I Was Reborn in Another World, But I Awoke Inside a Corpse

Chapter 181: What We Are Now

Morning in Lilyshade arrived with no urgency.

The sky was a quiet rose-gold, stretching endlessly above the crystalline dome of Asmodeus's sanctuary. Gentle wind stirred through the garden outside, rustling petals and perfume into the stillness of the chamber.

Inside, Isaac sat at the edge of the bed, half-draped in silver-threaded sheets. His chest was bare, his hair tousled, and his gaze distant—watching the early light filter through the crystal windows with a calm he hadn't known he needed.

Behind him, Asmodeus sat quietly.

Her robe of amethyst silk slipped from one shoulder, hair flowing like gold spun through moonlight. She leaned against a pillow, one leg tucked beneath her, her posture relaxed but her eyes intent on him.

She didn't speak.

Not at first.

She just… watched.

The silence between them wasn't strained—it was sacred.

Then she asked softly, "Did you sleep well?"

Isaac gave a faint, almost-smile. "Better than I have in years."

She nodded once, as if the answer mattered more than she let on.

"I never thought I'd let anyone this close again," she murmured, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear.

Isaac turned to face her fully.

"Why me?"

She hesitated—but only for a breath.

"Because you never tried to take anything from me. Not my time. Not my throne. Not my body. Even when I gave—you didn't reach."

He watched her.

"And now?"

Asmodeus smiled faintly.

"Now, I want you to."

He stood and crossed the small space between them.

She didn't move as he approached. Didn't shield herself in seduction or wit. She just looked at him like she had nothing left to hide.

Isaac sat on the bed beside her, close enough for their knees to touch. His hand found hers. Their fingers interlocked without resistance.

"I'm not good at this," he said quietly.

"Neither am I," she answered. "But I want to be."

He searched her eyes.

"What are we now?"

She leaned in, close enough that her breath brushed his cheek.

"Lovers," she whispered. "If you'll have me."

He didn't answer immediately.

Instead, he reached up with his free hand, gently tracing his fingertips along her cheek. She leaned into his touch, her eyes softening.

"Then say it again," he said.

She smiled, something luminous and real behind it.

"You are my lover."

He exhaled—and for once, it wasn't weariness.

It was release.

"You're mine," he said. "Not in possession. In truth."

She reached for him, hand rising to cradle the back of his neck as she drew closer.

Their lips met.

Soft at first.

Testing.

Then deeper—gentle but full, as if neither could afford to be careless with this.

It wasn't lust.

It was trust, sealed in silence and warmth.

When they parted, their foreheads pressed together, Asmodeus closed her eyes and whispered,

"I've waited an eternity to be kissed without being claimed."

Isaac breathed, voice low and steady,

"And I never wanted to kiss someone I didn't understand."

She smiled again.

No longer the Queen of Lust.

Just Asmodeus.

The woman who let someone inside the walls she once swore would never fall.

They didn't say more.

They didn't need to.

Because they knew.

This wasn't the start of temptation.

It was the beginning of something far rarer.

Something they could both choose…

Every day forward.

Together.