The Healer Bride: Awakening the Ruined Dragon King

Chapter 9

Word Count: 554 | Released on: Today at 14:20

urned suffocatingly thick, c

sharp jolt through my skin. His breathing was rapid, shallow, and ragged, his che

Widow's Tear*, had ignited a violent immune counterattack against the lingering infection. But in a body with a shattered Dragon

ntroducing foreign compounds now would react with the res

ling was my

rest in the adjoining ante-room, I remain

al, desperate battle aga

r, without pausing for a single second, I plunged cloths into the icy water, wrung them out with raw, aching hands,

as so intense that the cold towels

nd blistered from the freezing water. In the suffocating gloom of this hostile fortress, an overwhelming wave of isolation threa

he heavy basin over to the side table

onds, my back was

the room, a faint, almost impercep

rustle of coar

d easily have been mistaken f

austed hands trembling under the weight,

orward-and froze

my throat. My heart

slipped from my

with a deafening, ringing roar, sending waves of icy wate

nk. I couldn

in the flickering candlelight, Bo

molten gold-the pure, untamed gaze of an ancient predator. Cold, sharp, and razor-fo

aming. He was

as a

tching every singl

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The Healer Bride: Awakening the Ruined Dragon King

Zana Kheiron Fantasy

“I was the eldest daughter of the Reynolds family, but in a world that worshipped dragon power, I was born completely "Dragonless." After ten years of being engaged to Prince Krishna, the King suddenly decreed that my fiancé would marry my half-sister Deena instead. As for me, my father ruthlessly discarded me. I was ordered to marry Lord Boyce Carlisle, a crippled, dying warlord with a shattered Dragon Core and failing organs. I was being sent to a desolate border fortress just to be a dying man's nursemaid, and then his widow. Deena flaunted her triumphant smile, whispering maliciously in my ear. "This is the fate a 'Dragonless' deserves. You're being sent there to be buried with him." My father didn't even look at me, treating my death sentence as a highly profitable political trade. The suffocating despair and humiliation drove me to tie a silk sash to the ceiling beam and kick the chair away. Why should I be thrown away like trash? Why did my mother and I have to die in obscurity while they celebrated their royal wedding? But as the noose tightened, a violent torrent of memories flooded my mind. I remembered my past life as a top surgeon on Earth who spent thirty years snatching lives back from the jaws of death. I didn't die. I cut myself down, wiped away my tears, and looked at my hands. I would heal this dying warlord, and use him to drag every single one of them to hell.”