Late at night, the sky was a vast sheet of darkness, split open every few minutes by streaks of blinding lightning. The atmosphere was chillingly cold, heavy with the promise that rain would soon break loose. Each flash of lightning briefly revealed the outline of a luxurious mansion standing alone like a silent witness to the horrors within.
Inside, a family of five knelt on the marble floor, trembling violently. Terror gripped their throats, stealing their voices and freezing their souls.
A few meters before them lounged a devilishly handsome man with short black hair, seated with the ease and authority of a reigning monarch. His eyes—scary, glowing crimson—held a deadly calmness. His expression showed not a trace of sympathy. His gaze swept across the family as though measuring the remaining hours of their lives.
"How peacefully would you prefer your life to end?" his cold voice echoed, turning the suffocating atmosphere into something even deadlier.
"Please… please pardon us," the man who appeared to be the head of the family stuttered. Sweat drenched his forehead despite the freezing temperature. He struggled to breathe under the weight of the terrifying presence before him. "We… w-we will never repeat such a mistake again, never..never again, pardon us please!"
"Pardon you?" the handsome stranger chuckled darkly. His laughter was the sound of death itself—chilling, heart-shaking, and fatal. It was the kind of sound that made anyone believe their life had reached its end.
"Eighteen years ago, I entrusted my Queen to you," he continued, his tone dropping lower. "Seeing how miserable and poverty-stricken you were, I didn't want her to suffer hardship. I bestowed upon you endless wealth. But for eighteen years, you dared forget that you were nothing more than her servants?"
His crimson eyes sharpened, turning even more murderous. "How you treated her all these years—shouldn't such kindness be rewarded?"
"We… we were blinded by greed," the man cried, his heartbeat racing uncontrollably. "Please… please spare us!"
"Blinded by greed?" he repeated, an icy smile curving his lips. "The human heart is always filled with greed. Don't insult me with excuses. And yet, I had hoped— foolishly—that you might possess even a shred of loyalty." His voice rose sharply. "Because of you, she grew delicate… fragile… like a human easy to bully!"
As his enraged shout filled the room, a thick, metallic smell drifted forth. Following the scent, the family saw the lifeless body of their son sprawled on the floor—headless.
A silent scream tore through their hearts. Tears streamed down their faces, but none dared raise their voice. Their son had died in an instant—without warning, without mercy, he didn't even have the chance to beg for his life.
The devilish man's eyes burned with bloodthirst. His fury intensified until the room itself felt like a tomb.
"I've played with you enough." He rose to his feet, a murderous aura erupting around him. His gaze was merciless—pure, unfiltered destruction.
"Wait patiently for my final judgment… in hell."
Before any of them could gasp, plead, or scream, their bodies slumped to the floor—lifeless, blood pooling beneath them.
Silence returned, broken only by the distant rumble of thunder.
He stepped forward once, and his figure vanished, leaving not even the scent of his presence behind. Moments later, heavy rain crashed down upon the dark world, washing away the night with violent force.
---
The Next Morning
At dawn, light spilled gently across a different mansion—far larger, brighter, and majestically. The previous night's blood-stained house was gone, erased along with its dark memories.
This new mansion rose like a palace: towering pillars, crystal-lined windows, gleaming gold accents, and sprawling gardens touched by morning mist. Everything about it felt purified, renewed, and breathtaking—fit for royalty.
A blonde-haired maid with two small dragon-like horns approached the staircase. Her posture was straight, her expression serene. She walked toward a particular bedroom on the upper floor. Upon arriving, she knocked twice and spoke gently.
"Good morning, Your Royal Highness. Breakfast is prepared."
Inside, a peerless beauty lay curled under the blanket, breathing softly in deep sleep. She did not stir at the maid's call. Just as the maid lifted her hand to knock again, a devilishly handsome figure appeared beside her like a shadow taking form.
"Welcome, Your Majesty," the maid greeted at once, bowing deeply.
"We're in the human world now," Devon's cold voice resonated. "Ensure you behave like one. I don't want you frightening my Queen."
"Yes, young master," she adjusted her words immediately, bowing lower.
Devon nodded lightly. "Bring her breakfast."
"Yes, young master." With another respectful bow, she left quickly.
Devon vanished and reappeared inside the bedroom. The moment his gaze fell upon the sleeping beauty, every trace of his cold aura slipped away. His crimson eyes softened, turning warm—almost gentle.
He approached slowly and brushed his fingers through her long, silky black hair, which fanned across the pillow like dark lotus petals. A faint smile touched his lips. He leaned down and pressed a tender kiss to her forehead.
"Thank the heavens your scars have healed," he whispered in thought. "I don't want anything reminding you of your sinful past. It was my fault for entrusting you to the wrong hands."
As if hearing his emotions, the young woman stirred. Her long lashes fluttered, revealing eyes as clear and innocent as a calm spring.
"Devon…" she breathed gently, her voice soft with kindness.
"You're awake," Devon murmured, his features brightening. He assisted her gently until she sat upright.
A knock sounded at the door. Devon crossed the room and opened it, finding the blonde maid holding a tray of delicately arranged dishes.
"Young master," she greeted, offering the tray with a bow.
Devon accepted it with a nod and dismissed her with a single glance. Closing the door, he returned to his Queen. "Breakfast is ready."
The beautiful lady gazed at him for a moment before a warm smile spread across her face. "If this is a dream, I never want to wake up," she thought.
"You're well awake," Devon whispered charmingly. "Not a dream."
Her cheeks flushed, and she lowered her gaze, letting her hair fall forward to hide her embarrassment. "How does he always read my mind so easily…?"
Devon chuckled softly and patted her head.
"I… I'll go freshen up first," she murmured, then rushed into the bathroom.
Devon watched her with a faint smile. But as soon as the door closed, the warmth faded. "Good thing I returned in time," he muttered. "A simple death was too light for those foolish humans."
Minutes later, the lady stepped out of the bathroom with only a bath towel wrapped around her body, her face flushed pink. She avoided looking directly at Devon.
"Should I try what Mira taught me?" she panicked internally. "What if he gets upset? I don't want him angry…"
Devon's soft laugh broke her thoughts. He stood and approached her, pulling her gently into his embrace. "Did my Queen have something to ask?"
"I… I…" she swallowed hard. "I have a question."
"Anything for my Queen," Devon encouraged.
Her fingers trembled. "Promise first… that you won't get mad at me."
"How could I be angry with my beautiful Queen?" he reassured. "Ask freely. I'll give you the best answer."
Relief washed over her, though nervousness lingered. After gathering her courage, she finally whispered, "The maids… have horns. I… I want to know if you have them too."
Devon laughed softly—this time gentle, harmless, and alluring. She forgot to breathe for a moment.
"Breathe," he murmured, gently blowing against her eyes.
She blinked rapidly and exhaled in relief. "Even though that's not what I want to ask but at least this didn't make him angry" she thought in relief.
"Yes," Devon replied with a nod. "I've never revealed it because I didn't want to frighten you. But I won't hide who I am. That's why I permit the maids to keep theirs visible."
Her eyes widened with childlike excitement. "Re… really?" A glowing smile bloomed on her face.
"Really," he confirmed, kissing her cheek.
"Can… can I see?"
Devon paused, studying her expression.
"I'm… I'm sorry," she whimpered immediately, tears pooling in her eyes.
Devon sighed. "You're frightened even before I show you my horns," he murmured, brushing away her tears with gentle thumbs.
"I thought you were angry," she confessed, sobbing softly. "I'm not scared of anything… except making you mad."
He wrapped his arms around her tightly. "I'll never be angry with my Queen. You are my everything."
She lifted her wet eyes. "Can… can I do something?"
"You never need permission from anyone," Devon declared tenderly. "Not even from me. You are free to do whatever you desire."
Her lips curled into the happiest smile. She rose on her toes and planted a quick kiss on his lips. "T-That's what I wanted to do."
Devon froze in shock. "This… Is this finally the full breakthrough?" He stared at her flushed face—red like ripe tomatoes.
"I… I—" she began nervously.
But he silenced her at once, capturing her lips in a deep, consuming kiss.