Dark Lord Seduction System: Taming Wives, Daughters, Aunts, and CEOs novel Chapter 259

Chapter 259: When Death Bows to Desire

The bullet punched through Eros’s skull like it was made of paper, brain matter erupting across the concrete in violent splashes that looked like abstract art painted with the essence of life itself. His body collapsed with the wet slap of meat hitting stone, blood spreading in a crimson halo around the ruin of his head.

Agent Ellis lowered his rifle, professional satisfaction cutting sharp lines into his face. "Threat terminated. Move on the—"

The words strangled to silence as the corpse at his feet began to do something impossible.

[DING! HOST 1st LIFE TERMINATION CONFIRMED]

[DEPLOYING FINAL PROTOCOL: LUST INCARNATE]

[ALL LIMITATIONS REMOVED]

[WARNING: ALTERATION IMMINENT]

Rose-colored radiance bled from the shattered skull, seeping upward like liquid fire that danced against gravity. The glow poured into ruined flesh, stitching bone back together, reweaving gray matter into alien patterns, rewriting synapses with designs that belonged to nightmares rather than biology.

His features shifted as though sculpted by furious, unseen hands. Cheekbones sharpened to razors. His jaw realigned into a blade of living flesh. Lips curved into a cruel geometry of contempt.

When his eyes snapped open, they were no longer human. Pools of liquid silver glared outward, reflections of every fear whispered in the dark—depths filled with the rage of every slight, every humiliation, every weakness that had ever scarred his existence.

The chamber thickened. The air grew heavy, burning hot enough to make every breath feel like drowning in acid. Invisible heatwaves distorted the space around him, warping perception.

Pheromones detonated outward, not as allure but as sovereignty—raw dominance saturating the chamber. The scent was primal, predatory, the chemical declaration of a beast that owned this space and everything in it.

Ellis’s rifle twitched. Sloane gagged on air that felt too dense to swallow. Kane’s jaw clenched as a thin line of sweat broke across his brow.

Eros was no longer a man. He was something remade in wrath and lust, something that had shed its disguise of flesh and stopped pretending to be human.

And in that instant, every living thing in the chamber understood the same terrible truth:

They hadn’t killed him.

They had unleashed him.

Eros rose from death like a demon carved out of blood and fury, every motion a seamless blend of grace and inevitability. Heat rippled from his skin, not warmth but the searing promise of devastation barely restrained.

Kane’s weapon slid from nerveless fingers, his body betraying instincts older than language. Pupils blew wide, breath came shallow—prey caught in the gaze of an apex predator.

"Jesus... fucking Christ," Sloane whispered, his shotgun trembling. Training manuals, combat drills, decades of doctrine—none of it mattered. This wasn’t in any briefing.

Eros smiled. It was beautiful in the same way an avalanche was beautiful: irresistible, merciless, impossible to survive.

"You killed me," he said, voice vibrating with undertones of gravel and broken glass. "Now let me return the favor properly."

Black rose petals bloomed beneath his feet, their edges glinting like razors.

Ellis snapped his rifle to his shoulder, desperate reflex overriding reason. But Eros was already there—blur, displacement, inevitability. One hand clamped over Ellis’s mouth, the other raising a knife forged of crystallized hatred.

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