Cassel — POV
"We take watches in shifts—two to a team, three hours on.
"Understood, Boss."
"Got it."
"Boss, here’s your al."
"Thanks."
...Her cheeks are still red?
What a weird girl.
I almost sighed out loud.
At least she seems to fit in with the team.
As I watched Rosalia laugh with Liz and Frederick and the rest, I felt a rare flicker of ease. They treated her like one of their own, sharing food and jokes and quiet smiles around the fire, like she’d always belonged.
She’s a tough girl. In so ways, she had managed to win everyone’s favor in record ti.
It’s good she’s building bonds with my n. When the ti cos to separate from the rest, they’ll accept her with less resistance.
Not that I doubt my ability to command them-but still... I want her to feel comfortable. Safe. Connected.
Unlike the father and son who sat in the corner, swallowed up by the dark.
Since whatever happened between them and Rosalia happened—and since I didn’t intervene—everyone’s been shunning them. Publicly. With abandon.
Without my protection, no one cares if they live or die.
How ironic.
In my past life, I treated that family like royalty. Like kin.
Not out of love, but because I was under control.
Still, I gave them everything: my support, my strength, my years of hard work.
And what did I get in return?
Traición.
Deceit.
A knife in my back.
That family sucked every drop of goodness from my life. They destroyed everything I built—and in the end, they even took my life itself.
This ti, I didn’t sever the relationship with them imdiately after I threw off my chains.
All because I want to play with them first.
I won’t let them die a peaceful death.
They’ll be begging for death before I’m done.
They’ll choke on their guilt, drown in their regrets.
They are to atone for every wrong-
for my mother’s life, for mine,
thirty years of servitude and silence.
Thirty years of living while already dead.
And the one behind it all—the hand that moved the strings, the shadow that birthed those cursed chains—
Their punishnt will be worse.
Even without proof.
Even without a na.
I swear—
Not even gods or devils will escape the storm of my wrath.
Whoever you are... You created a monster.
A monster that cannot be controlled any longer.
A monster that will haunt your dreams until you wake screaming.
A monster you’ll regret ever trying to control.
And you will die by its hands.
...
"Little bunny, isn’t that all you will eat?"
Even from a distance, I caught every word.
My sharpened senses picked up every word of their conversation, even from a distance.
Rosalia sat amidst the group, her smile bright within the poor light of the campfire. Liz, Henry, and the rest were laughing with her, yet oblivious to how their laughter made sothing inside ache.
"Co on, little bunny," Henry teased, leaning in close with a fox-like grin.
"How about this, Do a cute rabbit moves for us, and I’ll give you a carrot. What do you think?"
Rosalia let go, her face a mask of disgust—but my blood simred.
I didn’t like how he was leaning in. Or how close he was.
I didn’t know if it was jealousy or possessiveness or sothing darker, but the urge to intervene clawed at my chest.
Henry chuckled, reaching for her bag—the one he’d stolen earlier.
"Or do you want this back instead? It’s full of snacks, right?"
Her voice rose sharp and furious.
"Give it back! It wasn’t yours to take in the first place!"
He grinned, lifting the bag above her head, taunting. "Then whose is it, hmm? Don’t tell it belonged to your ex-boyfriend?"
"Give it back you stupid fox! I told you I don’t have a boyfriend!"
"Then how about this, if you agree to be my girlfriend, I’ll believe you, fair enough?
The others laughed.
Rosalia’s face flushed scarlet.
But I wasn’t laughing.
Henry had not ant it; I knew that. For him, she was but a little sister.
But still—
The thought of her looking at another with those red cheeks made my heart twist.
My jaw was clenched. I almost found myself ready to step in and end their exchange.
I was only seconds away from stepping in.
Besides. she once said that if anyone had the right to take her bag, it would be .
Which ans-whatever she’s concealing inside... might have been ant for .
Snacks and clothes... even those small details matched my tastes.
Coincidence? No. I don’t believe in those anymore.
But all I could muster before another thing cut through my mind was
A sudden violent upsurge of energy.
I froze.
It was Liz.
She sat still, smiling faintly, her eyes on the playful pair.
But beneath that smile, sothing ugly churned.
Dark.
Distorted.
The air itself shimmied around her.
Nobody else noticed it.
The laughter, the teasing-it all drowned the warning hum.
None of them could feel it.
None of them had the powers I did. "Damn it," I hissed, shoving off the ground.
The world blurred as I shot forward, faster than sound, faster than thought.
Then— A thunderous boom rent the night.
The explosion shattered the laughter, sending the camp into chaos.
Rosalia and the rest disappeared into a wave of smoke and fire.
Flas erupted where they sat-wild, hungry, blue-tipped infernos clawing at the sky. The heat hit like a brick wall.
This wasn’t the usual blast. It burned too fast, too clean. No gas leak could do this. And it didn’t stop.
The fire grew, its color deepening from crimson to blue to sothing almost white.
Energy rippled in the air, alive, violent, wrong.
"ROSALIA!"
My voice tore from my throat as I lunged into the blaze.
The ground shook beneath his feet.
Screams filled the air: n, fire, and panic.
And in it all— a faint, almost inhuman laughter whispered through the flas.
Liz’s.
Her form danced with shadows in the turmoil, her eyes dimly shining, lips shaped in a distorted grin.
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