# Chapter 88: The Rift of Hades, a Stolen Child, and a Kingdom on the Brink
Hello everyone, it’s me again! How are you all doing? Today I will continue to walk with you and review Chapter 88 of *Forgotten Wife: Let the Traitors Kneel Down*. This is the chapter where sweat, blood, and tears mix together. A mother fights to close the gates of hell, a queen rises from exhaustion, a fragile baby is torn from her father’s arms, and a dark princess smiles in the shadows. If you thought the storm had passed, think again—this chapter opens the floodgates to chaos. So take a deep breath, settle into your comfiest spot, and let’s walk through this breathtaking chapter together.
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The air around the crack to Hades was thick with death. Abril poured every ounce of magic she had into sealing the rift, her body trembling like a leaf in a hurricane. Sirius shouted warnings. Taren screamed for decapitation. Enzo launched fireballs. But the monsters clawing out of the darkness refused to fall. They kept coming, regenerating, snarling, hungry for blood.
Taren paid the heaviest price. In one brutal, savage moment, a creature severed his sword arm. He screamed, but he refused to stop. He gritted his teeth and fought on, because Abril still stood in the center of that storm, her life bleeding away in waves of pure light.
Then came the final cry—and the crack to Hades slammed shut.
But victory tasted like ash. Because standing on the other side, bathed in shadows, was Cira. Her smile was wrong, cold, strange. “We’ll meet again, sister,” she whispered, and the words echoed straight into Abril’s bones.
Cira advanced, darkness swirling around her like a living storm. Enzo stepped in front of Abril, surprising even himself with the force of his protective instinct. He had never expected to shield her like this. “Cira! Stop!” he shouted, flames flaring to block a strike of black magic. “You’re not like this!”
But Cira only laughed. A cold, beautiful, terrible sound. “You don’t know anything about me,” she said. She admitted she had always sought recognition from her father, and now she wanted only one thing: to open the gates of Hades and build her own world, with herself as supreme sovereign. No one above her. No one to mock her. No one to forget her.
Abril pushed herself to her feet. “I won’t let you do this!”
Cira’s hand closed around Abril’s throat. “You look pathetic. I could kill you with a flick of my wrist. But I want to see you suffer first—I want to see you lose everything. Your love. Your husband. Your daughter.”
Abril summoned the last dregs of her magic, unleashing a desperate burst that sent Cira crashing down. But Cira healed herself with darkness, a mocking smile curling her lips. “So you can still fight,” she sneered. “Don’t you dare touch my family!” Abril growled. But Cira only turned her gaze to Enzo. “And I will have my revenge on you too.”
Enzo’s face went pale. He knew exactly what she meant.
But Cira didn’t strike. She vanished into the shadows like smoke, leaving only her echo behind. Abril lunged, caught nothing, and collapsed to her knees. “Alessandro!” she cried, clutching the necklace at her throat. She tried to warn him. She tried to scream that her sister was coming—that the whole family was in danger. But the connection failed. She had run out of time, out of magic, out of everything.
Darkness swallowed her.
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Princess Cira didn’t waste a moment. She descended into the darkest dungeons of her kingdom, following the smell of hatred. There she found Liona—a girl whose bitterness had rotted her heart. “Who do you hate so fervently?” Cira asked, her voice like silk over a blade.
“It’s Princess Abril’s fault I’m trapped here!” Liona sobbed.
Cira smiled. “I hate her too. I’ll give you the power you need to win.”
She bit her lip, and a single drop of blood fell onto Liona’s forehead. The girl screamed, her body twisting and breaking and remaking itself. When it was over, Liona looked younger—smoother, harder, more dangerous. She pressed her forehead to Cira’s feet. “Your Majesty, this humble servant bows before you. I will do all you ask and rid us of our common enemy, Abril.”
“I hope so,” Cira said softly.
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Back in the kingdom of Laios, Abril woke with a hammer pounding in her skull. Sirius forbade her from sitting up. She demanded answers. “How long have I been sleeping?”
“A few days,” he said grimly.
Then the alarms began. Monsters attacked the city, columns of smoke and fire climbing into the sky. Abril begged Sirius to go help the people. He refused. “My duty is to protect you, not them.” She hated him for it. But he only sighed and said, “You are weak. Right now, there’s no difference between you and them. Stop trying to make me feel guilty for not saving everyone.”
Meanwhile, Taren appeared at Alessandro’s palace late at night, battle-worn and hiding more than he revealed. He told the king that Abril was alive in Laios, recovering, resting. He did not mention that she had drained every ounce of magic she had. Alessandro’s eyes narrowed. He knew Taren was keeping secrets. But he let the knight go.
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In the elven kingdom, the halls trembled with outrage. Queen Enora had summoned her generals. “They are preparing to bring a mestiza here,” she announced with cold disdain. A creature born of elf and human—an abomination in the eyes of their people. But Kiara, the princess, rebelled. She demanded to know why love for another race was forbidden. She even challenged her mother: “If I had a mestiza, would you close your heart to me too?”
Her mother answered without hesitation: “Yes, I would.”
Kiara’s heart broke. Something dark, she sensed, was moving toward their kingdom. And the queen had hardened herself completely.
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Lissana was burning with fever. Maya rocked her, stroked her hair, but the child only cried and cried. Cassian panicked. He fetched doctors. None of them could understand what was wrong. Finally, Cassian went to Alessandro: “We have no other options. We need to call Abril back.”
Alessandro reached for the connection. “Aby. You need to come back right now.”
“What’s wrong with my baby?”
“Lissana has a fever. The doctors don’t know what’s wrong.”
Abril’s heart lurched. She tried to stand too quickly, staggered, and fell. She spoke to Alessandro with trembling words, promising to return soon. But the moment their conversation ended, she collapsed beside a jar and vomited until her stomach was empty.
Sirius found her weak, pale. She knew exactly what was wrong with Lissana—the child’s unpredictable magic had been suppressed too long, and now her little body was drowning in its own energy. “I have to get back,” she insisted. “Lissana needs me.”
“You have to stay with her until you recover,” Sirius said. He brewed a vile, sticky remedy. It smelled like rotten herbs and misery. Abril forced every drop down her throat because she had no time for pride. She had no time for anything.
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Enzo knocked on her door. “Are you going somewhere?” he asked.
“We must return to Laios,” she said. “Lissana is sick. I have to go.”
They spoke of the war, of Cira, of the hunger for revenge. Enzo admitted he had never wanted to kill everyone. They had both been neglected, forgotten children, fighting for a father’s love. Abril told him softly, “I care for us.” Then they parted ways at the gate.
Hans intercepted her. He had loved Princess Cira once, and he still loved her despite everything. “No matter what she’s become—please, don’t kill her,” he begged.
Abril’s answer was honest, but heavy: “I can promise nothing. But I will consider it.”
Sirius warned her that this kindness would become a wound. Abril only whispered, “I share a bond with Cira. Even if I see no good in her, if I can help, I will.”
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Then disaster broke open in Cosset.
Maya and Cassian were exhausted by Lissana’s endless fever. And Cassian burst into the room with terrible news: an army had surrounded the palace. Not in silence. Not with warnings. They were simply there, waiting like carrion crows.
Alessandro walked into the night, wind swirling around him. The army belonged to the elven kingdom. A red-haired woman stepped forward, sword drawn. Queen Enora Babette. “I am here for the mestiza.”
Alessandro refused. He told her there was no mestiza. But Enora felt the child’s magic, bright and impossible. She warned him: Lissana’s power could not contain itself. Without intervention, the baby would die. Swearing on her sister Sophia’s memory, Enora promised no harm—but she demanded custody. So Alessandro, desperate, had no choice but to lead her to his daughter.
Inside the room, Maya clutched Lissana until her own arms trembled. Enora coaxed the baby from her and placed a hand over her heart. Warm light flowed out, chasing the fever away, coloring the child’s cheeks pink. Lissana’s breathing steadied. Enora was astonished by the power—this child should not exist.
Alessandro drew his sword, thinking to take Lissana back. But the elven warrior Bleir answered, blade at his throat. A heartbeat of madness followed. Cassian and Taren created a distraction. Maya tried to escape. But Enora swept the baby through a portal, her eyes shining with cold victory. “If the half-breed wishes to see this girl again,” she declared, “tell her to avenge Arkala.”
The portal closed.
Lissana was gone.
Alessandro screamed her name. He lost control of his magic. A tornado burst from him, tearing through the palace, shattering windows, hurling stone and glass through the air. Cassian shouted for Taren to help, but no one could get close without being slaughtered.
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Abril arrived at the edge of the royal capital and found the road infested with monsters. Sirius hurled himself into them as a distraction, leaving Abril one narrow opening to run. She dashed through the chaos, struck down small creatures with daggers, and activated the teleportation bracelet. When she opened her eyes, she was at the palace gates.
But what she saw stole her breath. A monstrous windstorm raged inside the castle grounds. Abril thought Lissana’s powers had gone mad. She ran anyway. Cassian screamed at her not to go in. She ignored him.
Branches and stones whipped past her. Cuts opened on her arms. The wind tried to drag her away. She called out—“Alessandro!”—but he didn’t hear. She used the last of her magic to weaken the barrier, slipped through the final wall of wind, and wrapped her arms around him.
“Alessandro, stop!”
His eyes snapped open. The tornado died. He looked down at her pale, exhausted face. “Aby—what are you doing here?”
She collapsed in his arms. And Alessandro felt his entire world crumble.
Sirius arrived too late. “She used her magic, didn’t she?” He cursed. “It’s all we can do now—wait and see if she recovers.” Alessandro’s voice cracked: “Will she die?” Sirius could only say, “She’s strong. I’m sure she’ll pull through.”
But neither of them believed it entirely.
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Far away in Arkala, Kiara rushed into her mother’s chamber and found the queen holding a baby with black hair and golden eyes. For one wild, joyful moment, Kiara thought it was her cousin—Sophia’s daughter. “Is that my cousin?” she breathed.
Her mother answered brutally: “No. She’s mixed-race.”
But Kiara refused to let the child be thrown away like garbage. She fought her mother, argued with her, demanded the baby be treated as family. Compassion won in the end—for now. Kiara took Lissana to her own room, cradled her, fed her, rocked her to sleep. “Take care,” she whispered to the child. “Your mother will come looking for you. And I won’t allow anything to happen to you.”
Seven days passed. Abril lay unconscious. Alessandro barely slept. He sat by her side, drowning in guilt, replaying the moment the elven queen took his daughter. Cassian tried to persuade him to rest, and eventually he collapsed onto a nearby sofa, drifting into an uneasy sleep.
Maya was growing weaker, too. A pixie hovered at her bedside, insisting she return to the fairy realm or fade away. Maya refused. She could not bear to see Cassian suffer. Even as Cassian kissed her forehead and told her to recover quickly, she hid the truth in her smile. She was fading, slow and silent, like a candle in a draft.
And Ethan, somewhere beneath the watchful eyes of Arkala, tried once more to escape—only to find Dantriel waiting. The shadows were closing in from every direction, and the world of Cosset was about to be tested by fire.
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## Reader’s Impressions & Star Rating
This chapter left me breathless. Every time the family took a step forward, the ground crumbled beneath them. The emotional weight is enormous: Alessandro losing his daughter while the baby he loves is carried away into the arms of strangers; Abril pushing her body to the edge of death for people she loves; Maya hiding her illness behind a brave face; and Cira turning pain into pure malice. It’s painful, beautiful, and impossible to put down. The pacing is relentless, the stakes are massive, and the ending makes me want to scream for more.
Rating: ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ 4.9 / 5 Stars
## Next Chapter Prediction
Lissana is now in Arkala, but kind Princess Kiara has taken her in. The next chapter likely sees Abril wake from her coma, learn what happened, and make a dangerous journey into the elven kingdom. Meanwhile, Cira is training Liona as her weapon against Abril, and Maya’s secret illness is on the verge of breaking open. I predict a heart-wrenching confrontation at Arkala, a desperate rescue, and perhaps the truth about Sophia—the woman who may have once held a light powerful enough to save them all.
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