The moment Ariel's dagger missed its mark, she knew she had made a mistake.
But it was too late to stop.
Her nails raked across his cheek, tearing through smooth, flawless skin. A thin trail of blood beaded along the scratch—barely a wound, but enough to mark him.
Enough to make him pause.
For a heartbeat, the entire chamber froze.
The Saya stopped breathing. Kyla's smirk twitched. Even Kathleen, still crumpled on the ground, let out a faint gasp.
Ariel didn't hesitate. She reached for another attack, ready to claw him again—
But she never got the chance.
His hand was on her throat.
Cold. Unrelenting.
In an instant, her feet left the ground.
She choked as he lifted her effortlessly, his fingers tightening, pressing against her windpipe.
The dagger clattered to the floor.
Ariel clawed at his wrist, gasping, kicking, struggling—but he didn't even flinch.
The Devil's golden eyes burned into her, not with fury, not with rage—but something darker.
Something cruel.
