Death Before Dishonor!

Was she afraid of death? No, if she was, then she wouldn't have dealt such a fatal blow to herself. Then he must've been too frightening.

No...if he was, she wouldn't have dared to laugh in his face...

Iblis paced around the pool of blood, his crimson-dark orbs fixated on the woman as he internally mused to himself. Hours had passed since the servants left, but there was no news of their return. He found himself growing increasingly restless as the night deepened.

Insolent woman! 

Foolish woman!

"Bold woman, since you dared to challenge me, don't even think about dying so easily!" Iblis hunched down and forcefully gripped her chin, hissing in her blood smeared face with a vengeful edge. He was so riled up that he didn't even notice the blood foam seeping into his body through his pores.

"When my servants return with the dragon's heart blood, I'll show you the consequences of going against me!" Loosening his grip, he rose back to his feet, and resumed his pacing.

Another hour passed, and seeing no sign of the little demons, he strode to the door and hollered at the guards stationed in the corridors. "Are they back?"

"No, My Lord!"

"Useless trashes! What's taking the lowly creatures so long!?"

The guards only lowered their heads, and didn't dare to comment. The Isle of Eve wasn't an ordinary land. Surrounded by water on all sides, the small island was home to most of the mythical beasts known in the present world through fantasy novels and movies. 

Dragons, gargoyles, black phoenixes, wyverns, winged tigers among other legendary creatures took turns to guard the place against the invasion of werewolves, faes, and vampires, making it near impossible to set foot on the land.

The guards would be more than impressed for the servants to enter that place and return unscathed in a week's time. For them to do so within 6 hours was unthinkable.

As such, they wisely kept their mouths shut and didn't dare to voice their thoughts.

Iblis snorted disgustedly. This was why life was no longer interesting. Each and every one of them tucked in their shoulders and shrunk their necks. No one had the courage to look him in the eye and answer his question or talk back to him.

This was why he couldn't let her die. He was afraid he would die of boredom.

Clasping his hands behind his back, he threw a kick at the nearest guard and coldly commanded. "Go! Inform the Prime Guard to send a squad of patrols to rush them! Even if they squander their lives, they must get me a dragon's heart blood! Understand!?" 

"Yes, My lord!" Scrambling to his feet, the guard turned and fled.

Iblis returned to the room and resumed his vigil.

This night was one of the most intriguing nights of his life. Sitting on the edge of a bed, he watched a dying woman with unblinking eyes. Even on the days he exterminated a pack or slept in a woman's embrace, he had never performed either task with such devotion.

Right before the strike of midnight, the squad of servants returned covered in blood. Some lost an arm or a leg, while others were completely disfigured.

A female servant with a severed arm still dripping with acid blood stumbled into the room and presented a golden flask with a silver liquid slushing inside on one knee. "My Lord, the dragon's heart blood." 

Ignoring the nauseating stench of her rotting flesh, Iblis took the flask and waved dismissively. "Hmm...inform the Healer."

With the appearance of the dragon's heart blood, the healer was rudely dragged to the little palace room again. Under the intense gaze of the servants and the Demon Lord, he dripped the silver liquid on the torn piece of flesh that was once a heart, and began his treatment in solemn silence.

This night, not a single servant of the Jabril Palace got any sleep. They were too afraid of closing their eyes and waking up to the news of the woman's demise. If that happened, they wouldn't even get the chance to say goodbye to their families before meeting the Lord of the Underworld.

As such, a night that should've been like any other night where the Demon Lord slept with a new mistress in his quest to get an heir turned into a palace vigil in which everyone in the palace, except for the Demon Queen, stood outside the little palace room in trepidation.

And the one because of whom the entire Jabril Palace was awake was counting sheeps in her sleep.

"One sheep, two sheeps, three sheeps to hell, life is nothing but a big fat scum! Four sheeps, five sheeps, six sheeps to heaven, the Moon Goddess is nothing but a heartless Queen. Seven sheeps, eight sheeps, nine sheeps for freedom, I haven't got a penny to redeem myself..."

Floating in a white void, Shamsiya chuckled mirthlessly. She didn't hope to be redeemed for taking her life. She didn't anticipate the Moon Goddess welcoming her into her abode.

Most of all, she didn't expect to escape hell by a fluke.

20 years of misery taught her the heavens were cruel, and they didn't give a damn about anyone's suffering. After years of insecurity and wistful thinking, she finally found the courage to do what she had always wanted.

The truth was, the years of name-calling and blatant discrimination had caused her to develop a mild case of depression.

She tried to stay strong, and instead of dwelling on her sad life, focused her attention on the little miracles she created growing plants.

In the aftermath of World War Three and the Demon Lord's conquest, bellowing smoke and destruction cloaked every land the eye could see. The drastic dip in population resulted in a shortage of able men, causing packs to become overwhelmed with widowed women and orphan children who could barely feed themselves.

Those days, lucky children got adopted by pack members who encountered difficulties in having their own children, while the unlucky batch, like her, ended up in pack orphanages. When food and resources became scarce, infighting naturally turned into a norm.

Being a hybrid, Shamsiya lacked the natural strength of pure-blood werewolves, which usually resulted in her going to bed on an empty stomach. While her peers grew tall and strong, she became skinny and weak. This went on until the night of her 13th birthday, when she awakened the ability to grow plants.

In those years, she kept herself alive by growing carrots and greens with her little ability.

After getting married, she used all the money she earned from her part-time jobs to feed and support her bastard husband. Even the Alpha of the pack had a hard time getting two meals a day. But she lived thanks to the plants she grew with her ability. 

During those days, she thought about taking her life numerous times to escape the nightmare. Not only because of the exclusion from her peers, but also because of her mild depression. 

Sadly, she had the thought, but lacked the courage to do the deed.

No matter how hard living became, how deeply the loneliness ate at her core, and how much she hated her existence, she could never gather the courage to slit her wrist and end everything.

No confidence to live, but also no courage to die. Too cowardly. That's what she thought of herself until today.

From the moment Nick Jackson sold her to a stranger, something seemed to change within her.

To her great surprise, she discovered she still had a backbone and wasn't completely a lost cause. She still cared about something, and still had something to fight for.

Though death was an enticing lover that followed her all her life, it wasn't until she faced the threat of dishonor that she found the courage to voluntarily jump into its embrace.

Death before dishonor.

At the moment when she faced the Demon Lord, this phrase resonated in the depth of her soul with a might and force far greater than the pain of betrayal. Stronger, powerful, and far deeper than the phrase, 'as long as there is life, it will never be too late to exact revenge'.

Because she knew. There would be no point in revenge if she tarnished her body, and became a mere shell of herself. Hatred and revenge only ruined a person. And for once in her life, Shamsiya decided to love herself instead of expecting others to love her by refusing to be treated like a whore.

However...even though she had no regrets, why was it that she still felt bitter?