The Hero Returns with his Yandere Wife-Chapter 47 - 46

The dockyard air hung thick with tension.

Lashbite, the whip-wielding supervillain henchwoman, leaned toward Skullrend, her wild red hair brushing his arm.

"Boss, what’s the play? She’s losin’ it—do we move?" Her voice was sharp, impatient, her fingers twitching around her coiled weapon. But Skullrend’s red eye glinted, too absorbed in the unfolding drama to care. He waved her off with a cybernetic hand, his gravelly rasp cutting through. "Shut it. Don’t bug me—I wanna see how this plays out."

His lips curled into a twisted smirk, savoring the suspense like a predator watching prey squirm. Lashbite scowled, doubtful, but retreated to her position, whip snapping faintly in the air.

Ryn stepped closer to Frostveil, his amber eyes softening despite the chaos around them. He asked again, "Why?" voice low and steady. "What happened? Why are you sorry?"

He rested a hand on her trembling shoulder, a gesture of comfort amid the standoff. She surged forward, wrapping her arms around his waist, her wails rising into the night, raw and piercing.

Mira flinched at the sudden move, her black eyes narrowing. Shadows surged from the ground, engulfing Frostveil up to her neck in an instant, tendrils poised like a noose.

She probed for any hint of treachery—a flicker of power, a hidden blade, the telltale shift of a liar. But there was nothing. The woman was clean. No tricks, no deceit. Just raw, open grief.

Mira held the shadows steady, unconvinced, wary. Her gaze flicked to Ryn.

Frostveil clung to him, oblivious to the dark coils slithering around her. "I’m sorry," she choked out, again and again, the words tumbling from her lips like they could somehow undo everything. "Sorry for breaking my promise." Tears streaked her frost-blue cheeks, her voice cracking beneath the weight of guilt.

Ryn’s brow furrowed, his grip firm on her shoulder. "What promise?" His tone was gentle but pressing, trying to piece together her unraveling words.

She looked up at him then, her icy eyes shimmering, lost. "I swore... to be a hero. With you. Together." Her voice shook. "But I broke it. I betrayed everything. I’m a villain now." She shuddered, curling in on herself. "I’m disgusting."

Ryn froze.

The confession hung between them, heavy with the weight of past and present colliding. He hadn’t expected this—hadn’t even considered it. She was his friend, once. What was she now?

The question wedged in his throat, but he straightened, forcing himself to push past the haze. The only way forward was the truth. He just had to ask.

"So... whose side are you on?"

Frostveil hesitated.

Her gaze darted to Elena, standing rigid nearby, then back to Ryn. Doubt, guilt, fear—all warring in her expression.

Elena caught the look and scoffed, arms crossing over her chest. "Your call, Fireboy. She’s your mess."

Ryn’s jaw clenched. "What?" His voice sharpened, cutting through the moment. "Answer me. Who’s side are you on?"

She swallowed hard, her breathing shaky—but steadier now.

"I don’t want to be a villain anymore." The words fell like a plea. "I swear—I never killed a hero. Not once. Ask the prisoners. They’ll tell you."

The conviction in her voice was real.

Mira loosened her grip.

She stared at Ryn, expectant, her expression raw and vulnerable, begging for a chance.

Ryn’s jaw tightened. Trust was a gamble—he’d been backstabbed twice in the last twelve hours alone. Could he risk it again? Her puppy-dog eyes tugged at him, but skepticism gnawed deeper.

"So... go home," he said, voice flat, testing her reaction.

Frostveil’s face fell, her icy hands clutching his shirt tighter.

"Home?" she whispered, as if the word didn’t fit. She didn’t move, her gaze pleading for something more—redemption, purpose, anything but dismissal. Ryn frowned, confused.

’Go home’ wasn’t the answer she wanted, and he wasn’t sure what she expected instead. He shifted, trying a different angle. "What rank are you?"

"S-class," she replied, her voice quiet but firm, her chin lifting slightly.

Ryn blinked. Higher than him—an S-class begging for his trust?

He glanced at Mira, whose shadows still hovered around Frostveil, then back to the woman kneeling before him.

An idea sparked, risky but bold. "Alright," he said, pointing toward Skullrend and his henchmen. "I’ll believe you if you can take out at least one of their heads."

Frostveil’s eyes widened—not with surprise, but with a fierce, sudden dedication. "I can get you two"

___

In the background, tension crackled like a live wire.

"Hey, bro—what’s goin’ on now? Skullrend looks pissed," a spear-wielding C-class muttered, nudging the scrawny grunt with oversized ears.

The superhearing villain’s grin stretched wide, relishing his self-appointed role as the group’s narrator. "Frostveil’s tryna prove she’s loyal. Told Fireboy she’ll take out two of Skullrend’s guys. Swearin’ she’s done bein’ a villain—wants to switch sides."

A collective gasp rippled through the grunts.

"Whoa!" 𝒇𝓻𝓮𝓮𝙬𝙚𝒃𝒏𝓸𝙫𝒆𝙡.𝓬𝓸𝒎

"Plot twist!" one muttered, his grip tightening on his rusted blade.

"Wait, what do we do now?" another asked, eyes darting between the confrontation and his own shaky weapon. "They lookin’ strong over there—can we still take ’em?"

The superhearing grunt’s ears twitched as he tuned in, piecing together the battlefield dynamics. His grin didn’t waver. "Yeah, we still got ’em. Four-to-one. Easy."

His smirk faded slightly as his ears caught something else—tones shifting, voices sharpening. He straightened.

"But the drama’s over," he murmured, amusement replaced by cold certainty. "Shit’s about to get real."

The grunts stiffened, their weapons clanking as they braced themselves.

No more talking. No more play-by-play.

Just the fight.

__

Frostveil rose to her feet, wiping her tears with a frost-tipped hand. She met Ryn’s gaze, her voice ringing clear despite the tremor in it. "Yes, I will get you two of them." Her icy aura flared faintly, a promise of power backing her words.

Skullrend’s metal jaw clicked shut, his human eye narrowing to a slit. "What the hell did she just say?" he growled, his voice low and dangerous, cutting through the dock’s salty air.

Gutshard and Lashbite exchanged wary glances, their grips tightening on their weapons. The battlefield held its breath, teetering on the edge of chaos, every eye locked on Frostveil’s next move.

Ryn’s amber eyes flared with a mix of shock and exhilaration at Frostveil’s bold claim. Two of them? An S-class flipping sides mid-fight? He couldn’t suppress the grin tugging at his lips. "Then let’s see what you have got!"