[Sirella's POV—Imperial Palace—Midnight]
His hand slammed against my throat so fast I barely saw the movement.
"Hh—!" Air vanished.
My back hit the cold marble pillar, and his fingers tightened—hard enough to bruise, hard enough to remind me he wasn't human.
He wasn't my brother. He only wore my brother's face.
The Devil's eyes burned red in the moonlit hall as he snarled, "I gave you ONE TASK, Sirella. One simple task—"His grip tightened; my vision blurred"—and you FAILED."
I clawed at his wrist, choking, gasping.
He leaned closer, breath cold against my cheek.
"And now…" His voice dropped to a whisper dripping with venom. "…he has awakened his powers."
Despite the pain in my throat—despite the suffocating grip—a smirk curled on my lips.
"That means…" I rasped, "…your end is—"
SLAP.
White exploded across my vision as my head snapped to the side.
"You bitch."
His voice wasn't loud. It didn't have to be.
