While her eyes were focused on his fra, Jolthar felt the bandages were making him feel irritated. So he tore the bandages off, his muscles were now exposed, revealing a network of scars covering his back. In the sunlight, the scars seed to glisten like silver threads woven into his skin, adding to his mysterious allure.
She bit her lips, feeling the youthful energy from him; she was not the type of woman who would hide her feelings. And she outright showed her lust in her eyes, and the gaze told a lot about it.
Belan, who was standing beside her, watched her and grunted. She couldn't believe that her mother was lusting after him, a man who she desperately wanted to kill.
Lysandra cleared her throat, which made Raayani compose herself.
"Did you save a little girl a few days ago?" she finally asked, her voice smooth but carrying an undertone of curiosity.
"Maybe it's been weeks by now. There was a woman with her—Katerina."
Jolthar tilted his head slightly, his expression montarily softening as he nodded. "Yes, I did." He rembered the little girl who called him papa, and her small face popped up in his head. He hoped that he could et her again.
Raayani exhaled a breath she hadn't realized she was holding. Relief flickered across her face, though it was quickly masked by her usual calm deanour. Your journey continues at empire
"Thank you," she said, her tone genuine. "That child is important to us."
At her words, both Belan and Lysandra turned to her with questioning looks.
"What's this about?" Belan asked.
Raayani glanced at them briefly before explaining, "Jolthar saved a girl and a woman from the Nynthralls. That girl... she's a child like you. If they'd gotten her, it would have been disastrous."
Her explanation was brief, but it was enough to make Belan and Lysandra understand the gravity of what Jolthar had done. Belan instantly realized that the child was an offspring of a deity. Both of them turned their gazes to him, now filled with a mix of respect and curiosity.
For the first ti in a long while, Raayani found herself smiling—a genuine, warm smile that felt foreign on her lips. "Boy," she said, her voice laced with humour and sothing sharper, "you're an interesting child."
Jolthar raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed with the word "child."
"Interesting, huh? That's one way to put it," he replied, his tone teasing.
"And I'm not a child, by the way."
Raayani let out a soft laugh, her gaze unwavering as it lingered on him, to be precise, his packed muscles on his abdon and his fra. He was standing with only his pants on.
He was right, of course.
He wasn't a child, no matter how often she called him one. He was a man, one who carried himself with an effortless confidence that intrigued her. His wit was sharp, his power undeniable, and the way he moved—controlled yet unpredictable—hinted at a mind that was as dangerous as his strength.
Her eyes lingered a mont longer on his form, noting the subtle ripple of his muscles as he shifted his stance. He stands tall enough to look down at most, but not so much that he overshadows. A body honed for battle, but not without elegance. That silver-grey hair, wild and untad, suits him. Just like his personality... untad and unpredictable.
The thought amused her more than it should have.
He was unlike anyone she had encountered in a long ti. Most n either cowered in her presence or tried too hard to prove themselves.
But Jolthar? He was different. He didn't flinch under her gaze, nor did he make a show of his strength. He was clever, but not arrogant; strong, but not boastful. And that smirk of his—half-charming, half-infuriating—only made him more intriguing.
A bold idea began to form in her mind, and before she could second-guess herself, she acted on it. Life was too short—even for soone like , she thought—to let interesting opportunities slip by.
Raayani's sharp eyes remained locked on Jolthar as he stood before her, his figure illuminated by the fading light of the evening. There was sothing raw and untad about him that caught her attention, sothing that refused to be bound by convention or expectation. Her lips curved into a sly smile, one that held the confidence of a woman who had seen and conquered much of the world—and enjoyed every mont of it.
The tension in the air was palpable as Belan and Lysandra shifted uneasily beside her, sensing that Raayani was up to sothing. But Raayani wasn't the kind of woman who hesitated or played coy. She had spent her life leading, commanding, and taking what she wanted.
This mont was no exception.
Her smile widened as she stepped closer to Jolthar, her presence radiating authority and charm. She crossed her arms and tilted her head slightly, her long, dark, sky-blue hair catching the light like liquid silk.
"Jolthar," she began, her voice smooth but tinged with the boldness that defined her. "I've decided sothing."
Jolthar raised an eyebrow, the corners of his mouth quirking up into a faint smirk. "Oh? And what might that be?"
Her piercing gaze didn't waver. "You're going to be my man."
The statent was delivered without hesitation, blunt and unapologetic. It hung in the air like a challenge, daring him to respond.
Belan and Lysandra froze, their jaws practically hitting the ground. Even Jolthar, usually unshaken, looked montarily caught off guard.
"Your... what?" he asked, his voice tinged with disbelief.
"My man," Raayani repeated, her tone unwavering and laced with an almost playful edge. "I've decided I like you, and I'm not one to dance around the obvious. You've got power, wit, and... well, let's not ignore the fact that you're easy on the eyes."
Her gaze travelled over him with shaless appraisal before locking onto his face again. "And that makes you perfect for ."The audacity of her words was matched only by the confidence in her stance. She was utterly unbothered by the shocked silence of those around her, as though this was the most natural thing in the world.
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