The meal on the tray had cooled long ago, its warmth long faded from the porcelain. Devon glanced at it and exhaled lightly, then turned to the beautiful woman standing quietly beside the bed with flushed face.
"The food has been sitting for an hour now," he remarked, voice soft but firm. "It's no longer healthy. Let me get you something fresh." A warm smile curved his lips as he looked at her.
"I… I'll follow you," the young woman replied, rising immediately, her eagerness evident.
Devon shook his head gently. "My Queen might want to get dressed first," he drawled, teasing. "All this… is meant for my eyes only." His smirk deepened, wicked and knowing.
Her cheeks instantly flushed, and she lowered her gaze, flustered. "Wait—just wait for me. I'll dress up right away," she murmured shyly.
Devon only folded his arms, leaning against the wall with deliberate ease, his eyes fixed on her—unmoving, unblinking.
She felt the weight of his stare like fire on her skin. The blush spread deeper across her face. "He's watching me… will he think my shape is not attractive enough?" Nervousness swirled in her chest as she stole a glance at him.
"Um… can… can you not look? I—" Her voice trailed off as she bit her lower lip, seeing the cunning tilt of his smile.
"Need help?" Devon offered with a light chuckle, acting as though he hadn't heard her plea at all.
That unblinking gaze—sharp, amused, hungry—made her heart race uncontrollably. She glanced down at her chest, trying to reassure herself. "If he thinks my body isn't good enough… I'll have to work harder," she resolved silently.
Then, mustering courage only innocence could provide, she inhaled and let the towel slip from her fingers.
Now she stood bare before him.
Devon stilled. Even with all the restraint he prided himself on, the sight of her—vulnerable, stunning, trusting—hit him like a storm. His gaze darkened, desire flaring unmistakably.
He swallowed, jaw tightening. His self-control trembled at its limit, heat coiling through him.
"Ah… who allowed me to have such a breathtaking Queen?" he cursed inwardly, fighting himself.
She anxiously studied his expression, trying to decipher something—approval, disappointment, anything. So absorbed was she in her thoughts that she forgot entirely about dressing herself.
Seeing her so lost, Devon finally pushed away from the wall and approached her in slow, measured steps. She didn't even notice until his arms wrapped around her, pulling her flush against him. Before she could react, his lips claimed hers—soft, startling, irresistible.
She didn't resist. Instead, she wrapped her arms around his neck, responding with a sweetness he wasn't prepared for. While she melted into him, he discreetly began dressing her, piece by piece, without breaking the kiss.
After a while, he finally pulled away, breath unsteady but composed enough. "Let's get you something to eat first," he murmured. With effortless strength, he lifted her in one arm and picked up the tray with the other, carrying her out of the room.
Her lovestruck gaze never wavered from him. She looked at him as if her entire world sat in his arms.
"It seems like he is satisfied with my body" she thought, smiling happily.
"Devon," she whispered softly.
"Hm?" he responded as he reached the dining table. He set her on his lap like she weighed nothing. Fresh, steaming dishes filled the table, and he handed the old tray to a maid, who bowed before leaving.
"I… want to continue my schooling," she murmured, staring up at him with wide, sincere eyes.
"I know you've wanted that," Devon replied warmly as he began feeding her. "Everything is arranged. You'll continue tomorrow." he added.
Her eyes widened, gleaming like stars. "Devon!" She squealed happily and threw her arms around him, laughing uncontrollably, like an excited child assured of her favorite candy.
"Easy," he reminded softly. "You're still eating."
She nodded quickly, but her joy remained bright and uncontained, making Devon inwardly melt at how adorable she looked.
Minutes later, she leaned back slightly. "I'm full already," she announced, but her gaze didn't shift from his face.
He smirked. "If you keep staring at me like that, I'll lose control." His crimson eyes deepened.
Instead of shrinking, she reached up and touched his head lightly. "Can I see your horns now?" she asked, blinking twice—innocent yet irresistibly charming.
Devon dragged his tongue along his cheek in that signature way of his, giving her a knowing smirk. "Why do I feel there's more to this request?" His already striking face seemed to grow even more devastatingly handsome.
Her heart thundered as she lowered her gaze. His smirks always stole her breath. "I… I just want to touch them," she confessed softly.
He chuckled. "My Queen… are you prepared for the consequences?" he whispered.
Before she could answer, two majestic horns emerged from his head—large, dark, commanding. Instantly, the entire mansion shifted. Every living being, except the girl on his lap, dropped to their knees as a suffocating aura filled the air.
This was the real Devon—deadly, feared, ruthless.
But to her, he was simply breathtaking.
"Wow…" she breathed, reaching forward. She gently caressed the horns, her touch reverent. "They're even more beautiful than the maids' own!"
Devon exhaled shakily, eyes shutting. Her innocent touches burned like wildfire.
"Forget it. This is punishment," he thought, painfully aware of how hard he had become.
"Can I kiss them?" she whispered.
"My Queen—"
But before he could decline, she leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss against them.
His mind blanked.
In one swift movement, he lifted her onto the table, hands braced beside her as he crashed his lips onto hers. Heat crackled between them, intense and consuming. She wrapped her arms around him, pulling him impossibly closer.
But then, realization swept over him like cold water. If he didn't stop now, he wouldn't stop at all.
His horns retracted immediately, and he rested his forehead against her chest, panting.
"Devon?" she asked, startled.
"I'm fine…" His voice was hoarse, barely controlled. "This is getting out of hand." He pulled away and looked at her—his eyes deeper, darker, dangerous yet gentle. "Wait for me. I'll take a shower first."
He vanished before she could respond.
She stared after him, stunned. "Did I upset him?" Worry hit her instantly, and she hurried to his room.
....
For an hour and a half, Devon stayed under the cold shower, wrestling his desire into submission. Meanwhile, she stood outside the bathroom, hands clasped, panic swirling through her.
When he finally stepped out, wrapped in nothing but a towel, droplets sliding down his sculpted torso, her eyes nearly widened to tears. He moved toward her with an amused smile.
Even panic couldn't dim her awe of him.
"so handsome! I want to touch!, ah! what am I thinking?" she scolded herself inwardly, cheeks burning.
"Devon, I—"
"Why do you like calling me by my name?" he interrupted playfully, pulling her softly into his warmth. "We're married, aren't we? Shouldn't you call me something more intimate?"
Her face reddened instantly. "Do you… know my name?" she whispered.
Devon burst into laughter. "And why would you think I don't?"
"Since the day you found me… you've always called me Queen. I like it, but… I was afraid you didn't know my real name."
He lifted her chin gently and pressed a kiss to her lips. "How could I not know the name of my Queen?"
"Then… then call it. Just once." Her voice was small, trembling with anticipation.
"Want proof?" he teased.
"I just want to hear it," she breathed.
"Aveloria," he murmured, his voice deep, smooth, seductive.
She froze, eyes wide, heart exploding. "He knows my name… and it sounds so beautiful from him!" Warmth flooded her face as she buried it into her palms.
Devon chuckled. "Shouldn't I receive a reward for passing your test?"
"I—I wasn't testing you," Aveloria muttered bashfully.
"My Queen is too cute," he teased, kissing her again.
"Earlier… were you angry?" she asked timidly.
"No," he replied with a mischievous glint. "Just too….. hard."
"Huh?" she blinked, confused.
He tapped her forehead lightly. "Don't think too much. I'm simply too lucky to have a beauty goddess like you."
She reddened instantly. "I—I'll go take a stroll," she blurted and fled before her heart burst.
Devon chuckled, shaking his head. He turned to get dressed, but his phone rang.
He tossed it on the bed and answered while putting on his shirt. "What is it?"
"Boss, the spy has been caught," a man's voice announced.
Devon didn't flinch. "Take him to the underground," he ordered, voice cold enough to freeze blood.
"Yes!" The call disconnected.
Devon looked into the mirror.
His reflection smirked back—sharp, deadly, merciless.
"Well," he murmured, voice chilling, "doing things the mortal way is quite fun. Anyone who dares touch my Queen… will meet hell."
His eyes turned ice-cold. The atmosphere in the room shifted, darkening.
The devil had returned.
But only Aveloria would ever see the softness beneath.