"Boy, get those unrealistic thoughts out of your head. It's not that easy to win over a queen. Besides, she likes someone older, not a boy who's just weaned off his mother," Zafir said, watching Daemom sip his second Manhattan with a stern tone. His voice carried nothing but a hint of disdain and sarcasm.
Raising an eyebrow at Zafir's hostility, Daemom flashed a mischievous smile and replied casually, "Well, if we're talking about chances, I don't think you're in a position to judge. After all, you've been fawning over her for far too long."
Daemom swore he could almost hear the sound of an arrow piercing Zafir's heart as he said this.
Observing the rigid expression on the man—or rather, the supernatural being—Daemom lifted his glass to his lips and glanced over at Bilqis, who was sitting alone at a table, smoking from a bong connected to a transparent tube.
Despite her stunning appearance, she was alone, and no man in the place approached her, not only because of her strong aura but also due to her intimidating looks.
Placing the Manhattan on the counter, Daemom stood up from his stool, cast a provocative glance over his shoulder at Zafir, and walked toward Bilqis's table.
Zafir clenched his teeth as he saw Daemom's teasing smile. His dark skin began to emit faint wisps of smoke, and his eyes turned into fiery orange orbs.
After a moment, he took a deep breath and regained his composure. The smoke and fire dissipated, but his eyes remained locked on the table where the Queen of Sheba sat. He refused to accept that his queen might fall for the charm of a young man.
"Here to keep me company?" Bilqis asked casually, exhaling a cloud of smoke. Her body, worthy of making a man lose his mind, was lazily sprawled on the soft, plush seat, accentuating her chest and waist. Her hair fell behind her in smooth, flowing waves.
She offered the bong with a playful smile.
Sitting beside her, Daemom took the bong without hesitation. He didn't make the same mistake with drinking; he took a small puff, and although visibly bothered by the smoke, he exhaled a gray cloud into the air.
"Hahaha~" Bilqis leaned closer, resting her shoulders against his and practically lying down next to him.
Holding Daemom's chin, she said lazily, "You need to guide the smoke. If too much gets into your lungs, you'll cough."
Looking at his face, Bilqis had to admit something—Daemom was truly handsome. His blonde hair looked like strands of gold, and those incredibly blue eyes made her heart race a little faster.
For a moment, she wondered how those eyes would look if they were filled with love for her. She wanted to see possessiveness replace the casual gaze, to see desire burning with a fierce flame in the dark night.
Suddenly, Bilqis's gaze fell on the serpent accompanying Daemom. The serpent was warily watching her hand, which was holding Daemom's chin, its mouth open and ready to strike at any moment.
"How cute, you're jealous," Bilqis said with a nostalgic smile, recalling a time when she used to look at someone she cared for with the same intensity. Unfortunately, time had cooled her heart; it wasn't so easy to make her feel jealous now.
Releasing Bilqis's hand, Daemom mirrored her gesture. He firmly held her delicate chin and leaned in dangerously close to her lips, whispering while gazing directly into her eyes, "Don't play with me. I'm not one of those men who fawn over you."
He then gently kissed her cheek, still holding her gaze, and reclined lazily back on the circular sofa.
"Daemom, don't get too close to that goddess; she's dangerous," Amara coiled around Daemom's neck, her voice filled with anger towards Bilqis and a hint of possessive jealousy.
She had finally gained a brother and didn't want some divine vixen to take him away from her at this moment.
Daemom noticed this and gave his blood pact companion a teasing smile. He stroked her scaly head and whispered close to her ear, "Don't worry, you'll always have a special place in my heart, Amara."
Amara felt a sweet and warm sensation from his words but still looked at him with a proud expression. "Of course, I would. I'm so incredible, how could anyone not like me?"
As Amara and Daemom spoke quietly, Bilqis touched her cheek and looked at the young man with surprise. Her lips involuntarily curved into a sensual smile.
She saw something in him that she hadn't seen in a man for a long time. Daemom gave her the impression of a charismatic king, someone who dared to do as he pleased.
To her, as an ancient queen, this was how a true king should behave. No true king was afraid; rather, a king should instill fear in his subjects. Making his subjects fear and revere him was the ideal for a monarch.
The kings of this era had long lost their power and had become at the mercy of their own subjects. Their subjects no longer feared their monarchs; people saw their kings as more of an interesting spectacle than something to be truly feared.
Bilqis leaned towards Daemom, despite the disapproving gaze of the serpent, and whispered sensually in his ear, "You've captured my interest, Daemom."
Daemom felt a shiver run through his body as he heard her voice, her warm breath lightly tickling his face.
He had to admit, Bilqis was worthy of being a goddess of beauty and sex. She was practically a deadly poison for any man, enchanting anyone with her charm.
If he weren't who he was, Daemom doubted he could escape unscathed from the Queen of Sheba's influence.
Suddenly, a buzzing sensation appeared at the nape of Daemom's neck. He followed the source and saw Zafir behind the bar, glaring at him with an unfriendly, even slightly murderous look. His yellow eyes seemed like blazing flames.
Flashing a friendly smile at the man, Daemom grasped Bilqis's slender waist and pulled her even closer, his hands sinking into her soft flesh.
Though surprised by the sudden move, Bilqis didn't resist and practically pressed half of her warm body against Daemom, her large breasts intentionally pressing against his chest.
If Zafir's gaze had been slightly murderous before, this time Daemom felt the man exuding a palpable killing intent. He even sensed the temperature of the room rising slightly at that moment.
Sensing this, Bilqis looked at Zafir with dissatisfaction, her eyes taking on a majestic and sacred quality. That look made Zafir step back in fear for a moment, but he quickly regained his composure and didn't dare to look at the Queen of Sheba again.
"Your consort?" Daemom leaned his lips close to her ear, whispering with a smile.
"It takes much more to be my consort. An Ifrit will definitely never be my consort," Bilqis replied, feeling his warm breath and the tight embrace around her waist.
Daemom couldn't help but feel a bit of pity for Zafir, but the feeling vanished as quickly as it came, replaced by the sensation of the warm, soft body pressed against his.
What did the misery of others have to do with him?
He pushed all other thoughts aside and focused on the goddess in his arms.