The Hero Returns with his Yandere Wife-Chapter 45 - 44

An Hour Ago

Ryn slumped against Mira’s back, the roasted rabbit settling heavy in his stomach. His amber eyes drifted half-closed, lethargy tugging his body as shadows wrapped him like a warm blanket in the night’s chill.

Mira’s steady stride rocked him gently, her warmth a quiet anchor.

Then, a jolt snapped him alert—his senses flared, sharp and primal.

His gaze locked onto a faint heat signature, two hundred meters back, barely a shimmer against the dark. It wasn’t just a body; it was a predator, cloaked in shadow, hiding with skill that prickled his instincts.

Most amateurs with powers were easy to catch on a night like this—the subtlest muscle twitch bleeding heat, a breath warping the air’s flow, a misplaced shadow shifting against the moonlight.

The high ranking Superhero’s heightened senses caught everything: the pulse of a heartbeat humming through the ground, the whisper of energy restrained, the distortion of ambient warmth where breath should have vanished clean.

But this figure? This was no amateur.

They were motionless, their presence smothered into nothingness, their body absorbing the cold like a void. No tells, no wasted movement—a professional.

A-class? Maybe. S-class? More likely.

Luckily, Syn—with his absurd perception, all his finely tuned instincts— was able to spot him out.

If not for that one, tiny flicker of heat from the bodies’ chest.

Ryn’s amber eyes flicked over the darkened treeline, narrowing. No backup. No pack. Just a lone signature lurking in the shadows.

His gut twisted.

A spy? A scout?

His mind raced. Take them out before they could squeal? Or was this a rare chance to turn the tables? The question gnawed at him, sharp and relentless—who did they serve? Skullrend? Bloodlash? Razorfang himself?

Too many players. Too little time.

He leaned down, voice barely a breath against Mira’s ear.

"We’ve got company. Two hundred meters, seven o’clock. Hiding. Behind the tall tree."

Mira cursed under her breath, her voice a low, venomous hiss. "Useless damn heroes. Can’t even spot a tail. This whole thing’s a mistake—should’ve ditched ’em and gone solo."

Ryn’s lips curled into a crooked, knowing smile. His tone stayed light, almost teasing—a contrast to the tension crackling in the air.

"That’s why we’re here, isn’t it?" A slow pause, then—"To help them out of this mess." 𝙧𝙚𝙚𝔀𝒆𝓫𝓷𝙤𝓿𝒆𝙡.𝒄𝙤𝓶

Mira huffed, shadows twitching at her feet, but didn’t argue.

Beside them, The Vitalist cast a sidelong glance their way, her silver-gray eyes flickering with curiosity. She tilted her head, golden-lit hands fidgeting, but kept her questions to herself. Her focus drifted back to her own skin—bruises fading beneath the soft glow of her power.

Mira exhaled slowly, closing her eyes for a heartbeat. Her shadows stretched—silent, seeking—like a web unfurling through the dark. A thin tendril slithered toward the spy’s position, brushing against the tree close to the unseen figure before melting back into the ground.

Her nose wrinkled as she inhaled, sorting through the scents carried on the night air. "Rust," she muttered. "Wood. Sea water. Dock stink—he’s one of Skullrend’s."

Ryn’s smirk widened, a wicked glint sparking in his amber eyes. "Good. Let it play out."

Mira cracked one eye open, peering up at him. "What’s the move, genius?"

Ryn’s voice stayed low, steady, sure. "Let him watch. He’ll run back, sound the alarm. That sets the trap—for us to flip. Quick and dirty. I have a feeling, it will save us a lot of time."

Mira’s smirk mirrored his, her shadows curling tighter, eager. "I hate how you get so damn excited when you’re about to do something reckless."

The Vitalist blinked, sensing the shift, but stayed silent, her golden light pulsing faintly as she kept pace.

Present

Skullrend’s metal jaw clicked as he loomed over the trapped heroes, his red eye glowing with sadistic glee.

His voice rumbled, thick with mockery. "Gonna enjoy this—carvin’ you all up, ’specially you, Elena. Razorfang’s got a fat bounty on that pretty head of yours—dead or alive. Bring him your half-dead body, and I’m sittin’ pretty. The rest of you? Trash. Might kill ya quick, or.., might keep ya alive for laughs. Depends on my mood."

His gaze roamed the group, lingering on the women with a lecherous sneer. It settled on Mira, standing front and center with Ryn still perched on her back.

"That one," he rasped, nodding at her, "she’s a hot little thing. Those vicious black eyes—send a shiver right down my spine and blood somewhere else." He licked his lips, cybernetic jaw glinting as he leered at her sleek black dress and long, smooth hair cascading like ink. "All that shadow and attitude—she’s my type. Gonna break her slow."

The heroes bristled—Ironclad’s fists creaked, Vortex’s winds sharpened—but fear clung to them, their eyes occasionally darting at the encircling villains. Four-to-one odds, A-class enforcers grinning with confidence, B- and C-class grunts itching for blood.

Gutshard flexed his claws, Lashbite cracked her whip, and Frostveil stood rigid, her icy gaze flickering guiltily between Mira and the ground, avoiding Elena entirely.

Then a head popped up from behind Mira’s shoulder—Ryn, his amber eyes glinting, black hair tousled like hers. He slid off her back with a fluid motion, landing beside her, his smirk unshaken. Flames sparked at his fingertips, small but defiant, dancing in time with the shadows curling at Mira’s feet.

Skullrend’s sneer faltered, his human eye narrowing. "What’s with you two?" he growled, voice rough with suspicion. "Whole damn lot’s shakin’, but you’re smilin’ like you won somethin’. What’s so funny, brats?"

Around them, the heroes wavered—nervous, sweaty, clutching powers like lifelines. Elena’s steel-blue eyes burned with forced bravado, her iron fist clenched tight.

The wiry man muttered under his breath, "We’re screwed..." The woman with the singed cape gripped her charred fabric, knuckles white. But Ryn and Mira stood apart, unshaken, their grins a stark contrast to the dread choking the air.

Mira tilted her head, black eyes gleaming with something feral, shadows rippling like a tide ready to crash. Ryn flicked his wrist, a tongue of fire licking up his arm, his smirk widening into a dare.

They didn’t answer Skullrend’s taunt—just stared him down, a pair of wolves grinning at a bear too dumb to see the jaws closing in.

Why? Skullrend wondered.