Emma firmly believed that neither Silas nor Lucien would ever be swayed by anyone's schemes. But the wicked had too many tricks up their sleeves—there was no way to guard against them all. Keeping such a dangerous person under the same roof was simply asking for trouble. And if the one at home right now really was an imposter, they could deal with it when the real one showed up. Emma rose from her chair. "Come with me. This Malrik is too dangerous. He can't stay in the manor any longer." … Downstairs, Merlin descended the staircase and noticed that Marcus' door was slightly ajar. Quietly, he peeked inside and saw Marcus lying in a crystal coffin, eyes closed, still as death, and slipped into the room without a sound. The place was bare except for the frosty coffin, the curtains drawn tight, leaving the air cold and oppressive. Merlin approached Marcus, staring at him with disdain. "Since you're already half-dead, why don't I do you a favor and send you off early?"As he spoke, he drew a dagger, its blade glinting with a cold, venomous light. It was one he had fed with poison—a toxin colorless, odorless, and undetectable once inside the body. This one is always half-dead anyway. He must have some fatal illness. I'll just nick his skin a little, and he'll die without anyone realizing it. Afterward, I'll heal the wound, and no one will ever find out how he died. They'll think he just succumbed to his sickness. A murderous gleam flickered in Merlin's eyes as he raised the dagger and sliced across the back of Marcus' hand. Beads of crimson blood welled up instantly. "Die, Marcus—" But then something felt wrong. No—wait… I poisoned him—why am I the one feeling pain? He looked down in shock. Though he had cut Marcus, three identical slashes had appeared on his own hand. "Ahhhh!" It burns! This… this is my poison! What the f*ck is happening?!Panicked, Merlin fumbled for the antidote and shoved it into his mouth, then grabbed a healing serum and smeared it over the wounds. Within moments, the pain faded, and his hand returned to normal. But Merlin refused to believe it. He switched to a clean dagger—no poison this time—and drew another line across Marcus' skin. Again, three identical wounds split open on his own hand. Only then did he understand—there was something deeply unnatural about Marcus. Any harm done to him rebounded upon the attacker. Merlin stared at Marcus as if he'd seen a ghost. Inside the crystal coffin, Marcus had waited patiently for a reaction. When none came, he finally opened his eyes with a faint sigh. "Done killing me?" "Ah!" Merlin jumped, startled. "Y-You weren't asleep?" "I was, until you woke me." Marcus looked at him impatiently. "Well? Are you still going to kill me or not? If not, get out. I'm trying to sleep." Useless. Actually thought that poison could finish him off. Marcus sighed inwardly, disappointed. "You just wait—I'll kill you sooner or later!" Merlin snapped and spun around to leave. The Beast God must've gone senile. Giving such a powerful ability to someone barely hanging onto life? What a waste. Clack! The door suddenly swung open. "Ms. Tibarn…" Merlin froze at the sight of Emma in the doorway, his face draining of color. "W-What are you doing here?" "What are you doing in Marcus' room?" Emma eyed him suspiciously. "I—I just came to talk to him." Before he could finish, Marcus appeared at the door behind him. "He came to kill me. But he couldn't bring himself to die, so he failed." "You tried to kill Marcus?" Emma's voice shook with fury and disbelief. Enchanter? More like a demon. "Lucien, seize him!" Among all her suitors, Emma had never encountered one this vicious. Kael might have been reckless, Damian deceitful, and Drake arrogant—but none of them had ever tried to harm another suitor. In a direct fight, Merlin was no match for Lucien. He didn't even have a chance to counterattack before Lucien had him pinned to the ground. "Ms. Tibarn," Merlin said hoarsely, eyes red with desperation, "I only wanted to stay by your side." "I can understand that," Emma said coldly, "but you shouldn't have schemed against me—and you should never have tried to hurt Marcus." She could tolerate him pretending to be meek, even acting pitiful—but not this cruelty. If Marcus hadn't possessed such a strange ability, he'd already be dead. And what if it hadn't been Marcus this time, but Corvin or Edric? The thought alone made her blood run cold. Silas looked down at the kneeling man with murder in his eyes. "Emy, what do you want us to do with him?" Emma took a deep breath. "I've already dissolved the match. He's yours to deal with." "Gladly." Silas smiled. Just then, Corvin and Edric came to tell everyone breakfast was ready—only to find Malrik pinned to the floor beneath Lucien's boot.