Initially, she had expected her pendant to use clear violence, simply because of interest in the boy—which ca out to be true—but this reaction she just caught a mont ago was too exhilarating, especially knowing how that weak self of hers was trembling.
Seeing her—the perfect version—completely in control, unlike that pathetic self, just gave her motivation to get even more reactions from that pendant.
"What if I reject?" Cruxius replied, glancing towards Lira, who was in her maid dress, walking with pink hair, clearly looking around for so escape. Yet, she was fearful—given her past life mory, she recognized this woman as a vampire—though not completely sure about this woman’s identity.
But this place and the vibe she gave off were that of vampires, whom she had seen while being together with Cruxius.
Normally, he had seen them as assassins coming for his life. But today, for the first ti, he was seeing Cruxius following behind a single woman of that race like this. While he naturally, in his drunk state, used to tell how he hated this race.
"Then I will kill both of them—hah? Is she still exhausted after last night’s things you did to her?" Evangeline, who was talking about Itreasia and Lira, turned towards him and suddenly halted, noticing that Itreasia was still not here—most probably completely exhausted after what she had gone through all night while being under the clairvoyance of Evangeline, who was trying to see the intentions of this man, who naturally just wanted to fulfill his lustful desires by using that woman.
"First yes and second..." Cruxius stated as his eyes turned cold, halting as looking towards Evangeline, who just gave a glance, clearly blinking yet in a firm voice, he warned her, firmly declaring, "Don’t ever again try to use my won against ."
His voice was firm but he gave his standing clear that if she were to again threaten him at the na of the woman whom he had called his, then things would not end good for her. Even though he was weak and cannot harm her in this mont, but naturally there was nothing he feared about her. Death cannot touch him.
And it’s natural that the thing that cannot kill him would eventually make him stronger.
Evangeline didn’t respond imdiately. A subtle curve appeared on her lips, not a smile but sothing darker—curiosity, perhaps.
She didn’t deny or affirm his warning but simply walked ahead, leaving a silence behind as if acknowledging the line drawn, only to cross it later when needed.
Cruxius followed, hands still in his pockets, gaze roaming. The corridors turned narrower, the scent of tal and faint ozone replacing the earlier rich incense.
Even Lira slowed down, her steps now hesitant, realizing they were approaching sothing important.
Soon, a circular door slid open without any chanical noise. The mont they stepped in, the room lit up not by chandeliers or lamps, but with cold, dim glows of hovering black panels—dozens of them—floating in air like silent witnesses.
The walls were bare, only reflective enough to echo every presence twice. In the center, a mild pulse beat in intervals, and from the hovering screens, faint static flickered.
Then, the room ca alive.
One by one, the panels blinked, projecting holographic faces—so old, so alien, so hidden in shadows—each voice almost overlapping the other in distorted unison.
"Is he even eligible to be a flag bearer?"
"Such disgrace. A human?"
"Queen, have you lost your judgnt?"
"How can soone like him be chosen?"
"Was this a joke or defiance?"
"Who gave you permission to declare such na?"
The air trembled with their collective contempt.
But Evangeline stood calmly in the middle, the only real figure amidst all the projections. Her hair fluttered lightly as the static grew stronger. She didn’t wait for them to end.
"I choose him," she said simply, her voice echoing not just once but with deliberate amplification, layered with her will, not power.
It silenced many, though not all.
"You dare undermine the Council with such recklessness?" One of the figures—a male with a silvery crest on his robe, most likely the Queen’s own brother—rose from his holographic projection, his voice sharper, filled with restrained anger. "This is not a ga you are playing, sister—"
But he couldn’t finish.
Crack—crash—!
Every single screen burst apart with a low-pitched sonic hum, the projections distorting into black shards of digital static before disappearing entirely. Silence rang louder than any protest.
Cruxius stood with one hand half-raised, not with power summoned but with presence that needed no magic.
"Mind your language," he said, without looking at the spot where the voice had co from, his voice calm, sharp, and steady, "especially in front of her."
There was no threat. There was no anger. Just a line he drew, the sa way Evangeline had earlier—and just like her, he fully intended to cross it when needed.
Evangeline turned slightly, her expression unreadable, but the slight twitch near the edge of her mouth betrayed a reaction. Not irritation... sothing else. Amusent? Approval? Perhaps both.
She looked at the scattered remains of the burst projections for a mont, before turning her eyes to him again.
"Why did you do that?" Evangeline finally asked, voice plain, almost lazy—but the undertone carried that familiar edge of subtle probing.
Cruxius didn’t glance at her, his gaze still lingering on the faint static that clung to the air.
"Because they were being too much with you," he replied, simple, direct—yet not the kind of words one would expect from him, especially not with that unwavering look in his eyes.
"They can’t do anything except yell," she said, her tone equally steady, as if dismissing the event entirely. "That’s the most they can do. Nothing more. Nothing less."
"Then they shouldn’t be yelling at you in the first place," Cruxius said, turning now, facing her fully as he took a step closer, his voice still low but pointed.
Evangeline chuckled lightly, her breath barely escaping her lips, shaking her head slightly as if amused by sothing absurd. "It doesn’t matter how a dog barks, right?"
"Yes," Cruxius nodded faintly, voice calm again, "it doesn’t. But even a dog has to realize when it’s barking at the wrong door—especially when that door belongs to my woman."
Her brows twitched.
A slow, deliberate exhale escaped her lips as she tilted her head ever so slightly, the pendant in her hand still humming with faint resonance.
"Stop declaring everything yours," she said, finally eting his eyes. "Not I am your woman, nor sothing you can claim to have."
The air between them shifted slightly, charged yet not hostile.
Cruxius looked at her, unflinching. His eyes carried sothing that wasn’t arrogance, nor desire, nor even obsession. It was... presence. A steady belief that didn’t need her permission to exist.
"I never claid anything," he said at last. "I just see what already is."
Her fingers moved first.
They slid across the mattress in a lazy, uncoordinated stretch, reaching out for the solid heat she rembered. She chased the phantom weight of his chest, the wrap of his arms, and the thick, filling presence of him still buried deep inside her from the night before.
But her fingertips brushed nothing.
Only bare, chilling linen.
No rhythmic rise and fall of breath beside her.
No radiating heat.
No heartbeat to soothe her own.
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