Invincible Blood Sorceror

Chapter 210: She chose me!

She looked at Jamie, this man she’d been married to for over a decade, who’d given her Luke, who’d also controlled her, diminished her, and treated her more as a possession than a partner. Then she looked at Luke, her son, her baby, the child she’d raised and loved with her whole heart.

The child who’d just offered to trade her to save himself.

Something shattered in her expression. Some fundamental belief about her family, about her place in their lives, and about what they actually valued.

She’d thought Luke loved her. Had believed that her son’s affection was genuine, that despite his flaws, he cared about her as a person rather than as an object that provided maternal comfort and social status.

But when death threatened, when his survival required choosing between her and himself, he’d chosen himself without hesitation. Had offered her to Jorghan like she was currency, something to be traded for his life.

Years of motherhood, and in the moment that mattered most, she’d learned her value to him.

Grace stood there in silence, staring at Jorghan’s hand on her face, feeling the gentleness in his touch, seeing something in his eyes she’d only glimpsed briefly before.

Love.

Not possession.

Not ownership.

Not the controlling affection Jamie showed or the dependent need Luke demonstrated. Just simple, unconditional love from someone who’d crossed the void between worlds because he’d thought she needed rescuing.

For the first time since he’d entered the Great Hall, she really looked at him. Looked past the violence, past the blood on his clothes, past the monster everyone else saw.

And she saw the boy she’d left behind decades ago. Her child, whom she killed with her own hands, tears rolled down her face, and she could see the rage in his eyes, the calm rage that he was controlling. She felt like she understood why he was doing all this.

"Oh, what have I done?"

Grace’s hand rose slowly, trembling, and closed around Jorghan’s. She held it against her face, feeling the warmth of his skin, the strength in his fingers, and the blood essence that still swirled faintly around his form.

"I did a terrible thing that no mother should have done. I am beyond forgiving; just kill me, kill this ungrateful mother, baby."

She wept and wept, tears flowing continuously, rolling down her cheeks as she held his hand.

Jorghan stood motionless, staring at her. He would have cried if he were his past self, but seeing how she had done all these things and seeing Jamie and Luke, he didn’t feel any emotion towards her.

He was messing with them earlier. He would have killed those two regardless, but after hearing them, he got a new idea.

*

Jorghan chuckled as he moved back.

"What a twisted little family we have here. Mother wants to die, while her son wants desperately to live, by doing anything necessary. And the father, the husband, the head of the family, is nothing but whining about how spineless he was."

Jamie groaned.

Jorghan moved towards Grace, and his fingers caught Grace’s chin, tilting her face up so she had no choice but to look into his cold, hungry eyes.

The room was dead quiet except for Jamie’s heavy, furious breathing and Luke’s soft whimpering from the floor.

A slow, sick smile spread across Jorghan’s face.

He liked this.

He liked it too fucking much.

Grace’s throat worked, but she stayed silent. Tears welled up, but she refused to let them fall.

Jorghan glanced at Luke.

He turned his head to look at Jamie, who was still glaring defiance despite kneeling helplessly on the marble floor.

He wrapped his arms around her, his right hand crushing her breasts while his left pressed hard against her stomach. He savored every second of it, drawing sadistic pleasure from the way she trembled under his grip.

In his past life, Jorghan hadn’t just loved his mother—he’d burned for her. It started innocent enough, the way a boy clings to the one warm thing in a cold world. But as years stretched on and she was taken from him, married off to some distant lord, the ache grew teeth. Every night alone, he pictured her face, her soft voice, and the curve of her body under those thin dresses. The love twisted deeper, darker, until it wasn’t love anymore—it was hunger. Obsession. A black, roaring need to own her completely, body and soul. No one else could touch her. No one else could even look.

He never spoke it out loud. Never let the words slip. He buried it like a blade in his chest and carried it silent through battles, through blood, through every empty fuck that never filled the hole she left.

When death took him the first time—poison in his cup, her hand shaking as she poured it, he carried that madness with him into the dark.

But death couldn’t hold him.

He clawed his way back, reborn in new flesh, stronger, sharper, the obsession now a living fire. He found her again, Grace, still beautiful, still carrying the weight of what she’d done.

It was one thing he never got past.

He had learned a lot and evolved from a simple mafia man to a powerful elf sorcerer, but his desire for this woman never faded.

"Are you watching me, dear uncle? Is this the woman she claimed?" Jorghan asked.

Jamie was fuming and cursing.

Jorghan just smiled and moved back.

Then he raised his hand, and red-colored vines sprouted out of his hand and shot towards Jamie.

Jamie’s wrists were bound with those vines that pulsed with dark red light, vines that tightened if he struggled, cutting into skin like living wire. Jorghan threw him to the floor, then crouched over him, crimson eyes glowing faintly in the torchlight.

"You should have never touched her," Jorghan said, voice low and calm, like a blade sliding from its sheath.

"Grace was mine before you even knew her name. You waited like a dog for me to die."

Jamie spat blood, glaring up at him.

"She chose me. She hated you."