The Do-Over System:My Beloved is the Villain! - Chapter 44

Chapter 44: Lady Selinthra’s Scheme

Lady Selinthra paced the cold, stone floor of her chamber, the shadows of flickering torches casting eerie patterns on the walls. Her silver hair shimmered in the dim light, and her icy blue eyes burned with unspoken determination. Behind her stood her most trusted lieutenant, Ravok, a hulking figure with sharp, angular features and a voice as smooth as silk.

“Lady Selinthra,” Ravok said, folding his arms as he leaned against the doorframe. “Are you certain this is wise? Skye Drakonis isn’t known for his hospitality.”

Selinthra stopped pacing, turning sharply to face him. “Of course, it’s not wise, Ravok,” she snapped. “But necessity often makes fools of us all. If Lucian is to fall, I must align with those who share the same ambition.”

Ravok raised an eyebrow, his dark eyes glinting with amusement. “Ambition? That’s putting it kindly. Skye Drakonis is a serpent, my lady. If we step into his lair, we may not step out again.”

Selinthra’s lips curled into a cold smile. “Then it’s a good thing serpents respect power, isn’t it? Besides,” she added, her tone softening just a fraction, “Skye hates Lucian almost as much as I do. He’s already making his move against him; I intend to ensure it aligns with my plans.”

Ravok sighed, pushing off the doorframe and stepping forward. His towering form cast a long shadow across the room. “And what exactly do you hope to gain from this alliance? Skye Drakonis doesn’t strike me as the sharing type.”

Selinthra smirked, her confidence unshaken. “Control. Influence. Skye may be cunning, but he lacks the finesse to rule effectively. He’s a weapon, Ravok—a tool. And like any tool, he can be wielded if you know how.”

Ravok chuckled darkly. “You always did enjoy playing with fire, my lady.”

“Then it’s a good thing I don’t burn easily,” Selinthra retorted, her tone sharp as a blade.

Within the hour, the two were mounted on sleek, black horses, their breaths visible in the chilly night air as they began their journey to Skye Drakonis’s lair. The cave was carved into the jagged cliffs of the Obsidian Crag, its entrance veiled by an unnatural mist that seemed to pulse with malevolence.

As they approached, Ravok tightened his grip on the reins, his wariness evident. “This place reeks of death,” he muttered under his breath.

Selinthra ignored his comment, her eyes fixed on the dark maw of the cave. “Stay close,” she ordered. “And let me do the talking.”

They dismounted, their boots crunching on the gravel as they made their way inside. The air grew colder with each step, the oppressive darkness pressing against them like a living thing.

“Welcome to my humble abode,” came a voice from the shadows, smooth and dripping with mockery.

Selinthra stopped abruptly, her hand resting lightly on the hilt of her sword. “Skye Drakonis,” she said, her tone carefully measured. “I hope we’re not intruding.”

The figure of Skye Drakonis emerged from the darkness, his golden eyes gleaming like twin suns in the gloom. He was clad in dark, intricately embroidered robes that seemed to ripple like liquid shadow.

“Lady Selinthra,” Skye said, a sly smile spreading across his face. “To what do I owe the pleasure of this unexpected visit?”

Selinthra stepped forward, her expression calm and composed. “I come with a proposition, one that I believe will benefit us both.”

Skye tilted his head, his interest piqued. “I’m listening.”

As the two began their negotiations, Ravok stood silently by, his hand never straying far from his weapon. He didn’t trust Skye—nor did he trust whatever schemes Selinthra had in mind. But for now, he would wait and watch, ready to act if the need arose.

For in the lair of Skye Drakonis, betrayal was as natural as breathing.

..

As Lady Selinthra and Ravok reached the entrance to Skye Drakonis’s lair, the oppressive mist thickened, swirling around their feet like ghostly tendrils. The jagged obsidian cliffs loomed high above them, casting long shadows across the rocky terrain. Positioned on either side of the cavernous gate were two towering figures, their forms a twisted blend of human and dragon.

The demi-dragon guards were imposing, their scaled arms crossed over broad chests. Their slit-pupil eyes glowed faintly, and their dark wings, folded neatly behind them, glimmered with a faint metallic sheen in the dim light.

“Identify yourselves,” one of the guards growled, his deep voice rumbling like distant thunder. Smoke curled from his nostrils as he eyed the visitors suspiciously.

Selinthra stepped forward, her icy demeanor unwavering. “I am Lady Selinthra of the Crimson Coven. Skye Drakonis is expecting me.”

The guard narrowed his eyes but stepped aside after a moment, gesturing toward the cavern with a clawed hand. “Proceed. But know this: any sign of treachery, and you won’t leave this place alive.”

Ravok smirked faintly, leaning toward Selinthra as they passed through the gate. “Charming hosts,” he murmured dryly.

The interior of the cave was a labyrinth of jagged rocks and glowing veins of crimson crystal that pulsed faintly, casting eerie light onto the walls. The air was thick with the acrid scent of sulfur and something more metallic—blood, perhaps.

As they ventured deeper, the sound of footsteps echoed ahead. From the shadows, Skye Drakonis emerged, his golden eyes gleaming with cunning. Behind him stood two more demi-dragon figures, their fierce appearances softened only slightly by the presence of Skye himself.

“Ah, Selinthra,” Skye greeted, his voice a silky purr as he spread his arms in mock welcome. “I see you’ve made it past my little gatekeepers. How delightful.”

Selinthra inclined her head, her sharp gaze flickering to the demi-dragon figures at Skye’s side. “And who are these… stalwart protectors of yours?”

Skye smirked, gesturing lazily toward the guards. “These are my blood brothers, Valon and Kryseis,” he said, his tone laced with pride. “Born of the same ancestral flames that shaped me. They’re my most loyal allies—and my fiercest enforcers.”

Valon, the taller of the two, regarded Selinthra with a piercing gaze. His dark scales shimmered like polished obsidian, and the twin horns curving from his head gave him an almost regal appearance. Kryseis, smaller but no less intimidating, had scales of deep crimson and eyes that burned with an unsettling intensity.

“Blood brothers, you say?” Selinthra remarked, her voice cool as she studied them. “A fitting alliance for someone like you, Skye.”

“Indeed,” Skye replied smoothly. “Loyalty is a rare commodity these days. I take mine where I can find it.”

Ravok, standing slightly behind Selinthra, folded his arms and watched the exchange with a wary expression. The tension in the air was palpable, and he couldn’t shake the feeling that every word spoken was part of a carefully orchestrated game.

“Shall we move to more private quarters to discuss what brings you here?” Skye suggested, his gaze flickering between Selinthra and Ravok. “I trust you’ll find my hospitality… sufficient.”

Selinthra offered a faint smile, her expression betraying nothing. “Lead the way,” she said simply.

As Skye turned and began to guide them deeper into the lair, his blood brothers followed closely, their presence a silent reminder of the power that backed him. Ravok glanced at Selinthra, his unease evident, but she ignored him, her focus solely on the man—or monster—leading them.

As Skye led them deeper into the lair, the pulsing crimson light grew stronger, casting ominous shadows across the jagged walls. The air grew thick with the scent of sulfur and ancient power, an oppressive energy that seemed to cling to their very skin. Selinthra’s sharp heels echoed against the stone floor, her regal posture unwavering despite the intimidating surroundings. Beside her, Ravok’s gaze flitted nervously to the blood brothers flanking them—massive, hulking demi-dragons whose reptilian eyes gleamed with latent hostility.

“You’ve certainly outdone yourself with this… establishment,” Selinthra remarked, her tone cool and detached as her eyes swept over the carved murals of dragons and conquest adorning the cavern walls. Skye turned slightly, his smirk widening at her thinly veiled disdain.

“I like to keep my allies impressed,” he replied smoothly, gesturing for them to follow as he led the way deeper into the heart of the lair. “And my enemies terrified.”

The group approached a grand chamber illuminated by the pulsing glow of molten lava streams flowing through the floor’s intricate channels. The walls were lined with banners bearing Skye’s sigil—a coiled dragon breathing fire over a broken crown—and ancient relics that seemed to hum with latent power. At the center stood an obsidian table, its surface etched with maps, sigils, and plans of conquest.

The blood brothers peeled off to stand guard at the entrance, their imposing forms casting long shadows that danced in the fiery glow. Skye turned back to Selinthra, his smile now razor-sharp. “Welcome to my sanctum. I trust you’ll find it inspiring… or at least formidable.”

Selinthra crossed her arms, her expression unimpressed. “Spare me the theatrics, Skye. We’re here for one reason: to ensure our mutual goals are aligned.”

Skye chuckled, stepping closer to the table and tracing a clawed finger along one of the maps. “Mutual goals, of course. Though I suspect you wouldn’t be here if you didn’t think I was necessary to your plans.”

Selinthra’s eyes narrowed, her voice steady as steel. “Necessary? Perhaps. Trustworthy? That remains to be seen.”

Skye broke the silence, his grin sharp and mocking. “Oh, Selinthra, you wound me. Let’s put your doubts to rest and discuss how we’ll bring the so-called Dark Lord and his precious fiancée to their knees.”