Chapitre 144: Horrors of Hell [12]

If Cole had been able to form a coherent thought, it would have been this: the figure before him looked like the devil himself smiling at him. No—two devils, two sets of twisted smiles, and eyes so cold that his body shuddered involuntarily.

In a way, it was obvious why the resemblance between the two was so striking—they were father and son.

Cole swallowed nervously, taking a cautious step back. The corner of Azriel's mouth twisted further into a grin. Joaquin, on the other hand, stopped smiling. He shifted, and with a subtle gesture, a throne forged from pure darkness manifested behind him. He sank into it, resting his cheek on his hand, watching everything unfold with an unsettling curiosity.

Yet, this did not ease Cole's panic. Joaquin's mere presence radiated an unspoken threat; if Cole made the wrong move or tried to flee, death would be the least of his worries.