Before Rosearia could even process what he just said, Asmodeus shifted his weight. Without a second word or a shred of warning, he unceremoniously loosened his grip and let go.
"Ah—!"
Rosearia hit the cold floor with a painful thud, scraping her knees against the stone.
"Ouch!" She glared up at his retreating back, rubbing her bruised palms. "Don’t you have any manners at all?!"
Asmodeus didn’t even slow his pace, his heavy dark cloak trailing behind him like a wave of living mist. He was ignoring her completely, treating her presence as nothing more than a passing breeze beneath his notice.
Who does he think he is?
A sudden spike of reckless indignation flared in Rosearia’s chest. She couldn’t stand being dismissed — not when her heart was still hammering frantically against her ribs from the fall, and certainly not after he had dropped her like an unwanted rag.
Gritting her teeth against the pain in her feet, she pushed herself up and hurried after him, her bare soles slapping softly against the stone.
"Hey! I’m talking to—"
She reached out and snagged his long, silk sleeve, forcing him to a sudden halt.
Asmodeus turned his head slowly over his shoulder. The moment she saw his face, the words died instantly in Rosearia’s throat.
Her breath hitched. A bone-chilling shudder ran straight down her spine. The piercing, deep dark-blue eyes she had looked into just moments ago were completely gone. In their place were two voids of absolute, pitch-black abyss — no irises, no whites, just terrifying, all-consuming darkness.
"I... I..." Rosearia stammered, taking an involuntary half-step back as genuine terror seized her chest. The anger she had felt a second ago vanished into thin air. "I... I just wanted to say thank you. For catching me."
Asmodeus turned his entire body to face her. His pitch-black gaze locked onto her trembling frame, reading every violent thud of her heart and the sheer panic painted across her features.
"Are you terrified of me?" he asked. His voice was no longer a smooth rumble — it carried a raspy, dangerous edge that vibrated directly through the stone floorboards.
"N-No," she lied, her voice squeaking softly.
"Are you sure?"
He took a slow step forward.
Rosearia’s survival instincts blared red alert. The look on his face had shifted entirely. He no longer looked like an aloof noble or a cold demon prince. He looked like an apex predator that had just stumbled upon a helpless, bleeding prey — and she was entirely at his mercy.
Panicking, Rosearia scrambled backward, barefoot, each hasty step cutting sharply into her soles against the rough, jagged stone. But the physical pain was nothing compared to the primal terror driving her movement.
Step. Step. Thud.
Her back hit the cold, unyielding wall. She was trapped.
Before she could even scream, Asmodeus closed the distance in a dark blur. He slammed his body against hers, pinning her firmly to the wall. In a single, fluid motion, he grabbed both of her wrists with one massive, iron-tight hand, hauling them up high above her head.
His head dipped straight into the sensitive crook of her neck.
Rosearia gasped as two sharp, razor-like fangs elongated past his pale lips, pressing directly against her frantic pulse point. The air around them turned suffocatingly hot, filled with the thick, metallic scent of wild dark demon magic. He was going to drain her dry right here in the dark.
She was fragile, powerless and utterly weak.
Tears burst from her eyes, hot and fast, streaming down her pale cheeks and soaking her long green hair. "Please..." she sobbed out, her small frame shaking violently under his crushing weight. "Please... don’t hurt me..."
The small, heart-wrenching sound of her sob echoed loudly.
Asmodeus froze.
The razor-sharp pressure against her throat paused. Slowly, the thick, predatory haze in his mind seemed to fracture. The pitch-black darkness in his eyes receded like a retreating tide, swirling back into a deep, stormy midnight blue.
He stared down at her face — at the wide, terrified red eyes, the wet tears, and the way she cowered beneath him like a dying bird.
Shit.
Asmodeus swore softly under his breath. He abruptly ripped his hand away from her wrists and turned, slamming his bare fist into the wall right beside her head.
BOOM!
Deep cracks spider-webbed across the heavy stone from the sheer force of his blow, sending dust raining down around them.
Without looking at her again, Asmodeus bent down. In a swift movement, he unbuckled his own fur-lined leather boots and slid them onto her cold, bleeding feet. Then, with a fluid sweep of his broad shoulders, he unclasped his heavy dark cloak and draped it over her trembling body, swathing her completely in his rich scent and lingering magic.
He straightened up, his face returning to a stone-cold, emotionless mask. He met her tear-stained gaze one last time.
"Stay away from me," he said, his voice flat and final.
Before she could even blink, his shadow elongated, and he vanished into thin air.
Rosearia collapsed against the cracked wall, sliding down until she was sitting on the floor.
She stared blindly into the empty darkness, completely numb. Her mind was a chaotic storm of horror and shock. She had come so close to dying. If he hadn’t stopped... if he hadn’t snapped back at the sound of her tears...
"I should have listened to Adrian," she thought bitterly, burying her face in the heavy folds of Asmodeus’s cloak. "He warned me. He told me not to leave the room."
"My Lady!"
A soft beam of light cut through the gloom, followed by quick, rhythmic footsteps.
Rosearia looked up numbly. Emerging from the corridor was Anthony, holding a tall brass lantern high in the air.
"My Lady, are you alright?" Anthony asked, his sharp brow furrowed in deep concern as he hurried to her side. "I thought I explicitly advised you to remain in your chambers tonight."
Rosearia was shaking so violently her teeth chattered. The world around her felt distorted, hazy, and terrifying.
"Do you require assistance?" Anthony offered softly, extending a gloved hand down to help her up from the cold floor.
The moment his fingers neared her skin, something dark, violent, and dangerous surged up from the depths of her chest.
Smack!
Rosearia lashed out, slapping his hand away with a harsh, sharp crack that echoed down the quiet hallway.
"Don’t touch me!" she snarled, her red eyes flashing with a sudden, feral heat. "I can walk by myself!"
Anthony gasped softly, drawing his hand back in surprise. He bowed his head immediately, his expression softening into polite remorse. "Ah—I am deeply sorry, My Lady."
The moment her own words left her mouth, Rosearia froze. Her hand trembled in mid-air. "Why did I do that?" It didn’t feel like her — like something else had reached up from beneath her skin and forced her limbs to move.
"This way, My Lady," Anthony said quietly, completely ignoring her sudden outburst as he gestured down the hall with his lantern.
Rosearia forced herself to stand, her heavy body weighed down by Asmodeus’s oversized cloak and leather boots. She took one shaky step forward—
A sudden, violent wave of dizziness struck her like a physical blow.
Everywhere all at once spun wildly around her. The flickering lantern light stretched into long, blurry lines, and the cold air in her lungs turned to ice. Her knees buckled beneath her.
"My Lady—!" Anthony’s panicked voice sounded like it was coming from deep underwater.
Rosearia’s vision went completely black, and she collapsed into the darkness before she ever hit the stone floor.