Nickolai's eyes widened in shock as Natalya laid out the truth of what I was—what I could do. His gaze flicked between me and the corpses scattered across his hall, his mind clearly struggling to reconcile the supernatural with the real.
For a man like him, a man who had built his empire on brutality and control, the idea of something—someone—existing beyond his understanding was unsettling. But then, something shifted in his expression. The shock melted into amusement, his lips curling into a cheeky, knowing smirk.
"Son-in-law," he said, his voice dripping with a mix of resignation and mischief, "I have no objection to you guys being together." He leaned back, his arms crossing over his chest as he looked at me with a newfound—almost fatherly—approval.
"In fact," he continued, his grin widening, "why don't you two just get married?" He spread his hands, gesturing to the grand hall around us, the bloodstained marble and the broken bodies of his men.
