The cottage door was opened, and the cold afternoon wind howled in. The female Alpha and the driver looked up to see Rommel crossing the threshold, expressionlessly making a gesture. It meant for them to leave.
The two subordinates exchanged knowing glances, stood up, and left. The door closed again. Rommel walked to the bedside and looked down at his captured prey.
The north-facing residence was originally backlit, and in the gloomy winter about to snow, it was even more dark and damp. The bed was small and low, and the prey would not feel comfortable. Rommel’s gaze fell on his forehead, where fine wrinkles were indeed formed, seemingly still full of dissatisfaction even in unconsciousness.
But when he lay there unconscious, his entire body seemed enveloped in an extremely soft and ethereal light, making the simple and messy cottage appear extraordinarily charming.
This was not the first time Rommel had felt this way. He exhaled, finally sitting on the bed’s edge, lowering his head to carefully examine the familiar face before him, once again confirming the source of that subtle light – too pale.
Like a white, beautiful marble repeatedly polished and carved, weathered by time and years, still pristine, still radiating an innocent yet sharp brilliance in a world growing increasingly bleak and aged around it.
Why? He thought mockingly: This is clearly a monster.
Rommel slowly extended his hand but did not truly touch, sliding just a finger’s width away from Si Nan’s unconscious cheek.
He still remembered when he was very young, sitting angrily in the garden, waiting for the car carrying “that woman” to pass by. He had forgotten the specific facial features of that woman, but the shocking charm of that moment of seeing her in person, and the twisted disgust born from it, were deeply preserved in his heart.
Exactly the same as this nominal younger brother.
He had once thought of murdering this weak, bullied child more than once – in the luxurious and decaying manor, achieving this goal was actually very easy. But one night, while sneaking into Noah’s bedroom under the cover of servants, staring at his adopted brother, contemplating whether to strangle or choke him, he suddenly felt a barely visible halo around him.
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Like water flowing over white porcelain, spreading out soft and implicit nuances.
