Chapter 181

Noticing her clueless expressions, Sohrab’s eyes suddenly glistened. Seeing the Devil weep was more terrifying than seeing him rage. It was shocking to see him tearing. For a brief moment, the anger on his face wavered, replaced by something far more raw and vulnerable, something that looked dangerously close to grief. She always thought he had no heart. In her mind, he had always been carved out of stone, untouched by regret or pain, incapable of feeling anything beyond cruelty. But stone did not tremble, and stone did not cry. Seeing moisture gather in his eyes unsettled her more than his rage ever had, because it made everything painfully real.

“Do you not remember the black roses you used to water in this garden and someone always plucked them off before they were fully grown?” His voice softened as he spoke, almost fragile, as if the memory itself hurt him more than any wound. The question sliced through her fear, pulling her backward through time. A memory striked in Ros