"No, you won't?" Racheal's visage turned cold when Damian's motionless body refused to respond.
She pulled back slightly, her expression twisting into something ugly and cruel, a face he had never seen on her before. Without hesitation, she spun around, her hair whipping across his face as she walked with measured steps toward the center of the battlefield.
"I didn't want to make my husband crawl and beg while doing my bidding, but you leave me no choice!"
As she spoke, the ground began to tremble, and a faint fog started seeping out from the earth, just like Damian had seen countless times during demonic attacks. He watched as the fog gathered at the center, folding into itself and rising higher, layering upon itself until it formed a massive bulb. In the next instant, it burst apart, revealing a steel throne lined with expensive velvet cushions, its eerie shape resembling the gaping jaw of a beast, jagged with razor-sharp teeth.
