Alpha's Rejected Mate Returns as Queen

241 Awakaned

Selma Payne’s POV:

Dorothy was a beautiful lady. Her facial features were gentle, and she had a demure aura. The way she sat in the library and read was like a classical oil painting.

However, it was strange for such a face to be on a demon.

Compared to Dorothy, Azazel’s facial features were sharper and had a distinct masculine quality. And from the details, the two looked different, but anyone who knew Dorothy would think of her when they saw Azazel. This was a wonderful similarity. It was not a rigid copy but rather caused by the blood of the mayfly.

I was so shocked by this thought that my heart skipped a beat.

Dorothy and Azazel? Give me a break! There were thousands of years between them!

It had to be said that Azazel was very handsome and had a very charming temperament. Upon seeing him, one’s first reaction would never be to think he was a demon. Instead, one would think such a person should have grown up in a church, from a choir to a confessional.

The black fog condensed into a long robe, and Azazel put it on as if no one else was around. It was as if the servants and we at his feet were nothing but air.

“It’s been 300 years,” Azazel murmured as he looked at the bright moonlight. “It’s been so long, yet so short.”

“Your believers are always looking forward to your return! We have selected the most vicious sacrifice and the purest bride for you as the appetizer to welcome your return. Please enjoy!” the archpriest said enthusiastically.

However, Azazel did not look at the corpses on the ground or care about the unconscious witches next to the altar.

“I think I was wrong, Castro. You don’t understand me at all.”

The archpriest immediately panicked and asked in fear, “Please explain, my Lord.”

“I don’t like wolves pulling my carriage. These animals that don’t bathe will dirty my cushion.”

As soon as he finished speaking, the wolves began to transform. No matter how hard they tried, they couldn’t control their bodies and eventually turned back into werewolves.

Morgan disappeared. Aldrich, who replaced him, stood beside me, and we looked at each other in shock.

“I don’t like witches either. The dirty smell of the swamp on their bodies makes me sick.”

With a wave of his hand, the witches disappeared without a trace.

Where did they go? It was true that these girls weren’t very smart, but these were innocent lives!

“Where did you send them?” I stood out in anger.

“Watch your attitude!” the archpriest immediately rebuked in dissatisfaction. “Heathen! You can’t be disrespectful to my master!”

I ignored him and looked straight into his blank eyes. I stubbornly needed an answer. I was not afraid of angering him. Facing such a powerful demon with such an unpredictable mood, his emotions are of no importance because if he wanted to kill us, it’d be as easy as stepping on an ant. Since that was the case, why should he be so submissive and make him unhappy?

To my surprise, Azazel didn’t answer me, nor did he get angry or laugh at me for overestimating myself. He looked at me in a daze, then walked straight toward me.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Aldrich immediately stood in front of me, but with a wave of Azazel’s hand, he and the other werewolves were firmly trapped on the rock wall like iron sheets attracted by a magnet.

“Dammit! Don’t get close to her, you disgusting goat person!”

Aldrich’s angry curses did not get any response from Azazel. He suddenly lost his voice, and blood gushed out of his mouth.

“Don’t hurt him!” I glared at Azazel anxiously. “Whatever you want to do, come at me!”

“It’s just a small punishment. I don’t like flies buzzing around my ears. It makes me think of Beelzebub, that mud monster. Losing a tongue won’t affect werewolves,” Azazel said lightly. “It’ll grow back on its own in a week.”

What did he say? Did he destroy Aldrich’s tongue?

After throwing my fear and anxiety to the back of my mind, I ran in large strides toward Aldrich and pried open his mouth under his worried and disapproving gaze. His tongue was even redder under the blood. Countless cracks cut the soft muscle tissue into a torn hemp rope, and blood flowed out.

Azazel ignored my glare and stood where I was standing. He suddenly took a deep breath.

“Phew... what a familiar smell.”

His scarlet eyes were like a giant hand that locked onto me.

“A stream, a thin layer of snow, a clear night sky, and clear moonlight. I like this taste; it makes me feel relaxed and happy. I have dreamed of these crickets in my 300 years of boring sleep.”

No matter how beautiful a man was, he would sound very vulgar when he judged your taste. I said, “You’re so disgusting. You’re like a pervert who’s been single for fifty years and can only masturbate by stealing his neighbor’s underwear.”

The archpriest looked like he wanted to rush over and break my neck. Azazel interrupted his obscenity and chuckled happily. “Even their personalities are so familiar! My dear lady, what’s your name?”

“Why should I tell you?”

“Her name is Selma, my Lord. One of the candidates for your one-night bride. I believe this lowly soul will always be honored if I can get your mercy,” the priest answered, flattering.