I won't fall for the queen who burned my world-Chapter 118: Need air

Malvoria exhaled sharply as she ran a hand through her damp red hair, trying to gather her thoughts.

Her body was still humming, the aftermath of what had just happened clinging to her like a second skin.

The steam in the room had done nothing to clear her head; if anything, it had only made things more intoxicating.

Damn that servant.

If they hadn't knocked, announcing that the teleportation portal was finally ready, she and Elysia might still be tangled together, lost in each other for gods knew how long.

Malvoria had too much stamina—a fact she had no problem with until now. She had never quite struggled with self-control before.

Yet here she was, getting dressed quickly as if doing so would wipe the memory of everything from her mind.

It wouldn't.

Her skin still burned with the sensation of Elysia's touch. Her lips still tingled from the heated kisses they had shared. And her mind? Her mind was spinning, trying to categorize what exactly had just happened.

Was it simply desire?

That was the logical answer.

But it had felt like more than that.

It had felt different.

She scowled at herself, fastening the last button on her black coat before stepping away from the vanity mirror. No—this was not the time to be overthinking. She had things to do.

Focus.

Her sharp gaze flickered toward the bathroom door where Elysia was still inside, probably taking her time as if she weren't the cause of Malvoria's current distraction.

Wife or not, she's insufferable, Malvoria thought, though there was no true bite behind it.

She needed air.

Without another thought, Malvoria strode out of the room, letting the heavy door click shut behind her as she stepped into the hallway.

The cool air was a stark contrast to the heat that still lingered on her skin.

Good.

She needed to cool down.

She folded her arms and leaned against the wall just outside the door, exhaling slowly. She would wait here for Elysia—calm, composed, collected.

Yes.

That was the plan.

Except—

The moment the door opened and Elysia stepped out, looking too refreshed, too satisfied, too aware of the effect she had just had on Malvoria—

Malvoria knew she was doomed.

Malvoria took a slow, measured breath, schooling her features into something resembling calm. The air outside the chamber was cooler than the steamy heat she had just left behind, but it did little to ease the lingering fire under her skin.

She folded her arms, pushing away every intrusive thought about the past hour—how Elysia had felt, how she had moved, how she had whispered Malvoria's name with a voice that had done things to her self-control.

Focus.

She was the Demon Queen. She would not let herself become some love-struck fool over her own wife.

Right?

The door behind her remained closed, leaving Malvoria standing in silence in the corridor. She tapped her fingers against her arm, half-contemplating whether to wait patiently or just storm back in and drag Elysia out herself—

Then, she felt it.

A presence.

Malvoria's instincts sharpened immediately, her posture shifting as her gaze flicked down the hall. Someone was approaching—slow, measured steps that carried the weight of someone thinking.

Thalor.

Her blue-eyed father-in-law had that ever-calculating, watchful look about him, as if he were already putting together a puzzle before even seeing the pieces.

He wasn't alone—there were a few demon guards lingering in the distance, watching cautiously—but Thalor himself moved forward alone, his regal posture effortless despite the tension rolling off of him in waves.

Malvoria tensed.

It wasn't that she feared him.

But she knew that Thalor was not just any king—he was the ruler of a powerful nation, a man of strategy, of war, of deep-rooted familial instincts. And right now, he was looking at her with far too much suspicion.

Malvoria straightened, allowing a slow, deliberate smirk to curve her lips.

"Come to check on your daughter?" she drawled.

Thalor's sharp golden eyes met hers without hesitation. "Naturally."

A tense pause.

Then—

He glanced toward the door.

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Malvoria didn't move from her spot, blocking the entrance in a way that was both casual and deliberate.

Thalor noticed.

His gaze flickered back to her, and something in his expression shifted—his suspicion deepened, as if he could smell the lingering heat in the air, as if he sensed that whatever had transpired between Malvoria and Elysia was not something a father should be walking in on.

Malvoria didn't blink.

Thalor's gaze narrowed slightly.

He knew.

Not the details—thank the gods—but he knew enough.

He took a slow breath, his sharp gaze assessing everything in an instant—the way Malvoria's coat was just slightly misaligned, the faint remnants of dampness in her red hair, the undeniable fact that she was standing outside Elysia's room as if guarding it.

A long silence stretched between them.

Then, slowly—

Thalor exhaled.

He did not speak.

He did not accuse.

Instead, with the poise of a very tired man who had likely seen enough for a lifetime, he turned on his heel and started walking away.

Malvoria raised a brow. "That's it?"

Thalor didn't stop. "I suddenly remembered I have something more important to do."

"Liar," Malvoria smirked.

He ignored her.

And just like that, he was gone.

Malvoria huffed a quiet chuckle to herself, shaking her head.

Smart man.

He knew better than to stay.

Malvoria watched Thalor's retreating figure, the way he carried himself with calculated ease, as if he hadn't just walked into a situation he very much wanted to avoid.

Smart.

He had taken one look at the atmosphere, at the way Malvoria was standing guard outside Elysia's door, and decided—without a single word—that whatever conversation he wanted to have with his daughter could wait.

Malvoria smirked to herself.

Not many people knew when to walk away from her, but Thalor? He had mastered the art of self-preservation.

She leaned back against the door with a sigh, running a hand through her hair.

A part of her had expected an argument—perhaps some overprotective fatherly speech about boundaries or respect or whatever nonsense humans liked to preach.

But no.

Thalor had taken one glance, read the room, and promptly evacuated himself.

Good decision.

Malvoria chuckled under her breath, shaking her head.

It was almost a shame.

She had been looking forward to ruffling his feathers a little.

Oh well.

She turned her attention back to the door, crossing her arms.

Now, she just had to wait for Elysia to be ready.