All Chapters of Sold to the Devil : Chapter 161 - Chapter 170

Chains groaned with every movement Dante made, his body suspended between twin obsidian pillars deep in the ritual chamber. The air was cold but humming—alive with magic that pulled at his soul like a tide he couldn’t fight. Silver cuffs dug into his wrists, etched with runes that shimmered with sickly green light.He could feel himself fading.A door creaked open. Boots clicked slowly against the black stone floor.Caelum.He strolled in with his usual calculated calm, dark robes unblemished, his posture unhurried.Dante forced his head up, eyes bloodshot. “Why?”Caelum cocked his head slightly, as if surprised by the question. “Why what, Dante?”“You were her father. You were Emilia’s family. Why betray us?”Caelum’s mouth curved into a smile—elegant and hollow. “Because power is cleaner than love. Simpler. More reliable.”Dante’s fists clenched despite the pain. “I trusted you.”“You were naive. Still is.” Caelum stepped closer, gaze flicking to the glowing runes beneath Dante. “Yo

When they all arrived at the throne hall, the sight before them was shocking. Witches.The throne hall reeked of ancient blood and burnt magic.Stone pillars towered into shadow, their surfaces etched with spells too old to name. Torches flickered with unease, casting crooked silhouettes along the walls. The scent of scorched flesh still clung to the air, a reminder of the battle none would forget—and none would dare speak of.Emilia walked through the ruined hall like a shadow, her footsteps silent. Her blackened robes billowed with each stride, scorched at the hems, soaked in blood—some of it hers, most of it not.She did not flinch when the witches knelt. She did not pause when they whispered her new title.“Blood bride…”Her lips curled into a slow, wicked smirk.Not the girl who once feared her own power. Not the girl who stumbled into this world by accident.She was chosen. She was victor.And she would never be weak again.The elder witches stood at the base of the obsidian thr

Word of Emilia’s rise to power as the Blood Bride had spread like wildfire across territories. Whispers and rumors preceded her arrival at the Bloodmoon Clan, twisting awe into unease. By the time their party reached the edge of the clan’s territory, the air itself seemed to stiffen around them.The gates were opened in tense silence. Warriors who once smiled at Dante now averted their eyes. Emilia walked at his side, robed in deep black, a subtle red gleam beneath the fabric. Her crown—formed of bone and blood-forged silver—gleamed in the fading sun. Her gaze was unreadable, sharp as glass.Luka trailed behind them, ever loyal, but his eyes flicked to Emilia more than once, uncertain. This wasn’t the same girl he once teased around campfires or offered spare meat to when she refused to eat.They were escorted to the council chamber by a wary envoy. Dante gave Emilia a soft, questioning glance as they entered. Her expression didn’t change.Inside, the elders were already seated, their

The moon hung low and heavy over the estate, casting silver light over the stone-carved balcony where Emilia stood alone. Her long, dark robes swayed gently in the breeze, the hem brushing against the marble beneath her bare feet. From here, the lands stretched endlessly—forests veiled in mist, mountains etched against the horizon, and the faint flicker of torches far below where the warriors trained under her command.Yet none of it brought her peace.She closed her eyes.The wind whispered, the trees murmured, and deep within her, something stirred. Lana’s voice—her wolf—tried to reach her, tried to soothe the weight pressing on her chest, but the sound was muffled. Drowned beneath louder voices. Darker ones.Power is safety. Fear is respect. Trust no one. Kill before they kill you.The whispers had become constant ever since the crown touched her head. They didn’t scream, but they didn’t stop. They hummed with the rhythm of her heartbeat, fed by every betrayal, every wound, every s

Dante stirred in the half-light of dawn, the space beside him cold and empty.He ran a hand over the crumpled sheets where Emilia had lain just hours ago. The scent of her lingered faintly, but she was gone—again. No note. No sound. Just silence.He sat up slowly, brushing a hand through his hair, the ache in his chest tightening.She’s slipping, Kael murmured, the low voice of his wolf echoing in his thoughts. And you know it.Dante didn’t reply right away. He simply sat there, elbows on his knees, staring at the floor like it might offer an answer.She’s not the same girl we once knew. Not even close.He nodded silently, the weight of truth settling on his shoulders. “I know.”Then we need to do something, Kael pressed. Before she’s lost for good. Maybe the elder witches know what’s happening to her. Maybe they’ve seen this kind of magic before.Dante stood and grabbed his clothes. “They barely tolerate me, Kael. They see me as a threat.”You’re not going for you. You’re going for h