The Heavenly Demon of Terror

Samuel's POV

Darkness swallowed us whole—thick, warm, and ancient. I braced myself for the expected. I thought we'd materialize in Queen Nerezza's grim citadel, somewhere atop her dead mountain throne laced with bones and silence. Instead, the stench of blood, stone, and dread was replaced with something far worse—

Lavender-scented sheets.

Soft pillows.

Roselle's goddamn bedroom.

I blinked. Once. Twice.

It was unmistakable. Crimson velvet drapes, ornate obsidian mirror, the soft hum of dark mana humming in the air like a lullaby. The kind of place built not for comfort, but for temptation—and war disguised in silk.

The worst part?

I was lying on her bed.