The Devil's Claim... His little mouse. のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 111 - チャプター 118

When an unintended sigh slipped past her lips, it only seemed to fuel the fire already burning in Dallion’s touch. His grip on her tightened, his heart beating steadily, his eyes alive with something dark and dangerous. His control was slipping, and he knew it. Without another word, his teeth extended, sharp and eager. "I need a taste," he murmured, his voice rough with hunger. Before Sherryl could react, Dallion sank his teeth into the side of her neck. Her skin was —warm, rich, intoxicating, it was sweeter than anything he had ever tasted. It made him wonder if it was because of who she was, something about her making it more potent, more addictive. It was like drinking from something rare, something otherworldly. Dallion never cared for attachments, never let himself be bound to anyone. He had always been clear about that. Women came and went, serving a purpose but never staying long enough to matter. But ever since he had laid eyes on her, everything else had become meaningle

Feeling the soft mattress under the palm of her hands, she sighed. No slave would have the luxury she was having right now. She wasn't an idiot to not understand. While many girls trapped in the underworld trade were mistreated, her life was far better. It only made her question if she was really a slave. Then again, Dallion had threatened her long ago that he would hunt and find her if she were to ever run away from him—but was that really necessary? She was an average woman, where he was a man carved out of the Cross empire's deadliest bloodline. Some of the girls would consider themselves to be lucky. To have caught the eye of a kingpin from the higher society, as they would have the fortune of living like a queen. Then there was another kind who called it a curse, women who hated and feared the entire existence of men like him. Sherryl Rain didn't belong in any of them. Her initial plan of escaping had been washed away with the reveal of her being the daughter of a wanted spy

Rose had been warned—and it wasn’t the first time the warning had come down hard on her. Again and again, she had mocked it. Taunted. Dismissed. And now, she had no one to blame but herself. “Would you be kind enough to get the ropes from the attic room,” Dallion said coldly to his sister. Grace Cross—the eldest daughter—stood unsure for a second. Should she wait? Should someone else speak up? But silence pressed down like a loaded pistol on the back of her neck. No protest came. “Yes,” she finally answered. Grace sitting in the chair—cast a final look at the trembling girl and then turned away, her heels echoing down the corridor as she headed toward the attic. Rose looked up at Dallion, eyes wide in alarm. “What are you planning to do?” she asked, her voice cracking just slightly. As Grace Cross walked toward the attic, a weight settled over her chest. She wasn’t stupid—she knew what was about to happen. And yet, no one—not even she—had expected it to escalate like this

Today the dining room was quiet, not the kind of quiet that soothed anyone but the kind of guilt that scraped against the walls of cross empire.Dallion pulled the chair beside his,tapped it once, and Sheryl sat, this time it wasnot on the cold marble floor she was used to,but beside him, where dignity still dared to breathe.Grace lowered her gaze.His stepmother stirred her glass too long.And his father... just watched,like a man too tired to show his cruelty.Only Rosie’s seat sat empty. She didn't show up for breakfast .Sheryl’s arms were covered in scars that were in deep red, the doctor had given her ointment and was sure it would work pretty fast on her skin.Still, Dallion could feel her stiffness,like she was waiting for a command.Or a slap.Dallion didn't bother with anyone else at the table, he kept giving meals to Sheryl and keenly watched her eat just like his little muse.After her last bite, he rose.She followed without being told.Down the hall, past the p