I Shall Cuck Everyone-Chapter 428: Amber’s Sad Past

Zamira's lips parted in silent shock as Jake's words settled in her ears like stones at the bottom of a well. She blinked, trying to process the weight of what he had just said, her posture stiff with disbelief. Across from her, Jake sat cross-legged on the mat floor of the living room, his elbows on his knees.

"I didn't know," Zamira finally whispered, her voice thick. "I mean... I knew Valkyries were tied to the gods, but I didn't realize they were literally slaves."

Jake exhaled slowly, nodding. "Yeah. Most people don't. They think of them as warriors of glory and honor. But the truth is... the gods didn't just make them fight. They owned them."

Zamira's brows drew in. "Owned them?"

Jake raised his gaze. "In every way. Their Body. Soul. Mind. And yeah... They probably also used them for pleasure too. Regularly." His jaw tightened as he said it. "It's probably why Amber is... you know. So good at giving head.

But when I made that bet, and then what happened between us—it probably brought back some memories which she didn't like."

Zamira's eyes clouded with empathy. "That's... that's quite sad," she murmured, her voice very low.

Jake said nothing in return. Eventually, Jake stood, brushing his pants.

"I'll check on her," he said quietly.

The evening air outside was cooler than expected, tinged with the scent of

iron-like smell

and the soft rustle of trees in the wind. Jake stepped into the compound, his boots crunching gently against the stone path. A lone blood moon fruit tree stood near the center, its dark red leaves glowing faintly in the moonlight.

Amber sat beneath it.

Her back was against the trunk, knees drawn up, arms loosely wrapped around them. Her blond hair shimmered under the starlight, and her gaze was fixed on the sky, unfocused and far away.

Jake retrieved two wooden chairs from the side of the house and carried it over, placing it beside her. As he sat down, Amber didn't turn to look at him, but he saw the subtle flicker of her eyes in acknowledgment.

"I'm sorry," Jake began after a moment, his voice low. "I usually do those stupid bets for fun. I didn't think it would bother you. I didn't know."

Amber didn't speak right away. Her eyes remained in the sky, as if searching for some kind of answer up there. Then, slowly, she shook her head.

"No," she said softly. "You didn't do anything wrong. I'm the one who acted... weird. It's not your fault."

Jake looked at her, his expression tense. "Still, if I—"

"Don't," she cut in, gently. "Jake, I've been trying to live like I'm free. But sometimes I forget what that even means. What being free feels like." She finally turned to face him. "You were just being you. I'm the one who still has chains I can't see."

Jake's eyes softened as he stood up from his chair and sat down beside her, resting on the tree bark. Tentatively, he reached out, letting his hand hover before placing it lightly over hers. Her fingers flinched at first, then relaxed. She looked down at their hands, then back up at him, a soft smile curling her lips.

"Thank you," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "For trying to understand."

Jake gave her a small nod. "Do you still want to spar with me?" he asked, as if trying to lighten the mood.

Amber chuckled faintly. "I don't think it matters anymore. We already crossed a line most sparring partners don't especially when the purpose is no longer there."

Jake raised an eyebrow. "So... that's a no?"

Amber leaned back against the tree trunk. "It's not now," she said, stretching her legs out. "I just... don't feel like pretending to fight you right now."

He grinned. "Fair enough."

A quiet peace settled over them. Amber shifted slightly and rested her head on Jake's shoulder, a motion so natural that it took him a second to process. He blinked, then gently intertwined his fingers with hers. She squeezed back, warm and firm.

They sat like that for nearly an hour.

Neither of them spoke. The wind rustled through the blood moon tree above, occasionally dropping a single leaf that fluttered to the ground like a dying ember.

Jake didn't even realize how much time had passed until he felt it.

A sudden shift in the air.

He looked up instinctively and saw the figure descending from the sky.

Wings like black fire unfurled from the man's back, the air shimmering as he hovered briefly, then landed in front of Jake a few meters away with a solid thud. Dust scattered around his boots. He was tall, clad in light armor with a traveling cloak fluttering behind him, and bore the silver-and-blue seal of the Dhampir special force.

Jake knew instantly that it was a messenger the Dhampir King sent back just so they could reciprocate his action of sending his own messenger. Seeing the vampire's own messenger standing behind him, it confirmed his doubts.

The man approached and bowed low, fist over chest in the traditional vampire greetings. "Regent Jake," the messenger said,. "The letter has been delivered to His Majesty, the Dhampir King. He read it… and replied."

Jake gave a slight nod. "Speak."

The messenger straightened and reached inside his satchel, drawing out a heavily ornate envelope. Gold filigree ran along the edges, curling around an emblem embossed in scarlet wax — a crescent moon pierced by a silver sword.

"He instructed me to deliver this to you personally," the messenger added, extending the letter with both hands.

Jake took the envelope. It was unusually old-fashioned — a relic from a bygone era when letters still held power. But considering the fragile truce and ever-present tension between the Dhampirs and the Vampires, such caution was necessary since they didn't even have contact with each other in the first place.

He broke the seal and unfolded the letter within.

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