Chapter 31

“…Ugh.”  

The woman’s eyes and lips twisted slightly as she struggled to endure the stinging pain.  

Ignoring her reaction, Karel kept his gaze fixed on the scratch-like wound, where beads of blood had formed. A faint glow grew in his eyes as he stared intently. The heat of his gaze made the woman instinctively want to clasp her hands over her chest.  

“That, Sir Knight…”  

The man’s firm gesture stopped her hands mid-air. His movements naturally reached for the torn part of her dress.  

Rip. Tear.  

With a decisive motion, the fabric was ripped apart entirely. The frilly neckline split open down to her navel, exposing her shoulders, which now slid down effortlessly with the slightest touch.  

Beneath the scratches, her chest—familiar only to him—was revealed.  

“…I killed too comfortably.”  

His tone was flat, but his low voice was chillingly eerie.  

“Hiccup.”  

The woman let out a trembling hiccup.  

Karel’s hand, which had removed the fabric, now cradled her pale chest, one side at a time. Slowly, his head lowered.  

“…Hmph.”  

The man’s thick tongue pressed against the wound. The sharp pain made her flinch slightly, but she willingly accepted his weight and lay down.  

His prominent nose brushed against her delicate neck. The faint scent of sweat—the only fragrance he could tolerate—brought him a sense of relief. The coolness of her skin in his hands was a softness he hadn’t felt in weeks. He wanted to grip her tightly, as if engraving the shape of his hand onto her skin, but he restrained himself. For now, soothing the marks took precedence.  

He followed the bloodied scratches steadily, licking away the beads of blood. His tongue gently caressed the spots where her skin had been scraped by a dull blade. When he reached a deeper wound, his tongue pressed against it.  

“Ugh…”  

The sharp pain made the woman bite her lip and twist her body.  

Karel dismissed her reaction as a response to faint stimulation on her skin. Meanwhile, his restrained fingertips slowly brushed against her ar*ola.  

His own arousal was unbearable; the tension in his pants was maddening.  

When he returned after disposing of the corpse and saw the fear in her trembling eyes, his momentary calmness was shattered. Even in this chaotic situation, his desire surged fiercely, leaving him astonished.  

While the sensation that had tormented him throughout his time in the Gray Mountain Range was overwhelming, facing the woman directly was an entirely different level of intensity.  

Especially when their skin touched.  

Thus, Karel ignored the moans echoing above his head and indulged solely in the metallic taste on his tongue. His restrained fingers curled slightly, slowly pressing into the pigmented skin.  

As the gentle sound of friction continued, softer than the snowstorm outside…  

“Hic, hmph, ah…”  

The sound he suddenly recognized was entirely different from her usual cries.  

Only then did Karel lift his head to examine the woman’s face.  

Her eyes were flushed red.  

Even when he sucked her into ecstasy or mercilessly thrust into her, her eyes often turned red. But now, the light in her gaze was different.  

“It… it stings…”  

A trembling sniffle escaped the tip of her nose. Her lips, thinly bitten in an attempt to endure, had lost their color.  

It stings? This?  

Karel looked down with a doubtful expression.  

Her dry chest, slick with his saliva, bore ugly red lines. He hadn’t thought they would cause pain. The wounds he knew were far more severe—deeper, sharper, and heavier.  

Compared to the scars he’d crossed and inflicted, these scratches were nothing. Yet they were painful to her.  

‘How pathetic I must seem, to think this hurts…’  

The woman wasn’t unfamiliar with injuries. She’d been cut by kitchen knives, paring knives, and graters; burns were commonplace.  

But this type of wound was new to her. Above all, the dull yet sharp pain from his gentle tongue felt like it was traveling through her nerves, heating her spine.  

The stimulation coloring the peak of her chest paled in comparison to this strange, spreading sensation.  

When the sharp, unfamiliar pain transferred to her neck and crown, she found herself sobbing uncontrollably.  

Karel paused his actions and looked up at her tear-streaked face.  

The reproach in his gaze made her nose flush hotly.  

To someone who pierced throats with his terrifying sword, these scratches must seem like a joke.  

Moreover, he was tending to her wounds in his own way, so she tried to endure it. But the strange, burning pain was hard to bear.  

Tears welled up uncontrollably. Her heart, already crushed by fear, was so fragile.  

Her tear-filled eyes, glancing at Karel below, sparkled with hues of light. The tears pooling in her eyes eventually traced pearl-like streaks down her flushed cheeks.  

The faint ripples of her tears reflected the starlight decorating the Gray Mountain Range’s night sky.  

In that pitch-dark night, where only fragments of stars were visible, the face she imagined was now crying in fear…  

Karel’s nostrils flared with self-mockery.  

It had always been this way.  

Whenever he saw her cry, whenever her tear-filled eyes glistened under her lashes, his arousal surged painfully.  

Was this another curse cast by that witch?  

Whenever the trembling woman looked at him with tearful, frightened eyes, he ended up like this…  

Karel stepped away from her and picked up the whiskey bottle lying under the bedside table.  

It had fallen when Randolph collapsed, spilling more than half its contents.  

The bottle, large for a single person to drink, hinted at Randolph’s intent to indulge in drunken debauchery for days.  

The mere thought of the deceased’s mindset disgusted Karel.  

The number “20” was etched on the bottle. Though not as fine as the whiskey gifted to him, it was still a rare vintage Randolph had saved for himself.  

He couldn’t have imagined it would be used to clean up the aftermath of his death.  

Karel tipped the bottle, letting the remaining whiskey drip onto the blood-stained area under his cloak. He then covered it with the blanket he’d taken from the woman, pressing it down firmly.  

Would this erase the traces of violence that didn’t belong in this cozy family home?  

Meanwhile, the woman, who had half-risen, watched his actions with wide eyes. Her gaze darted nervously, as if she were gauging his mood.  

Oddly enough, her innocent expression, peeking out from under her unevenly cut bangs, made Karel’s nostrils flare with amusement again.  

The woman flinched, but his laughter was directed at himself.  

Toward the feeble woman who could do nothing but fear him.  

Toward the woman whose life he could take or spare with a mere gesture.  

Toward himself, who had fallen for her.  

Every time he saw her face, he was consumed by the desire to bury himself in her deepest part.  

So much so that he had returned alive just to thrust himself into her again.  

Karel leaned over and pulled her chin toward him, swallowing her lips.  

His kiss, biting and relentless, pushed her back onto the bed.  

Her disheveled hair, uneven bangs, tear-streaked face, and bare chest…  

Karel tilted the whiskey bottle over her chest.  

“Ah, it stings…!”  

“Shh.”  

Karel pressed her trembling shoulders gently but firmly, pouring the whiskey over her chest.  

The golden-brown liquid soaked her milky skin, its faint oak aroma overshadowed by the harsh scent of disinfectant.  

She had carried trays of whiskey countless times but had never tasted it. The pungent smell filled her nostrils, making her feel suffocated.  

Meanwhile, the stinging pain from the scratches persisted, causing her eyes to well up again.  

The pain radiating from the deeper wounds spread to her underarms.  

After a while, Karel, watching her grimace, brought the bottle’s neck to his lips.  

He tipped the nearly empty bottle, letting the high-proof alcohol pour into his mouth.  

Karel’s large hand cupped her chin, and he squeezed her cheeks gently, making her mouth open involuntarily.  

His shadow loomed heavily over her.  

“…Mm!”  

The sudden rush of alcohol into her mouth startled her, causing her to choke.  

Coughing uncontrollably, she pushed him away and sat up.  

Her throat burned hotly, and the nausea made her eyes water, turning her eyelids red.  

“He would be sad.”  

Karel’s mocking remark went unanswered as she continued to cough violently.