub. “From this moment on, you will have no ties.” His voice was cold and merciless. “He is the Royal Heir of the Lion Clan, and you are nothing but a criminal.” I was confined in darkness, unable to hear or feel my child. All I could do was silently pray that my Jasper would survive each day. Pray that he would remember, somewhere in this world, there was someone who truly loved him.
By the third day, the cub’s cries grew weaker and weaker. Lyra’s inept care was rapidly draining his life. High fever, refusing to eat, his life hanging by a thread. She knew nothing of infant care, only roughly shaking him, trying to make him stop crying. Archon Gabriel burst into the nursery, his face etched with horror. “My King, the Royal Heir is failing!” “His temperature is too high, his breathing shallow. He could die at any moment!” Rhys’s face turned ashen, rage burning in his eyes. “How can this be? Wasn’t Lyra taking care of him?” “The Royal Heir needs his mother’s essence. Only his true mother’s essence can save him.” Archon Gabriel pointed, trembling, towards my prison. “The Queen must come here. Otherwise, the Royal Heir won’t survive the night.” “She’s the source of the curse! Letting her near will only worsen things!” Rhys’s fists clenched, veins bulging. “There must be another way!” “My King, bloodlines do not lie.” Archon Gabriel’s voice was stern and urgent. “The Royal Heir’s body is instinctively rejecting everything but his true mother.” “He cannot wait. Any more delay and it will be too late.” Rhys gritted his teeth, finally giving in. He had no choice but to bring me from my chambers to the nursery. My clothes were disheveled, and I was dragged along like a prisoner, heavy shackles clanking on my wrists. Lyra stood nearby, her eyes burning with hatred. “Hurry up. Don’t waste time.” Her voice dripped with disgust and impatience. “Once he’s recovered, you can crawl back into your cage.” The moment the cub was back in my arms, I nearly broke down in tears. His little face was pale, his breathing ragged. But sensing my presence, he instantly calmed, greedily suckling. His tiny hands clutched my clothes tightly, as if afraid I’d disappear again. “My precious, Mommy’s here.” I gently stroked his little face, tears streaming down my own. “Mommy will always love you, and I will never abandon you.” It was my only comfort in days. Feeling his strong suckling, hearing his satisfied murmurs, my heart finally found a moment of peace. The cub’s temperature slowly returned to normal. His little face regained its color, his breathing steadied. He slept contentedly in my arms, his tiny mouth still softly moving. Just then, Rhys abruptly snatched him from my embrace, handing him back to Lyra, who had been waiting impatiently. “Enough. Your purpose is served.” His voice was icy and devoid of gratitude. “Your use is at an end.” Lyra took the child, flashing me a cold, triumphant smirk. “Thank you for the ‘nourishment,’ my good milch cow.” She deliberately emphasized the words ‘milch cow’. She turned to Rhys, malicious glints in her eyes. “My King, since her purpose has been fulfilled…” “It’s time for the ‘Severance Ritual’.” “To completely eradicate this curse and restore the Royal Heir’s pure bloodline.” Rhys looked at me, his gaze utterly devoid of warmth. As if I were a tool, used up and ready to be discarded. “Tomorrow, at the Hundred Clans Homage Ceremony.” “I will, before all assembled…” “Drain every last drop of your tainted blood from my son’s life.” “Drain it all, until nothing remains!” “Let everyone witness the consequence of defying the royal will!” I was roughly dragged back to my chambers, my shackles scraping a harsh sound across the floor. I stared at my fingers, where my child had suckled. Feeling the ancient power stirring within me, awakened by the Sacred Fruit. A plan, for mutual destruction, began to form in my mind. If you want my blood, then I’ll give you a ‘gift’ you’ll never forget. Let you pay the price for your greed and cruelty. The Hundred Clans Homage Ceremony began as scheduled. The entire royal palace was adorned with colorful banners and flowing flags. I was chained like a sacrificial offering, dragged to the foot of the hundred-step staircase leading to the throne. All the tribal chiefs were present, observing the ritual. The Tiger Clan, the Eagle Clan, the Wolf Clan… hundreds of nobles gathered. Their gazes held curiosity, indifference, and cruel excitement. Rhys, in his golden royal robes, stood majestically on the throne. Crown on his head, scepter in hand, he seemed sacred and inviolable. “Fellow kin!”
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