Azalea

Like seriously. I wanted to scream at him and ask—what kind of monster was he? How could someone feel pleasure in a room full of blood and death?

“Mere looking at this beautiful blood art in front of me makes me hard,” he muttered darkly, brushing past my trembling body.

He sat down on the massive throne in the middle of the room like a god studying chaos. His cold blue eyes pinned me in place, freezing me from the inside out. “Come here.”

My legs ...