"Tell ," Selvara repeated, her voice quieter now—almost a whisper, barely louder than the crackle of the dying fire in the hearth. "How did you know the Pale Hands were going to attack?"
Aiden didn't answer right away.
He simply tilted his head and pressed his lips to the sensitive side of her neck—slow, deliberate, letting the kiss linger until he felt the tiny tremor race through her body.
"My Lord..." she breathed, the words caught sowhere between protest and plea, her tone already softening at the edges.
He humd low in his throat, the sound vibrating against her skin, amused and predatory all at once. Then he dragged his mouth downward along the elegant column of her throat—soft open-mouthed kisses at first, then a light scrape of teeth, just enough to make her pulse jump beneath his lips.
Selvara's breath hitched audibly. Her fingers flexed against his forearms before curling tighter, nails pressing faint half-moons into his skin.
"You're distracting ," she muttered, though the accusation sounded far less convincing when delivered on a shaky exhale. A flush had already crept up her throat and settled high on her cheekbones, darkening the silver sheen of her skin.
Aiden chuckled—dark, warm, rich enough that she felt it rumble through his chest into hers.
"That's the point, Selva," he murmured against the delicate hollow at the base of her throat. "You ask such dangerous questions when you're already trembling in my lap."
He kissed that hollow next—then dragged his tongue in one slow, wet line back up to where her pulse hamred frantically. Selvara gasped, the sound soft and involuntary, her whole body arching just a fraction toward him.
After a long mont of simply breathing her in—lavender, salt, and the faint tallic edge that always clung to her when her magic simred close to the surface—he finally spoke.
"I t the Pale Hands leader before the auction," he said, voice low and almost casual, as though he were comnting on the vintage of wine they'd shared earlier. "Not by coincidence. It happened during that previous encounter."
Selvara stiffened slightly in his arms, the languid lt of her body pausing for just a heartbeat.
Aiden felt the change imdiately. His hands slid upward—unhurried—until his palms cupped the heavy undersides of her breasts through the thin silk of her gown. He lifted them gently, thumbs brushing over nipples that were already tight and straining against the fabric.
They pebbled harder under the slow circles he drew.
Selvara whimpered—soft, helpless, the sound slipping out before she could catch it.
"You... t him?" Her voice trembled, caught between disbelief and the rising heat he was stoking. "And you didn't tell ? Not once?"
Aiden answered by kissing her neck again—this ti open-mouthed, sucking lightly until a faint red bloom appeared against her pale skin.
"I found sothing unusual in my pocket after that first encounter," he continued, thumbs never pausing in their lazy tornt of her nipples. "A strange crystal, no bigger than a quail's egg. The System identified it imdiately: a summoning gem."
Selvara's head fell back against his shoulder, baring more of her throat to him. Her breathing had turned shallow, quick, almost panting.
"Why didn't you tell ?" she demanded—though the words erged breathy, fractured, closer to a moan than any real anger.
Aiden's hands squeezed more firmly now, lifting the lush weight of her breasts, kneading until soft flesh spilled over the edges of his fingers.
"Because," he murmured, lips brushing the shell of her ear, "I realized very quickly that he wasn't trying to kill ."
He caught her earlobe between his teeth—gently—then soothed the sting with a slow lick.
"He was testing , Selva. Gauging what kind of man I really am when no one else is watching."
A low, needy moan slipped from her throat. Her hips shifted restlessly in his lap, seeking friction she couldn't quite find yet.
"So instead of running to the church, or to the Queen, or even to you," Aiden went on, his voice dropping into sothing darker, more intimate, "I waited."
His right hand began a slow descent—fingers tracing the delicate dip of her navel through the silk, then slipping beneath the hem of her dress. When he found the slick, swollen heat between her thighs, he groaned against her neck.
"Gods, you're soaked already," he rasped, parting her folds with two fingers and stroking upward in one torturously slow glide.
Selvara gasped sharply, spine bowing. "My Lord—"
"And when the System inford that the next auction window was about to open," he continued, sliding one thick finger inside her—slow, deliberate, curling just enough to drag along that sensitive spot that made her thighs jump—"I activated the gem."
He pushed deeper, adding a second finger on the next slow thrust. His thumb found her clit and began circling with maddening, feather-light precision.
"I called the leader myself."
Selvara's hips bucked hard—riding his hand instinctively now, breasts bouncing softly with each desperate roll.
"You... summoned him?" The words cracked—half pleasure, half incredulity.
"Yes."
He kissed her neck again—open-mouthed, sucking hard enough this ti to leave a second blooming mark, claiming.
"When he materialized in the alley behind, he didn't attack," Aiden said, voice rougher now. "He simply tilted his head and asked, very calmly, 'You finally called ?'"
Selvara moaned—loud, shaless—head lolling back against his shoulder so completely that her silver hair spilled like liquid moonlight across his chest.
"I told him the truth," Aiden continued, fingers curling harder inside her, stroking that spot relentlessly until her inner walls fluttered. "Or at least the version I wanted him to hear. I said I knew exactly where the next auction would be held. And when."
Her thighs began to tremble violently—muscles clenching and releasing around his thrusting fingers.
"He laughed," Aiden recalled, a dark edge of satisfaction in his tone. "Not loudly—just this dry. Then he asked the obvious question: 'If you know, why not stop it? Why not play the shining hero."
He drove his fingers deeper—harder—making her cry out, sharp and broken.
"I told him I was looking for soone," Aiden said. "Soone who would only appear at the auction. And that I had no intention of causing unnecessary trouble for Her Majesty."
Selvara's nails raked down his forearms, leaving thin red trails. Her whole body was shaking now—poised on a razor's edge.
"I refused to tell him anything more," Aiden whispered against her racing pulse.
He kissed that fluttering point—then bit down lightly, possessive.
"And he liked that," Aiden growled. "He said I didn't sound like one of the usual self-righteous types who think they're saving the world. I sounded like a man with personal business. Greedy. Selfish. Practical."
Selvara's cry rose higher—hips grinding frantically against his palm, chasing the pressure of his thumb on her clit.
"So in the end," Aiden finished, voice low and triumphant, "the leader agreed. He would bring the Pale Hands to the auction. Chaos would erupt. And I would get what I ca for."
He curled his fingers brutally hard—thumb pressing down in one firm, unrelenting stroke—and Selvara shattered.
"My Lord—!"
Her pussy clamped down like a vice around his fingers—pulsing, fluttering, gushing slick heat that coated his hand and wrist. Her whole body convulsed—breasts heaving, back arched to the breaking point, silver hair whipping across his face as she ca apart with a long, broken sob of pleasure.
Aiden held her through every shuddering wave—lips trailing soft kisses along her jaw, her cheek, the corner of her mouth—murmuring praise in a low, soothing rumble.
"Good girl, Selva... that's it... give it all to ... let go, love, I've got you..."
When the tremors finally began to ease, he withdrew his fingers slowly—carefully—bringing them glistening to his lips. He licked them clean with slow, deliberate swipes of his tongue, eyes never leaving hers.
Selvara—still panting, cheeks flushed crimson, silver strands clinging damply to her temples—turned her head just enough to et his gaze.
Her eyes were glassy, wide, shimring with sothing between awe and adoration.
"You..." she managed, voice utterly wrecked.
Aiden pressed a tender kiss to her temple.
"You had already been several steps ahead of everyone else," she finished quietly, wonder threading through every word. "Long before the auction even began."
He smiled—small, private, almost boyish for a mont—then leaned in and kissed her properly.
Slow.
Deep.
Tender at first, then claiming—tongue sliding against hers in lazy, possessive strokes.
When he finally pulled back, he rested his forehead against hers, noses brushing.
"I protect what's mine," he said simply, the words quiet but heavy with finality.
Selvara stared at him for several long heartbeats—searching his face as though seeing him for the first ti.
Then she buried her face against the side of his throat, hiding the renewed flush that climbed her cheeks.
"Tch..." she muttered, voice muffled against his skin. "You're absolutely infuriating, you know that?"
But her arms slid around his neck anyway—wrapping tight, holding him close.
And she didn't let go.
Not for a very long ti.
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END OF CHAPTER : 228 : FEW STEPS AHEAD!
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