---- 227. A COLD-BLOODED CRIME NARRATOR Celia threw the heavy jewelry box off the table in a fit of rage. Her tent was a complete mess. He had defied the entire camp for a vampire. Didn't even care to hide the fact that he was obsessed with that whore. Everyone knew she was in love with him! "You reject me for a disgusting bloodsucker?! Ugh, damn it!" She hurled a flower vase at random, but with such bad luck it almost hit the poor woman trembling in a corner.

"YOU!" Celia suddenly remembered her. "You told me those poisonous herbs would ruin her skin, you idiot!" She lunged at the witch like a rabid dog and began slapping her. No matter how much the girl begged her in tears, trying to explain it wasn't her fault... ---- The bribed warrior was already dead, and Celia had no one left to blame.

to heal herself with magic so no one would find out, especially not the Lord. But this time, Celia's fury was completely out of control. All she could see were flashes of Dracomir with Victoria. That fierce desire she had never seen in his eyes when looking at any other

on, lying on the floor. There was something twistedly pleasurable about sinking her claws into her and punching her everywhere. She let out all her frustration until she realized

stained her claws. All that was left was a crumpled body lying on the dark carpet. "No... no, I killed her... this can't be... Dad's going to be furious..." she trembled, finally fearing the consequences

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