Chapter 58 : I Need You to Wrap Yourself Around Me

“Little Milly, I’m giving you two choices.”

But before stating them, Stacy held up a transparent crystal.

“Watch closely.”

She tilted Milly’s chin back—toward the wall.

A projection shimmered into view—showing the scene downstairs.

In the center—Tifna knelt on the floor, clutching a bloodstained fragment of armor. Tears glistened on her cheeks.

“This is happening right now, downstairs.”

Milly’s pupils shrank. Her throat clenched—like crushed by an invisible hand. She couldn’t breathe. Nails dug into her palms—no pain registered.

On screen, Tifna lifted her head—eyes hollow, lips trembling.
“Brother… why…?”

Hope shattered. The Saint had brought bad news.

Stacy frowned slightly. Annoyed—but this was exactly the reaction she needed.

“What a tragic sight,” Stacy whispered, voice like a serpent’s hiss. “You know what that scrap is, don’t you, Milly?”

How could she not? The only thing that could make Tifna break like this—was obvious.

“It’s hers… brother’s…”

The word remains died in her throat as Stacy cut her off.

“They were so close. So loving. It makes me… jealous.” She lifted Milly’s chin with her foot, forcing eye contact. “So tell me, little Milly… what do you think will happen if I throw you down there—and tell her the Church found a hidden demon… and that her brother’s death… is your fault?”

In a way… it was true. Agnes’s death was tied to Milly. After all—she now wore Agnes’s body.

Her bat-like wings instinctively shrank. Blood froze in her veins.

She stared at Tifna’s face—once kind, now twisted with grief. She couldn’t look away. Her throat locked—no words came.

Would Tifna draw her sword? Or would her mind shatter completely?

The white-haired girl she’d saved—cared for—was a demon. And linked to her brother’s death.

Even knowing she was just a scapegoat—Milly couldn’t survive that truth.

Not even the Yellow River could wash her clean.

“What’s… the other choice?”

Her voice was raw, broken.

Perfect. That was the question Stacy waited for.

She turned Milly’s gaze back. Her foot traced up from chin to lip.

“Simple. My demands aren’t high. Just… repeat what we did before.”

Memories flashed—her first meeting with Tifna. Thinking she’d be taken as a prisoner. Then—Tifna’s gentle smile.

“Don’t be afraid. We mean no harm.”

The roasted venison. Simple flavor. Ordinary, by old-world standards.

Yet it made her feel alive for the first time since transmigration.

More memories surged—so short, yet so precious. She craved them. Wanted to create more.

If she was thrown down now—all of it—past, present, future—would shatter.

Without those memories, she might’ve hesitated.

But because she’d seen light—darkness became unbearable.

Just let Stacy do it again. She’d endured worse. One more time wouldn’t break her.

“I understand.”

Milly climbed onto the bed—lay on her back.

Endure. Like always.

But something felt… off.

Since transforming, her recovery speed had skyrocketed. In her previous drained state, she shouldn’t have been able to move.

Now—she had strength. Even leftover energy.

Faster healing should’ve been good.

But this strength only served Stacy.

The faster she recovered—the harder Stacy could go. The more variations she could endure.

Pathetic. Unable to resist.

She forced a bitter smile.

After awakening, she’d hoped—at least to hurt Stacy.

But when she tried? Stacy’s mere presence crushed her.

Now, the dream replayed—not whips, but things too dark to describe.

The mattress beneath her felt cold. Was it sweat? Or something else?

Just endure.

But Stacy didn’t start.

Instead—she removed her crimson gown—revealing her flawless body.

Smiling at obedient Milly, Stacy leaned down—pressing close. Cold breath brushed Milly’s ear.

“That’s my good girl. But…” Her voice dropped—dangerous. “Suffering alone is boring. Fun things are better shared.”

What?

Stacy took Milly’s hand—placed it on her own body.

“I want you to wrap yourself around me.”

Even humiliation has limits. But this was Stacy. Limits didn’t exist.

Always passive before—this was the first time Milly touched Stacy.

Back in her old life, this would’ve been fantasy.

Now? Only disgust in her eyes.

“What? Not willing, little Milly? Then let’s go say hello. I’ll find your clothes.”

No.

Milly grabbed her wrist.

Anything but that.

She’d grown weak. As if she’d gained a weakness.

Furious at herself for missing Milly earlier—Stacy now saw this: Milly voluntarily pressed closer.

With a soft ah, she bit into Stacy’s neck.

Pleasant tingles. To anyone else, flesh would’ve torn.

But to Stacy? This gentle bite was… arousing.

As their bodies entwined—blossoms bloomed in the moonlit garden. A decadent scent filled the air—pulling reason deeper into the abyss of pleasure.

Yet—Stacy’s eyes flickered with irritation.

Tifna meant more to Milly than she expected.

To protect her, Milly had even suppressed her defiance.

“So much do you care for her?”

A strange restlessness stirred inside.

Even as their bodies joined—pleasure surged—yet it felt… insufficient.