The car drove steadily and quickly along the road, with dim yellow streetlights rushing by outside the window. Ahead lay an endless expanse of dark night. Her thoughts never ceased for a moment, recalling the events of the past few days. He had not forced her to do anything, nor had he shown any dissatisfaction with her stubbornness.
His tolerance for her behavior bordered on indulgence, yet she distinctly felt a different, more intense kind of oppression. She could not bear the icy blue eyes watching her from the shadows; she could not endure the ghost that silently entered her room every midnight; she could not withstand the enormous black hand that seemed ready to pull her into the abyss of darkness…
Innocently, she had become embroiled in this game of conquest and submission. Just as at the beginning, he smiled hypocritically, attempting to win her heart with gold, silver, jewels, and silks, much like a wolf pretending to be asleep. However, her steadfast resistance only enraged him, and thus his brutal, bloodthirsty nature began to reveal itself. This brutality escalated gradually with the intensity of her resistance. He was a wolf, just as his name suggested. Despite swinging from one extreme to another, giving her a false sense of security, a wolf would always remain a wolf; his essence would not change.
But what was she to do? She could not choose death, nor could she control her own body. The only thing left for her to choose and grasp was her soul, along with the little dignity that remained. How much longer could she hold on… She clenched her hands tightly, her fingers cold, yet her palms still felt the warmth that came from him…
The car arrived at the mansion, and he still did not open the car door for her. He simply exited from the passenger seat, leaping up the steps without looking back, pushing open the grand door, stepping into the foyer, and quickly ascending the staircase. She pushed open the car door, ran up the steps, and pushed open the front door of the house.
Standing in the foyer, she saw his figure already at the corner of the second floor. “Wait…” she called out to him. He suddenly stopped in place and turned to look down at her. His speed was too fast; she clearly had to jog to keep up with his pace.
She wore a plain-colored dress, her skin pale and her figure slender. From this angle, looking up at him, her large, obsidian-like eyes appeared even clearer and more prominent. However, just before leaving the mansion, that charming pink hue on her lips had vanished, replaced by pallor. Her lips trembled slightly, and her chest rose and fell violently, as if she were summoning the courage to say something. He stood there, squinting, silently waiting for her to speak, his dark, elongated figure looming above, resembling a king ruling over all.
She felt a bit fearful, but if she didn’t speak the words that had been bottled up inside her, she would be driven mad by him. After a long pause, she finally spoke: “What… do you want from me?”
His voice rumbled like distant thunder above her head. The volume was not loud, yet it carried a tremendous sense of oppression. He did not answer her question but instead retorted with an imperious tone, “That’s a question I should be asking you. What do you want?”
Khanyi did not expect him to respond in this way. Her dark eyes sparkled with a glimmering light as she gazed up at him from below.
“Don’t look at me with those eyes! If you still want to keep your eyes,” he raised his voice, pointing directly at her head, threatening her viciously.
Khanyi did not heed his warning and continued to look up at him, her dark eyes showing no hint of fear or retreat. Suddenly, she felt an inexplicable, intense sensation; this time, his brutality was not entirely the same as before. It felt so weak and powerless. She steadied her emotions and spoke in a slow, low tone: “I cannot accept you. I cannot forgive you for being so cruel to me before. I cannot forgive the pain you inflicted on my body and soul. Not only that, but you also killed the innocent Dr. Harrison and the kind Charles. Your hands are stained with blood… You can kill me, you can continue to torment me, but do not expect me to forgive you or accept you. Give up on that…” She tried to keep her tone calm, stating a fact rather than making an accusation.
She spoke at length, but finally stopped. Compared to his angry shouts and warnings, she feared his cold laughter even more. He tilted his head back and chuckled a few times before looking at her again. “Very well, you are an angel, singing the praises of justice and hating evil. But you seem to have forgotten one thing: our agreement, my angel. It is time for you to fulfill your promise.”
The chill in his icy blue pupils made her instantly understand his words. She stood rigidly at the foot of the stairs, like a dove with broken wings, trembling and ready to be slaughtered. But this was the outcome she desired; she would rather be torn apart by his brutality than be ensnared by his tenderness.
He descended the stairs step by step, gradually approaching her like a vampire, this bloodsucker long starved. He spread his black wings, quickly enveloping her, his beautiful nose close to her neck, inhaling deeply. Her scent was so fragrant. He swept her up in his arms; her petite body felt so light, offering no resistance. She allowed him to carry her as he ascended the stairs.
He laid her down on the bed. Her body was very stiff, but her hands tightly covered her chest. He spread her arms apart.
