A year to love the devil
“So this is it? You own me now?”
Azrael took a step forward, his presence suffocating and magnetic all at once. “No. I claimed you. There's a difference, Mrs Azrael,”
He extended a goblet toward me, filled with a dark red liquid. Not wine. Not blood. Something in-between.
“To new beginnings,” he said.
I didn’t take it. I stared at the goblet, then at him. “You saved me to bind me.”
“I saved you Yasmine and come on, we had a deal, I save you and in return you love me,” he said calmly,
Bab Populer