"Let''s stop this," he murmured.

    He met her gaze, his gold demonic eyes locking onto hers with an intensity that sent an unfamiliar chill through her body.

    And then, he said something that shook her to her very core.

    "For our daughter."

    Khillea froze in place, her entire body rigid as Nathan''s words sank in.

    For our daughter?

    Had she misheard him? No... he had said it clearly, without hesitation. The weight of those words pressed down on her, making her heart pound in her chest.

    Her breath hitched. It couldn''t be.

    "N...Nathan?" she finally managed to whisper, her voice trembling with a mix of disbelief and raw emotion.

    She had thought him. Lost. Erased from the world. She thought he would never come back anymore to her.

    The man standing before her looked different. Completely different. His presence was overwhelming, his strength undeniable. His very existence now exuded a power that seemed to defy all reason. Yet... as she stared into his face, listened closely to the cadence of his voice, something stirred deep within her. It was him. It had to be.

    Nathan''s lips curled into a small, knowing smile, as if he understood exactly what was going through her mind.

    "It''s really you?" she asked again, her fingers trembling at her sides.

    His expression softened, but his voice carried a weight of regret.

    "I am," he said solemnly. "I regret that I wasn''t there... when our daughter was born. When Patroclus died."

    The name Patroclus sent a violent shudder through Khillea. Her fists clenched, her entire body stiffening as a surge of grief and fury clawed its way to the surface.

    Yes. That''s right. Patroclus.

    Her rage had a purpose. Her grief had a name.

    No matter who stood before her—no matter if it was Nathan himself—she would not abandon her revenge.

    "I don''t care," she said, forcing down the overwhelming storm of emotions threatening to break through her composure. Her voice was cold, controlled—her sword arm steady, despite the chaos within. "Let me pass."

    Nathan''s gaze hardened instantly.

    "No," he said firmly. "I won''t let you throw your life away in some senseless, suicidal revenge."

    Khillea''s head snapped up, her eyes flashing dangerously.

    "Senseless?" Her voice cracked with fury. "You have no idea what I felt for Patroclus! He was the only family I had in this cursed world!"

    Her body trembled—not in weakness, but in the overwhelming power coursing through her veins. Magic surged outward, crackling in the air.

    Flames erupted.

    Her sword ignited once more, its searing light bathing the battlefield in an ominous glow. The fire coiled around her body, wrapping her in a blinding aura of vengeance.

    Nathan, however, didn''t flinch. He remained still, his silver-white hair barely shifting in the wind as he met her fury with a gaze of unshaken resolve.

    "I know," he said quietly.

    His voice was steady, yet heavy with meaning.

    "I didn''t speak to him much, but I knew one thing for certain." Nathan''s eyes softened, but only slightly. "He cared about you. More than anything."

    Khillea''s grip tightened around her sword.

    Nathan continued. "And he would never—never—have wanted you to die like this."

    She felt her breath catch, just for a moment.

    But the anger was still there.

    "In vain?" she spat back. "You think this is in vain? You don''t understand anything, Nathan. We are going to win this war."

    Nathan shook his head, his expression darkening.

    "This isn''t about the war anymore, Khillea," he said, voice now ice-cold. "You and I both know that."

    She opened her mouth to protest, but his next words struck like a blade to the heart.

    "I''ve slept with you twice," Nathan continued, his voice measured yet unyielding, "and I''ve spoken with you enough to understand who you really are. You''re not doing this for strategy, for victory, or for the Greeks. You''re doing this because you think you have nothing left."

    Khillea''s breath hitched.

    "After you kill Paris, after you cut down whoever remains in your path—you won''t stop. You''ll keep fighting. Keep slaughtering. And then one day... you''ll die. Not as a warrior. Not as a hero. But as a broken puppet in the middle of Trojan soil, discarded without a second thought."

    His eyes, colder than she had ever seen them, pierced straight through her.

    "And I refuse to let that happen."

    A heavy silence fell between them.

    Khillea stood frozen, her mind at war with itself. Her flames flickered, their rage momentarily shaken.

    Nathan wasn''t pleading. He wasn''t begging. He wasn''t even trying to convince her with words of comfort.

    He was declaring.

    Khillea''s grip on her sword tightened as she glared at Nathan, her breath ragged with emotion. Was he really going to stand in her way?

    A gasp escaped her lips as she stumbled straight into his arms.

    And then, before she could even begin to struggle—

    Nathan wrapped his arms around her.

    A firm, unrelenting embrace.

    Khillea''s breath caught in her throat.

    Her flames flickered. Her entire body tensed.

    But she didn''t push him away. Experience more on My Virtual Library Empire

    For the first time since this battle had begun—she didn''t know what to do.

    "You don''t have to fight anymore," Nathan whispered, his arms tightening around Khillea in a gentle embrace.

    His voice was calm—steady—like an unshakable force amidst the storm raging within her.

    Khillea trembled, feeling the warmth of his presence. His strength. His unwavering certainty.

    For so long, she had fought alone. Pushing away everyone, believing that no one could ever truly stand by her.

    But now...

    Nathan was here.

    "You don''t have to feel lonely either," he murmured against her ear. "I''ll be there with you. Let''s raise our daughter together. Like a family."

    Khillea''s breath hitched.

    A family.

    A real family.

    Tears welled in her eyes as her hands hesitantly rose.

    And then, for the first time in what felt like forever—she let herself believe.

    Her fingers clutched onto Nathan''s back as she hugged him in return, her hold light at first, but then—tighter.

    She wasn''t alone. Not anymore.

    Nathan chuckled softly.

    "Do you want Patroclus to see us fighting? He''s already seen us naked and fucking—this would be the last straw for him."

    Khillea blinked.

    Then, unexpectedly, a laugh escaped her lips.

    It was soft—shaky—but real.

    She smiled against his shoulder, hugging him even closer.

    Nathan let her.

    Finally, she accepted him.

    Finally, she chose to live.

    And that choice alone—that one thought—was enough to shatter the fate she had once believed was unchangeable.

    But just as the warmth of their embrace settled—

    A sharp, searing pain tore through Nathan''s back.

    His body jerked. A cold sensation spread through his spine.

    Khillea''s eyes widened.

    Something was wrong.

    She felt it—the tension in his muscles, the sharp hitch in his breath.

    Her hands trembled as she reached behind him.

    And then—warmth.

    Blood.

    Her fingers came away soaked in crimson.

    Her heart stopped.

    She looked up.

    And then—

    She saw him.

    Paris stood before them, his sword dripping with Nathan''s blood.

    A twisted, deranged smirk stretched across his face.

    He had stabbed Nathan''s back from behind taking both of them off guard.