When Deep Love Becomes a Funeral Song
289 Views · Ongoing · leon
I caught my fiancé cheating with his ex in our bedroom—twins on the nightstand proved it had been going on for a year.
The alchemy vial slipped from my trembling fingers, shattering against the stone floor. There they were: Kaelen, the youngest Archmage on the continent, tangled in silk sheets with Lyra Elessar, the high-elf noble he'd supposedly rejected for me.
But it was the glowing parchment on the nightstand that destroyed me completely—a bloodline registry declaring him father to one-year-old twins.
I'd sacrificed my magic core to save his life three years ago, becoming powerless while he used that second chance to build a secret family. Every "council meeting," every "emergency" had been a lie to visit them.
When Lyra saw me, she didn't even flinch. She just smiled and said, "Looks like we're caught."
The humiliation burned hotter than heartbreak. I fled to the black market that very night, seeking the Death Merchant's ultimate service—complete disappearance.
"Seven days to prepare the ritual," he told me.
Seven days until I could vanish forever. Seven days to decide what the naive girl who'd loved him deserved as her final gift to herself.
The alchemy vial slipped from my trembling fingers, shattering against the stone floor. There they were: Kaelen, the youngest Archmage on the continent, tangled in silk sheets with Lyra Elessar, the high-elf noble he'd supposedly rejected for me.
But it was the glowing parchment on the nightstand that destroyed me completely—a bloodline registry declaring him father to one-year-old twins.
I'd sacrificed my magic core to save his life three years ago, becoming powerless while he used that second chance to build a secret family. Every "council meeting," every "emergency" had been a lie to visit them.
When Lyra saw me, she didn't even flinch. She just smiled and said, "Looks like we're caught."
The humiliation burned hotter than heartbreak. I fled to the black market that very night, seeking the Death Merchant's ultimate service—complete disappearance.
"Seven days to prepare the ritual," he told me.
Seven days until I could vanish forever. Seven days to decide what the naive girl who'd loved him deserved as her final gift to herself.














































