Volumes 1-4 + Side Stories of DMS are available uncensored on ko-fi! ※ This work contains depictions of coercive relationships, explicit language, and other graphic content. Reader discretion is advised.

VI.

At some point, Jaha began to notice the Emperor’s change. Beyond the continued, unnecessary flood of material gifts, his attitude had shifted.

He still demanded intimacy whenever he pleased, but at some point, the vulgar words that used to spill from his lips had noticeably dwindled.

It wasn’t as if he had returned to the days of silence, but the crude language that had once made Jaha tremble with disgust had vanished, making things at least somewhat bearable. And unlike before, when he had taken her like a beast determined to devour her, he now joined their bodies together with surprising gentleness.

“Are you alright? Does it hurt?”

He even went so far as to ask questions like these, as though he were genuinely concerned for her comfort.

This transformation—as if he had become a completely different person—made Jaha’s skin crawl more than it pleased her. But the most unbearable part was the kissing.

A kiss so tender it felt almost reverent, as if she might melt under it.

The Emperor’s kisses were unsettlingly similar to those she had shared with Cedric in her dreams, stirring a confusing whirl of emotions.

Are all gentle kisses supposed to feel the same? Or…

“Hng…”

Her strength draining away, Jaha let out a faint whimper and collapsed into the Emperor’s arms.

After a brief moment of tension, he carefully wrapped his arms around her, holding her close.

Resting her head against his chest, Jaha slowly blinked.

Plunderer.

No other word suited this man better.

No matter how well he treated her now, plunder was still plunder. Just as a stalker imprisoning his victim and catering to her whims—like a tongue soothing the inside of a mouth—didn’t erase the crime.

Jaha steadied her breath and lifted her head, meeting the Emperor’s gaze as he looked down at her in silence.

His violet eyes swirled with indecipherable emotions.

Lately, he had often watched her like this.

Not wanting to decipher what lay within them, Jaha averted her eyes. In response, the Emperor cupped her face and pressed kisses everywhere—her eyelids, cheeks, the bridge of her nose, her forehead—each touch like a baptism. A faint crease formed between Jaha’s brows.

I’ve already crossed a river too wide to turn back. So why now?

Once his lips had wandered enough, the Emperor—seemingly insatiable—sat Jaha on the desk and began touching her all over. There was nothing explicitly s****l in his caresses; it was more like the absentminded petting of someone obsessed.

Jaha turned her head, her gaze settling on a black gemstone resting on the desk.

An eerie mineral that absorbed visible light so completely it looked like a dark void, a hole punched through reality.

Staring at its black-hole-like form, she felt as if she might be sucked inside. A delusion took hold—that if she slipped into it, she might be spat out somewhere else, transcending time and space to return to Earth.

Of course, it was absurd fantasy. Even if it were a real black hole, a black hole was just a celestial body. Not a magical portal to another dimension or a wormhole. Beyond the event horizon lay only a singularity, where not even light could escape.

She knew this. And yet, Jaha couldn’t tear her eyes away from the enigmatic black stone. Without realizing it, as if entranced, she reached out toward it.

The gemstone was placed just out of reach—close enough that if she leaned forward, she might barely graze it. Jaha had already begun tilting her body toward it when—

Just before her fingertips could touch the black jewel, the Emperor snatched her wrist, pulling her back. Only then did she realize she had been about to touch his possession without permission.

Silently, he interlaced their fingers and guided her hand back to her lap.

Had it been any other gem, he would have placed it in her palm the moment she showed interest. But the Heart of the Black Prince was different.

Not because he begrudged giving it to her. He would have gladly handed her treasures ten times its worth if she so much as glanced at them. Only this one was an exception.

He had noticed how often her gaze lingered on that stone. And every time he witnessed it, something sour twisted inside his chest.

That distant look in her eyes—as if she were seeing somewhere far beyond this place—irritated him. It felt like she might vanish at any moment, slipping away to somewhere his hands could never reach.

What is she thinking?

I wish she wouldn’t look at it.

I wish she wouldn’t care about it at all.