The Tyrant's Happy Ending - Chapter 16.2

“Yernen!” Lyle scooped her up, noting the unnatural heat radiating from her body.

“Yernen…?” A chill seized him as he touched her clammy brow. Her lips, pale and dry, parted as she whispered, barely audible.

“My stomach… it hurts…”

She clutched her abdomen with a faint, pained moan, and Lyle’s hands shook. Panic clawed at him; he was on the brink of losing not just her, but the child as well. But his mind, muddled with fear, struggled to think.

Steeling himself, Lyle released a calming pheromone. It was a basic yet vital method to soothe an expectant Omega. A last, desperate gambit that, mercifully, worked.

Yernen, as if drawing sustenance from the invisible lifeline, clung to his tunic and buried her face against him, her breathing gradually slowing to a steadier rhythm.

Once her condition seemed stable, Lyle shed his outer cloak, wrapping it around her, and stormed out of the carriage. There was no time to waste.

The scene outside was a chaotic blur of subdued guards and restrained traitors. All eyes shifted to Lyle as he emerged, Yernen cradled in his arms. He suppressed the fury bubbling beneath his skin as he spoke, voice low and lethal.

“Anyone who dares to look this way will lose their head where they stand.”

The onlookers flinched and turned away, none daring to meet his eyes again. Without a backward glance, Lyle made his way to his horse, Austin shadowing him closely.

“In the carriage, Eden Petra. Ensure he doesn’t escape. Escort him to the capital under guard. He’s to be tried for attempted regicide and heresy. Fail, and it’s your head.”

Austin nodded solemnly. “Yes, Your Majesty.”

Mounting his horse, Lyle’s patience wore thin. He barked orders, splitting the company. “Half will remain to clean up here. The rest, follow me to the nearest temple.”

With Yernen in his grasp, Lyle drove his horse forward without waiting for a response. Her soft groan reached him as he urged the steed faster, and he held her tighter, releasing more of the soothing pheromone.

“Just a bit longer, Yernen. Hold on. We’re almost there.”

She clung to consciousness, fighting the darkness that threatened to pull her under. The thought of falling—of an accident—terrified her. She couldn’t let it happen.

Weakly, she gripped Lyle’s tunic, fingers slipping and catching, unable to hold on. But as sleep tugged at her, a strange sense of security washed over her. His embrace was unyielding, familiar, and safe.

In that cradle of warmth, she heard him, clear and remorseful, whispering apologies for his lateness and leaving her alone.
Yernen, always composed, had shown strength through it all. But now, nestled in his arms and hearing those words, she allowed herself to slip into a deep, exhausted sleep.

Nothing was resolved yet—not Eden’s capture nor the safety of their allies—but as she drifted off, an inexplicable sense of peace wrapped around her.

When her eyes opened, the first thing she saw was his chest, solid and familiar. She didn’t need to look up to know whose embrace she was in. The scent, the warm, heady pheromone, told her everything.

Determined, she pushed against him, trying to break free, but his arms tightened, refusing to let her go. Even when she struggled, his hold only grew firmer.

“Let go.”

“That’s not an option,” Lyle’s voice, steady and clear, carried no trace of sleep.

“You’ll run away again,” he added, a note of raw emotion breaking through.

“…”

Yernen pressed her lips into a thin line, shoving harder. This time, he relented, allowing her to sit up. A sigh of frustration escaped her. Escaping one prison only to fall into another—life had a cruel sense of irony.

Lyle’s eyes softened as they fell to her abdomen, where the outline beneath loose fabric spoke of the child growing within.
“The child is safe,” he said quietly.

Yernen’s gaze dropped to her hands, resting over her belly. But she didn’t respond or meet his eyes, the silence between them swelling.

“Come back with me, Yernen,” Lyle said, a rare gentleness lacing his words.

Her jaw tightened, lips paling as she bit down hard. Lyle had never addressed her by name—not once since she had assumed this body. It was always titles, formalities that separated them even in intimacy. For him to speak her name now meant there was no longer any denial about who she truly was.

“…I won’t,” she replied, voice barely above a whisper, pushing herself up to leave. Lyle’s hand shot out, capturing her wrist.

“Yernen—”

Without turning, she spoke, each word a dagger. “You saw it.”
Lyle’s breath caught. He knew immediately what she meant: the scrying orb, the secret laid bare. He had planned to take that knowledge to the grave, aware of how it would splinter the fragile trust between them.

He thought it was the right decision—to leave the deep wound untouched, believing that only then would Yernen not leave his side. But he had been mistaken.

Some wounds don’t fade simply because they are hidden.
He had been wrong. And now, it was clear that silence had only led them here. The consequences were more painful than he could have imagined, a nightmare he never wanted to repeat.

Determined, Lyle’s voice came out firm. “Yes, I saw it.”

“…”

Yernen wanted to say that he knew, that now Lyle should leave. But the words stuck in his throat, refusing to come. The confirmation of what he had already suspected—hearing Lyle admit it—made his hands tremble. Desperate to hide the tremor, Yernen yanked his wrist away and tried to regain control. But it was pointless. His mind was a chaotic storm, throbbing with pain.
Unable to regain his composure, Yernen clutched his head, and the words he never intended to say spilled out.

“So now you understand. The person I was and the person I am now—they’re not the same.”

The moment the words left his mouth, regret washed over him.

‘Damn it.’

He was sick of himself. How much more of his brokenness would he reveal?

“I’ll give you the child as per the contract. With an heir who carries royal bl00d, you can strengthen the empire’s power. Let’s end it here.”

“…”

Lyle didn’t respond. All Yernen could hear was the rustle of sheets and the familiar scent of pheromones drawing near. He didn’t have to look back to know Lyle stood right behind him.
“What’s different?” Lyle’s voice was calm, probing.

“…”

“You still say infuriating things. You still put others before yourself, despite your burdens. Even that look you get—as if I’m the only one who can save you—that hasn’t changed. You’re the same Yernen Helio I’ve always known.”

“…”

“You say you’re different.”

Lyle echoed the words, voice softer but resolute.

“Fine. I won’t deny that some things have changed. But don’t you know? Even the parts of you that you want to hide—I love those too.”

“…”

“Don’t underestimate my feelings,” Lyle continued, still staring at Yernen’s turned back. “I don’t need the child, or even the throne. All I need is you. Did you forget? I’m the fool who’d throw everything away if you told me to.”

But Lyle already knew the truth. He didn’t need Yernen to face him to understand that silence wasn’t indifference.

When he wrapped his arms around Yernen’s frail shoulders, he felt the trembling through his hold.

“I promised to stay by your side, to protect you. I’m sorry for not being there when you needed me most. For letting you suffer alone… I’m sorry.”

And he knew, too, that the one trembling wasn’t only Yernen.

“I’m not the helpless child I once was. This time, no matter what happens, I’ll protect you.”

“…”

“Come back to the palace with me, Yernen. Please.”

Yernen tried to steel himself, to keep the tears from spilling. But Lyle’s words, spoken with such sincerity, made it impossible. They were both so stubborn, so foolish.

The Yernen of the past and the Yernen of now—they were different. He knew he could never return to who he was. Not unless everything he had endured disappeared.

But if there was one fear left in the world for him, it was the possibility that Lyle would reject the person he had become.
Yet, if Lyle still loved him, if there was a chance that things could return to how they once were…

Yernen wanted to stay by his side.

With a pale, slender hand, he clutched the arms that held him and gave a small nod.

“…!”

Lyle’s embrace stiffened before tightening fiercely, so much so that Yernen could feel dampness on his neck. But this time, Yernen didn’t push him away. Instead, he returned the embrace.