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... birth.

In the northern part of the Mayan, in the cold purple palace, a thin back is facing the wall, sitting straight, closing his eyes, and his long silver hair is vertical and down, because the hair is very long and the hair ends are scattered on the ground.

He stayed there for half a day, but he didn't move. If it weren't the slight undulating breath in his chest, it proved that this was a living person, and almost people thought it was just a sculpture.

At this time, the ...

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Astronaut Liu Peiqiang: “The sun is about to explode! Who will help me if I give out 200 points~”

“Enlarge the flashlight, shrink the Earth, or shrink the sun and throw it away~”

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“I have a bold idea!”

“+1”

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It's simple. A vengeful wildfire of a woman. A tyrant who begs to be burned.When Aria crashes into Kael’s empire, hellbent on making him pay for taking her job away, she’s met not with defiance—but a dare. “You want revenge?” he taunts, voice dripping with dark invitation.“Then ruin me. Take your pound of flesh exactly where it hurts.” His proposition is a trap laced with sin: As expected he calls the shots in his bed, her contempt is his twisted aphrodisiac.“Hate me until your hands shake,” he growls. “But do it on top of me, where I can watch you savor every cut.”Their arrangement is a collision of dominance and delirium. Aria wields her fury like a blade, determined to break him. Kael? He thrives under her wrath, goading her darker, deeper, hungrier.But vengeance turns slippery when every command she hisses ignites his obedience, and every cold glare melts into bruising kisses. Soon, the bed becomes a battleground—her nails carving victory into his skin, his whispers a serpent’s promise: “Chain me with your rage, darling. I’ll still come back for more.”The rules are simple: No mercy. No surrender. But as their games spiral into something ravenous, who’s destroying whom? And when hatred burns this hot, what’s left when the ashes cool?