Chapter • 23

♱ •⋅ 1750 B.C. ⋅• ♱

A few hours were needed until finally Asmodeus had stopped his tantrum. He had really felt the idea of being let go, but what would everyone say if they knew that the much-feared prince of lust was just a whining baby who hates feeling left out or abandoned.

It was comical.

The more time I spent in the world of that novel, the more comical I felt each of the characters were.

Of course, there were exceptions - like Azrael, who now looked at me with such hatred that I even wondered if Asra had not stabbed him or done something worse before I could reincarnate.

Had she killed his mother? Had she caused his downfall? It still didn’t make sense. Azrael’s hatred seemed too much, it seemed destined for me. Not Asra, not the phoenix who lived "peacefully" as the king’s concubine, but me. The version of Asra who decided to live.

Who decided to act differently.

"What are you thinking?" Asmodeus asked me bringing me back to reality.

"Humm..." I grumbled "I was trying t