You, My Devil - Chapter 12
No matter how fast he ran, his two legs could never outrun a four-legged beast. Gritting his teeth, he pushed his legs to their limit, moving as though his very breath was on the verge of escaping him. His overworked lungs burned with pain, and his heart pounded so violently it felt as though it might burst.
“Hah… Hah… Hah…”
The boy with fiery red hair sprinted desperately through the sinking sands of the desert. The hot breath of the wolf chasing him prickled at his back.
There was no time to look behind him. Slowing even slightly would mean the beast’s sharp fangs sinking into his neck.
Grrrr—
“Aaahhhh!”
The ash-gray wolf lunged, catching the hem of his clothing in its teeth. Its sharp claws raked down the exposed skin of his back, leaving deep, jagged wounds.
Bright red blood sprayed everywhere. The boy fell hard, rolling across the ground. Before he could recover, the wolf pounced, pinning him beneath its weight. Its heavy paws crushed his chest, making it nearly impossible to breathe.
“Ugh…!”
The wolf’s claws dug into his bare chest. With its hungry fangs inches from his throat, the boy instinctively reached for the knife hidden in his leather boot.
“Die!” he screamed, plunging the blade into the wolf’s gaping maw.
The beast thrashed violently, refusing to die so easily. Its claws tore into the boy’s underdeveloped shoulders, fresh blood dripping from the gashes.
“Aaargh!”
With a surge of desperate strength, the boy yanked the knife free from the wolf’s throat. Blood spurted like a fountain, splattering across his pale skin and into his eyes.
“Die already! Just die!”
Screaming in a frenzy, he stabbed the wolf’s chest repeatedly. Even after the beast lay lifeless, its heart no longer beating, the boy continued to stab it, over and over.
“Hah… Hahaha… Hahahahaha!”
At last, the boy dropped to his knees on the sand, his shoulders shaking with wild, unhinged laughter.
“Khh… Hahahaha…”
When he returned to the palace with the corpse of the massive wolf slung over his back, Nike rewarded him with a sharper, deadlier blade. The boy accepted it in silence, his gray eyes glinting coldly as he smiled. Those eyes, once bright, now carried the same predatory glint as the wolf he had slain.
‘W-what… What’s happening?!’
Heina stared in terror at Yuri, who loomed over her, panting heavily. His gray eyes glowed in the darkness, but they were empty, unfocused. Though he appeared to be looking at her, she knew he was seeing something else entirely.
“Hrk!”
His large hands wrapped around her slender neck, squeezing tightly. Blood rushed to her face, and the pressure threatened to burst every vein in her body.
Yuri’s expression was merciless, his tightly shut lips eerily determined. Sweat dripped from his pale, almost ghostly skin, landing on her face as he continued to choke her.
‘He’s really… trying to kill me!’
She beat against his shoulders with all her might, but Yuri remained unresponsive. It was as though he was trapped in a nightmare he couldn’t wake from.
Reaching out desperately, her hands scrambled to grab hold of anything nearby. Her fingers closed around an object, and without hesitation, she swung it at him.
The base of a candlestick struck his face, leaving a shallow cut on his cheek. A drop of blood trickled from the wound and fell onto Heina’s face. Slowly, the pressure of his grip began to loosen.
“Cough! Guh—cough, cough!”
Heina rolled away from him, gasping for air as she collapsed onto the ground. Her throat felt raw, and bile rose in her stomach as tears streamed uncontrollably down her face.
Her sclera was streaked red from burst blood vessels, and her breath came in ragged sobs.
“You insane… bastard… Ugh… Urk…”
She retched, her body trembling violently.
Even though they had escaped Granada, the journey to Constance was long and grueling—weeks on horseback through harsh terrain. It was not a distance they could cover in a single day, not even at a full gallop. The trip would take at least a month.
Every night, as if it were the most natural thing in the world, Yuri had insisted on sharing the tent with her, pulling her into his arms as they slept.
For the past two weeks, there had been no incidents. Then, tonight, without warning, he had turned into a monster, attacking her as if possessed.
It was as though the uneventful nights until now had been mocking her, lulling her into a false sense of security. Tonight shattered that illusion entirely.
The intense terror coursing through Heina’s body did not paralyze her completely. She trembled as she crawled across the tent floor, reaching for the discarded candlestick with its sharp, pointed end. Her hands gripped it tightly, preparing herself to use it if necessary.
Yuri had risen to a sitting position. He reached up to touch his cheek, his fingers coming away streaked with blood. Slowly, he raised his head. His face was drenched in cold sweat, and strands of damp red hair clung to his forehead.
Then, in a voice that was low and cracked, he spoke, his eyes still unfocused.
“You… Are you alive?”
Heina stared at him in disbelief, her laugh brittle and half-hysterical.
“What?”
“I asked if you’re alive. Did I… not kill you?”
As his hoarse voice filled the space, Heina let out a noise that was somewhere between a sob and a sigh.
“Ha… Have you gone so far off the deep end that you can’t even tell dreams from reality anymore?”
Yuri exhaled deeply, his breath shaky. His gray eyes were still strangely unfocused, as though he were looking through her, seeing something she couldn’t.
And then, it hit her.
‘This is the perfect chance to strike.’
He was so close—within arm’s reach. Her hands shook violently as she tightened her grip on the candlestick.
Do it. Stab him.
Her heart pounded furiously in her chest, the sound of her own pulse thundering in her ears. But even as she raised her trembling arm to strike, her body froze. She couldn’t bring herself to act.
He’s a monster, Heina… He tried to kill you!
Grinding her teeth, she raised the candlestick high and brought it down with all her might.
“Hyah!”
The candlestick sank into Yuri’s shoulder. Blood immediately began to pour from the wound, dripping down his arm. But instead of reacting with pain or anger, Yuri merely glanced at the injury without flinching. He reached up, yanked the makeshift weapon out of his flesh, and tossed it aside as though it were nothing.
‘How… How can he do that?’
There was no time for shock. Before she could even take another breath, Yuri closed the distance between them, pinning her down.
This is it. I’m going to die, Heina thought, squeezing her eyes shut.
But instead of the final blow she expected, Yuri’s large hands tangled in her hair, pulling her head back slightly. His brows furrowed deeply.
“You’re really alive… Aren’t you?”
“Ah…”
Lowering his face, he buried it against her neck, inhaling deeply. His breath sent shivers down her spine, and she flinched instinctively.
Yuri’s body trembled faintly as if he were struggling to ground himself. Memories clawed at the edges of his mind—memories of the time Nike had left him to die in the desert for ten days. The first time he had faced death head-on, his body shaking with uncontrollable terror.
When the nightmare finally ended, it was always the same. He’d awaken to find blood everywhere—other people’s blood.
Damn it… Damn it all…!
Yuri pressed his nose to her neck, almost like a wild animal seeking her pulse. The faint rhythm of her heartbeat under his skin both reassured him and drove him to the brink.
Her scent wasn’t strong enough. It wasn’t enough to quell the restless heat burning in his veins.
“Ah!”
With a sudden burst of aggression, he grabbed the fabric of her clothes and tore them apart, exposing her pale skin. Pressing his ear to her chest, he listened to the frantic beating of her heart. It was so loud, so alive—but it still wasn’t enough.
The thirst gnawed at him, unrelenting. His blood burned hotter and hotter, demanding more proof of her existence.
Acting almost unconsciously, Yuri slid his hands behind her, lifting her upper body off the ground. His dry lips latched onto her slender neck, sucking forcefully as he bit down.
“Agh! That hurts!” Heina yelped, her body jerking in protest.
Her struggles only seemed to fuel him further. Yuri tightened his grip, leaving unmistakable marks on her skin as he buried his face deeper into her neck. Her scent seemed stronger now, more intoxicating, but the thirst inside him refused to fade.
His free hand roamed over her body, gripping her roughly. The frenzy in his actions left no room for tenderness or reason—only raw, overwhelming need.
“Why… Why are you doing this?”
Heina’s trembling voice was laced with terror as she shook her head violently, her expression pleading. Beneath his weight, her body quivered in fear, alive and palpable.
Yuri felt a strange wave of relief wash over him, knowing he hadn’t accidentally killed her. His tongue ran across his parched lips before those same lips descended onto the soft curve of her chest.
The moment his touch landed, Heina’s body jolted as if struck by lightning, and she let out a piercing scream.
“Ahhh!!!”
Yuri’s crimson hair spilled over her chest as his lips and tongue moved across her skin, consuming her as though drinking honey. Still leaning against her, he untied his bloodstained robe and let it slide off his shoulders. His mind had made its decision—he would claim her.
No matter how close he brought their bodies together, no matter how much of her scent he inhaled, it wasn’t enough. Yuri couldn’t stop until he was certain—absolutely certain—of her existence as a living being beneath him.
“What are you doing?! Stop…! Stop it!!” Heina’s voice broke, her panic swelling as his hand slid between her thighs. It was then she realized, with gut-wrenching clarity, that he was serious.
His gaze wasn’t clouded with desire but with the primal intent of a predator about to devour its prey. The gray flames in his eyes weren’t just hungry; they were consuming. She had never felt such raw intensity from anyone before. Yuri looked like a man possessed.
“Please… Please!”
Desperation overtaking her, Heina reached out with trembling hands, grabbing a fistful of his crimson hair. She yanked him toward her, sobbing uncontrollably.
“Stop… Stop… Just kill me instead. Please, I’m begging you… kill me.”
Her voice cracked with each plea, her lips trembling as blood trickled from where she’d bitten them too hard.
“Let me die with dignity… Please, Prince of Nike… please…”
Tears streamed down her cheeks as she pressed her forehead against his, her body shaking with every sob. Warm droplets fell steadily from her closed eyes, dampening his face.
Yuri’s breath, ragged and uneven, fanned against her flushed skin. His bare chest rose and fell erratically, each movement betraying the turmoil within him.
“Hah… Hah…”
Their faces were mere inches apart. His hand shot up to grip her face firmly, tilting her head to meet his gaze.
“Open your eyes,” he ordered, his voice low and suffocatingly intense.
Heina hesitated but obeyed, her golden lashes trembling as she forced her tear-streaked eyes open. Her jaw quivered, and her teeth chattered from the lingering terror.
Yuri’s gray eyes, dulled by madness moments before, seemed to regain a fraction of their focus. His breathing steadied slightly as he looked at her, trying to anchor himself.
“To kill or to spare you…” he rasped, each word deliberate, “…that’s for me to decide. Not you. Foolish slave of Constance.”
More tears rolled down her face, clinging to her lashes before falling in glistening trails. Yuri’s chest tightened at the sight, an unfamiliar heat welling up within him.
“Hah… Foolish girl. Is crying all you know how to do?”
His words were sharp and cutting, but Heina made no attempt to retaliate. Paralyzed by fear, she focused solely on suppressing the sobs that clawed at her throat. Her muffled hiccups and sniffles only made the scene more pitiful.
Yuri’s mind spun. A part of him wanted her to continue crying, to hear her broken sobs forever. Yet, another part of him wanted her to stop, to leave him in peace. His thoughts, which had just begun to settle, became a chaotic tangle once more.
The heat coursing through his veins intensified a familiar sensation that often accompanied his most violent impulses. The desire to destroy something, to extinguish life, roared within him.
“Damn it…”
Clenching his jaw, Yuri finally forced himself to pull away from her. His body trembled as he stood, hastily throwing his robe over his shoulders. Without a word, he turned his back on her and staggered toward the tent’s exit.
The dry desert air hit him like a slap as he pushed the flap aside, stepping out into the cold night. The sky was still shrouded in darkness, the stars above stark against the vast, endless void.
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