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XXlV

⭑. ݁ ˖₊˚✩.𖥔 ݁ ˖๋ ࣭ ⭑.𖥔 ݁ ˖₊˚✩.𖥔 ݁ ˖๋ ࣭

Hadeon felt the monster within him stirring as he turned Elysia’s body around. In an instant, her buttock$, pale as moonlight, were exposed in the dimly lit changing room. The ridiculous nun’s habit she hoped would protect her offered no defense against him.

Grinding his teeth, Hadeon prepared to dive once more into the depths of pleasure. From the moment he drew the curtain, he had released enough pheromones to ensure that Elysia’s entrance was wet and ready. Looking down at her, a smile of anticipation played on his lips.

“Yes, Elysia. You’re doing well.”

He patted her waist through her clothes, eager to plunge into her tight, suffocating flesh. Just as he was about to penetrate her in the same courteous manner as before, a piercing cry stopped him in his tracks.

“Ah…! Huh…!”

The sound tore through his eardrums, jolting him as if an invisible blindfold and earplugs had been forcibly removed. Hearing Elysia’s sobs, Hadeon felt as if he were thrown into a crevasse in the middle of a glacier, bringing him back to full consciousness.

He was as startled as a nobleman caught hastily coupling with a dancer backstage. He lowered her skirt, covering her exposed body, and held her close.

Upon seeing the tears streaming from her large eyes, confirming his suspicions, Hadeon frowned.

Elysia was crying in fear.

“Why are you doing this again?” he asked, barely containing his desire as he gripped her delicate shoulders.

The past three days had tested Hadeon’s patience to its limits. Each night, he struggled to quell his body, yearning for the intoxicating pleasure he felt when he first took Elysia. He woke each morning tormented by headaches and nightmares, unconsciously longing for the strange comfort he felt waking beside her. Despite it being only three days, he wrestled with the extreme withdrawal symptoms, eagerly awaiting this moment.

The moment he would have this human woman again.

In that brief moment, Elysia was a mess. Her once immaculate hair was disheveled, pins loosened and strands falling out from being pressed against the wall. A few buttons had popped off under his uncontrolled strength, scattered on the floor, and her skirt was wrinkled, bearing evidence of their interrupted encounter. But the worst was her face. Tears of fear and dread streaked her cheeks, pooling at her chin.

“I’m sorry for breaking the mood. I didn’t mean to make such a loud noise. Please, continue.”

Most astonishing were her words, her lips parting to apologize, even attempting to turn back around.

Feeling his mood plummet from its peak, Hadeon swiftly lifted Elysia. She whimpered and squirmed as he carried her to the large round sofa where he had sat moments before, roughly pushing aside the curtain. The designer had wisely vanished from the shop.

With a sigh, Hadeon dropped onto the sofa, Elysia’s small body in his arms. Her eyes widened in fear, making her look like a deer—a perfect prey, helpless against him.

“You’re getting better at tormenting me,” he muttered, wiping away her tears with a finger. The mere touch reignited his desire to flip her over and dive into her, but surprisingly, he maintained full control. Her tears had acted as a powerful brake, cooling his arousal and bringing his mind back to reason.

Why did I stop when I heard her sobs? he wondered, frowning. He could have forced himself on her; she was his mistress, after all. A consensual lover, consensual sex—there was no need to worry about her feelings, no need for sweet words. Elysia had proposed this relationship.

But Hadeon realized a startling fact: seeing her scared and terrified disgusted him profoundly.

He wasn’t surprised by his reaction; it was hard to imagine anyone not fearing a top predator like him. How could a fragile human like Elysia not fear the lion Hadeon Lark?

Such a moment might never come. This realization confused and annoyed Hadeon. And he recognized the root of his unpleasant suspicion since that night.

“Listen, Elysia. You’re my mistress, not a street whore.”

He started calmly, addressing the shivering woman.

“So, if you expect me to blame you for what just happened, you’d have to do something extreme like die and come back to life. You did nothing wrong.”

Hadeon added with a groan, “Please, for the love of God, stop crying. It’s driving me crazy.”

Elysia, eyes wide with disbelief, hastily wiped away her tears. Hadeon’s mood improved slightly, but the issue wasn’t truly resolved.

He waited patiently for Elysia to calm down, an annoyingly long time. When her heartbeat finally slowed and she met his gaze, he spoke.

His eyes gleamed, revealing his fangs.

“Now, answer me properly, Elysia. You can say a name, a family name, or a symbol—anything. I need to know.”

He asked in a deep, menacing voice.

“Who is the bastard who makes your skin crawl at a mere touch?”

His voice was laced with murderous intent, promising to bury whoever she named.

Elysia’s pupils dilated in shock, more horrified than when he was about to take her in that degrading position.

The touch of a beast on her bare skin was an indescribable trauma for Elysia, a result of the baron’s experiments. She couldn’t even dream of wearing beautiful dresses like other young ladies, always hiding in fear that the beasts would discover the drug-like sensation of her skin. She lived a life as cautious as walking on tiptoe through the dark corridors, constantly aware of the lurking danger.

He’s found out.

Without her asking, Hadeon read her expression and replied.

“Isn’t it absurd not to know? Just moments ago, I was too crazed with the thought of coupling with you again to notice, but now it strikes me as odd. You claimed to have slept with countless other beasts but are so insensitive to pheromone marks? It’s a ridiculous lie you’ve just disproven yourself.”

Elysia moaned as if suffocated by his mocking deduction.

“Tell me, Elysia. Did you think I wouldn’t know if you lied? Why did you pretend to be a worn-out woman? The truth is, you recoil at the mere touch of any beast, including me.”

Tears welled up in Elysia’s eyes again.

Finally, he knew her truth, but the moment wasn’t as dire or sorrowful as she had imagined. Instead, she felt a strange joy that he finally understood her. Elysia shivered at the contradiction she had created.

Seeing her about to cry again, Hadeon felt exasperated.

Why that expression again?

Elysia’s tear-streaked face made him feel parched, her faint wrinkles irritating him. He wanted to smooth them out, but she would flinch and withdraw. Hadeon decided on a different approach.

“Fine. If you’re determined not to speak, I’ll respect that. Extracting a confession doesn’t always require threats or torture.”

⭑. ݁ ˖₊˚✩.𖥔 ݁ ˖๋ ࣭ ⭑.𖥔 ݁ ˖₊˚✩.𖥔 ݁ ˖๋ ࣭