Claimed by the vampire prince

Chapter 515: Chapter 515

Then the throne room doors were thrown open. The sound thundered across the chamber violently enough to silence the entire court.

Every noble turned at once.

Ragnar stood in the entrance with Circe beside him.

Both were covered in blood.

The coronation came to a complete halt at their sudden appearance.

Nheera’s face darkened the instant her eyes landed on Ragnar.

Hatred burned there so intensely it nearly transformed her expression into something monstrous.

He was the living proof of her husband’s betrayal. The bastard child she had failed to eliminate years ago. He had proven to be no more than a sharp thorn in her flesh.

Today, she swore silently, she would not make the mistake of allowing him to survive again.

"What is the meaning of this?" Nheera demanded sharply. Her voice cut through the stunned silence. Yet even as she spoke, her hand shifted subtly beside her gown as she signaled the guards stationed around the room.

The royal guards jumped into action.

Swords were drawn as guards surged toward Ragnar and Circe from every direction.

But Ragnar moved first.

Pure fury flashed across his face before his shadows exploded outward.

A massive wave of writhing darkness erupted from beneath his feet and tore across the throne room violently. The guards barely had time to react before the shadows collided with them head-on.

Several were thrown backward upon impact, their bodies smashing into pillars hard enough to crack bone. Others screamed as black tendrils wrapped around their throats and limbs, crushing armor beneath unnatural pressure.

One guard attempted to raise his weapon to attack but the darkness ripped him off the ground entirely.

Another lunged toward Circe only for shadows to spear straight through his chest before hurling his corpse across the floor.

Panic erupted instantly inside the throne room.

Nobles scrambled backward in terror at the sight unfolding before them.

The look of hatred and annoyance Hairan wore right then was identical to the one on Nheera’s face.

And through the chaos, Ragnar stepped forward slowly, his eyes never leaving Queen Nheera.

The shadows around him twisted violently like creatures eager to feed.

"You should have killed me when you had the chance," Ragnar said to her.

"Your Highness... what are you doing?" one of the older nobles demanded in disbelief. His voice trembled as he stared at the destruction scattered across the throne room floor. "Have you gone mad?"

Ragnar stood motionless near the center of the hall while the last royal guard collapsed behind him, black shadows loosening from the man’s crushed throat.

"No," Ragnar answered coldly. His voice carried through the throne room with enough force to silence the panicked murmurs still spreading among the nobles.

"It is your queen that has gone mad."

He lifted one arm and pointed directly toward Nheera.

She stood rigidly on the dais, though the fury burning in her eyes was impossible to hide now. Years of hatred bubbled up to the surface.

"This woman," Ragnar continued, "has brought chaos upon this kingdom. Entire villages in the east were massacred while the crown conveniently failed to stop it. Citizens disappeared and we’re killed. Farmland and homes were burned down. All because of her."

The room had gone deathly quiet. Even the nobles who didn’t usually agree with Ragnar were listening now.

"She and my father’s chief advisor worked together with the rebel militias operating across the kingdom. They funded them. Armed them. Directed their movements. Every act of violence was carefully done to spread fear throughout the kingdom and strengthen their hold."

Shock rippled visibly through the court.

Several nobles exchanged alarmed looks while others stared openly at Nheera in disbelief.

"How dare you?" Nheera spat, fury radiating from her despite the tension beginning to crack through her exterior.

"You storm into my palace drenched in blood, interrupt my son’s coronation, murder royal guards before the entire court, and still possess the audacity to stand there and accuse me of treason?" Her lip curled in disgust. "I should have your tongue removed for speaking such filth."

Though her voice remained sharp, tiny fractures had begun forming beneath the surface.

Ragnar saw them clearly now. For the first time, Nheera no longer looked entirely certain of her control. freeweɓnovel.cøm

Laheir stepped forward furiously.

"Do you have any evidence whatsoever to support these outrageous claims?" he demanded. "Or have you simply decided to invent lies now to cause a scene?"

"Of course I have evidence," Ragnar replied immediately. He took another step forward. "And it does not implicate only Queen Nheera."

His gaze shifted toward Hairan.

The prince stood stiffly, his face dark with barely restrained anger. Unlike his mother, however, there was no fear visible in him yet. Only hatred.

Ragnar pointed toward him next.

"Her sons are involved as well. Azul was involved with the militias long before his death." His voice deepened. "And Hairan continued their operations afterward."

"No..." one noble whispered.

"That’s impossible."

Hairan finally spoke, unable to remain silent any longer. "You lying bastard," he hissed.

"Our queen willingly sacrificed her own people for power," Ragnar continued over the growing chaos. "And her son is no different. He is cruel, corrupt, and utterly unfit to rule this kingdom." freewebnoveℓ.com

"You insolent—"

Hairan started forward, but Nheera lifted one hand sharply to stop him.

For a brief moment, mother and son exchanged a tense glance.

And while the throne room descended deeper into unrest, Circe suddenly stopped hearing any of it.

The noise around her began fading strangely. All of it slowly dulled beneath another sound entirely.

Whispers.

Frantic voices that pressed against her mind from somewhere far beyond the living world.

Circe’s expression shifted almost instantly and her gaze unfocused. A soul was calling out to her.

Not the countless souls recently torn from the bodies of the royal guards.

This presence felt different. Stronger. Angrier.

A cold sensation slid down her spine as the whispers grew louder inside her head.

"They killed me." The voice sounded distorted and distant, yet the fury in it was clear as day. "She killed me."