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... ique sensation.

On the sofa by the stove, Tilan, having just bathed, rested her slightly damp feet near the fire, watching wisps of steam rise like curling smoke while the flames warmed her soles, bringing a slight comforting touch.

Outside the house, the world was piled with snowflakes. It was the end of August, yet the Southern Hemisphere was still in winter, the complete opposite of the north.

After the steam on her feet had evaporated, Tilan withdrew them, putting on ...

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Except:

My eyes brood with fear, gazing at the still-beating heart in his hand. “My Lord, pardon me but… is this the bloody proof you promised to show me?” I asked, my voice shook as I gulped down whilst struggling my trembling knees from giving away.

“Mhm… do you now believe I’m good at capturing hearts?” The silver-haired man, bearing those menacing pair of deep crimson eyes stared proudly at me after a nod. I gasped when he clenched his hand and squeezed the fresh heart to smithereen.

“Yes, milord. You’re good at it, literally.” I’m mortified, watching the pieces of the heart fall as he approached. His every step made me take a step back until my back reached a solid pillar.

“Huh,” Samael chuckled briefly, stopping in front of me. His long, pointy nails that were covered with blood traced my elbow down to my hand. Gently, he clipped my forefinger in between his, guiding it before his lips. “Did I pass your test, though?” He asked, the sharp tip of his nail played over the tip of my finger.

I stared at his penetrating gaze as I reluctantly answered, “Barely.”

He smirked, nodding in satisfaction before he pressed his nail on the tip of my forefinger that was quick to produce a drop of blood. “Such sweet aroma.” He whispered, placing my bleeding finger in his mouth and licked it with passion.

His menacing gaze never left mine as he consumed a bit of my blood. “Does that mean you’re accepting my invitation?” Keeping my finger in between his fangs, Samael inquired.

I bit my lower lip unconsciously, my heart within my chest drummed as my back broke into sweats. “But… I’m just…” I paused, hoping my answer would put an end to this. “… I’m just a human.”

Samael clicked his tongue, displeased at my response as he let my finger go. “No,” He whispered.

My entire body stiffened when he bent over, caressing my shoulder up to my neck by the apex of his nose, as his hot breaths prickled my skin.

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Xiao Ran was the mastermind behind the scenes.

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Zhao Yelan was born as a criminal s*ave and was rescued by the Third Prince. After years of painstaking efforts to put him on the throne, Zhao Yelan became a sycophantic minister whom everyone detested, but he was actually given a marriage by that person to general Yan Mingting, the lone star of Tiansha.

The general caused the death of his father, his mother, his wife, and his dog. Everyone hoped that the general would kill Zhao Yelan as soon as possible.

On the wedding night, Zhao Yelan, who was dressed in red, took out a dagger, his eyes sharp: “What do you want?”

Yan Mingting held his hand tightly, and borrowed his dagger to carve a large character on the head of the bed – – Early.

“You’re weak and frail, get up early every day and practice horse stance with me!”

“?”

The common people thought this marriage was truly wonderful!

They heard that this big minister was beaten every day. He had to repair the roof tiles when the house leaked and also work in the kitchen. He served his husband and was very obedient, and from then on, he didn’t dare condemn people.

Hey, the general was truly mighty!

Zhao Yelan sat lazily by the bed, playing with the dagger, and raised the ends of his eyes slightly: “Where did these rumors come from?”

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