Rosalia — POV
Ah... what Cecil didn’t know was that his so-called good brother—that very man—had long since abandoned any intention of offering rcy.
Especially not toward that despicable family.
If anything, the charity Cecil believed still existed had already rotted away, consud by resentnt, betrayal, and blood that could never be washed clean.
After everyone finally reached an agreent, they decided to give the n a few hours to prepare before setting out once more. Weapons were checked, supplies counted, routes redrawn on worn maps.
The camp fell into a restless, uneasy silence—one filled with the distant sounds of sharpening steel and murmured conversations.
That was when Cassel cornered against the wall of the room.
There was no warning.
One mont, I was turning away, my thoughts still tangled in the earlier discussion, and the next, my back hit cold stone.
Hard.
The impact knocked the breath from my lungs.
Cassel’s arm slamd down beside my head, caging in completely. His presence swallowed the space between us, heavy and oppressive, like a storm cloud ready to burst.
"Is it fun to provoke ?" he asked quietly.
Then, softer—dangerously so—
"Hmm?"
Oh God.
I had truly believed my little ga hadn’t affected him.
That he had seen through it and dismissed it as nothing more than a harmless distraction.
But now—now, as he pressed firmly against the unforgiving wall, as his shadow lood over —my lashes trembled violently despite my effort to stay composed.
Dear heavens...
Did I just light a fire I couldn’t put out?
Every muscle in Cassel’s body was drawn tight, tension rippling beneath his clothes as if he were barely holding himself back. His jaw was clenched, veins faintly visible along his neck, his breath slow but heavy—controlled in a way that made it far more frightening.
And my traitorous eyes—
They noticed everything.
Oh.
Perhaps Cassel noticed how long my gaze lingered, how my attention slipped despite myself, because his lips curved—not into a smile, but into sothing sharper.
Sothing knowing.
"Do you want to touch it that badly?" he drawled.
Touch it?
Touch what?
Wh—
Before I could form the question—before I could even think—my wrist was seized. His grip was firm, unyielding, and he forced my hand open.
Then pushed it downward.
A sudden heat flared beneath my palm.
My mind exploded.
My breath hitched so violently it hurt, and my fingers trembled against my will, every thought scattering into chaos.
"Cas—Cae... y-you pervert... you—!"
The words died in my throat.
I couldn’t finish the sentence. Couldn’t even breathe properly.
Cassel watched with unmistakable satisfaction, his eyes darkening as my reaction unfolded exactly as he expected.
I was frozen.
Paralyzed by shock. By confusion. By the overwhelming awareness of how close he was—how aware he was of .
I must have looked ridiculous.
Like soone who had been caught red-handed and forced into sothing scandalous, my face burning, my breathing uneven, my entire body stiff with conflicting emotions.
A wicked gleam flickered through Cassel’s eyes—one I hadn’t seen before. Or perhaps one I had refused to acknowledge until now.
Then, deliberately, he shifted my hand slightly.
The heat beneath my palm intensified—not painful, but impossible to ignore.
I tried to pull away.
Cassel tightened his grip instantly, stopping with ease.
I glared up at him, anger and humiliation boiling together as his face moved closer—close enough that I could feel his breath brush against my skin.
"Rosalia," he murmured.
His voice dropped lower.
"What do you think you’re holding?"
What am I holding?
This shaless bastard actually dared to ask.
I refused to answer, focusing all my strength on trying to wrench my hand free.
"Rosalia," he continued softly, almost coaxing, "tell . What are you thinking about right now? Hmm?"
His voice was dangerous.
Not loud. Not forceful.
But smooth—like sothing ant to pull you toward sins you knew you shouldn’t commit.
My heart pounded so hard I was sure he could feel it.
For a terrifying mont, I almost answered him.
"That... that... that—"
I couldn’t say it.
I dropped my head sharply, staring at the floor as if it might swallow whole.
Anything was better than eting those eyes.
Then—
I heard it.
Cassel was laughing.
Not a smirk.
Not a quiet chuckle.
A real laugh.
Warm. Genuine. Completely unguarded.
It stunned so much that I looked up without thinking.
This was only the second ti I had ever seen him laugh like that.
For a few seconds, I could only stare, mouth slightly open, my heart skipping in a way that made no sense.
Panic struck imdiately after, and I turned my head away, mortified.
If I kept looking, I was certain I’d embarrass myself further.
Cassel laughed a little longer before speaking again.
"Rosalia," he said slowly, almost fondly,
"You’re adorable."
Adorable, my foot.
I shot him an indignant glare, my pride finally clawing its way back.
It looked like he was about to say sothing else when—
"Boss."
Henry’s voice cut through the mont from outside the door.
"Everything’s ready. All that’s left is for you to deal with the man we rescued."
At the sa ti, the doorknob began to turn.
My blood ran cold.
If Henry opened the door and saw us like this—
Pinned.
Flushed.
My hand trapped against Cassel’s body—
I would never recover from the humiliation.
Never.
I struggled again, glaring at Cassel with raw panic.
"Cassel," I whispered urgently, "let go. Let go."
But he didn’t.
Only when my fury reached its limit did he lean close to my ear, his breath warm against my skin as he whispered:
"Look carefully, Rosalia."
My heart nearly stopped.
"And tell ," he continued softly, almost teasing,
"What exactly is your hand holding right now?"
My mind shattered.
He still wanted to look?
This man—
Shaless.
Absolutely shaless.
I squeezed my eyes shut, refusing, but he didn’t stop. He repeated himself—quietly, insistently—until my resistance crumbled.
"Just one glance," he murmured.
"Look... and I’ll let you go."
I was certain he was a demon wearing a human face.
Otherwise —
Why would I do exactly as he said?
When I finally opened my eyes and lowered my gaze—
I froze.
...
The realization hit like a lightning strike.
"...What...?"
Cassel released my hand at last.
I stumbled back a step, mortified beyond words, my face burning hotter than before.
Behind , Cassel laughed again—low and satisfied.
And this ti, I knew without a doubt—
He had done it on purpose.
Reviews
All reviews (0)