Novembris 20th, the night was buzzing with life; sounds of laughter filled the large clearing, surrounded by trees and light strung up on the trees, glittering up like stars in the clearing.
Chairs were set up with ribbons and a wide dance floor was set up in the middle, with refreshnts set at the side.
The large clearing was filled with island staff—won in elegant backless dresses and n in stylish outfits.
The won's backless dresses revealed a striking similarity—they all had bare backs where tattoos once resided, just like the n.
Loud music bood, accompanied by the won's flushed faces and the n's shy laughter and whispered gossip.
The two full moons bathed the clearing in silver light, their glow drowned out by the booming music.
Beasts road the island freely while their masters danced under the moonlight.
Cyra lay awake, the loud sounds reaching her ears and turned to Zane, who had his head on her thighs while tapping on his hologram screen.
"Love, shall we join the party?" Cyra asked as her hands ran through his hair; Zane felt comfortable and moved his head closer, looking up when he heard her question; he was quiet for a while, curiosity pooling in his eyes.
Rembering Cyra's hate for loud noise, he opened his mouth to reject but was stopped by Cyra's fingers on his lips.
"Go put on so clothes, we are going." His eyes widened, and he got up quickly; hugging her tightly, he happily went to his closet to choose so clothes. He was very curious about how this place celebrated its Souls Day.
Back then, they locked themselves in their hos, feeling it was a punishnt from the Goddess.
So he was surprised to find out they threw parties, so lasting for five full days, in celebration of the beast separating from their body.
Cyra got down from the bed and freshened up; she put on a black leather slit short gown, with her red hair falling at her back.
Her pale cleavage showed the tops of her breasts, and the dress hugged her figure, making her a tantalizing sight.
Zane straightened his clothes; he looked up and was dumbfounded; his mouth dropped open when he saw Cyra in a dress.
This can't be done; if she went out dressed like this, all those n's gazes would follow her around, spying on her delicate skin. His possessiveness reared its head.
"Wife, you're beautiful…what happened to your jeans and tops?" Zane's voice was calm, but his mind was thinking fast about how to make her change her clothes.
His eyes lingered on her pale toned legs and mouthwatering form, and his decision grew firr each passing seconds.
"Thank you love. I decided to dress up for the party." Cyra walked closer, fastening the last button on his shirt to ensure none of his chest was visible.
She felt his clothes made him look delicate with the right amount of firmness, her hands crept under his shirt, her fingers tracing his newly grown abs.
She bit her lip, tempted to rip his clothes off, too distracted to notice Zane's growing dilemma over her outfit.
"Wife…why don't you change." He couldn't help it but finally blurted out his intentions. Cyra's hands paused, and she looked into his eyes; a mischievous light flashed through her eyes, and her lips curled to the side.
"Love, what's wrong with my dress? I feel it fits well." Her tone carried a teasing lilt. Zane felt her questioning gaze on him and his expression was tinged with redness, he opened and closed his mouth, struggling to co up with words,
"Hmm?" Cyra's throaty question put pressure on him, and he blurted out with a flushed face.
"Those n will stare at my wife's body…" He paused when he saw Cyra's trembling shoulders, "I'm being serious—'' his lips were blocked by Cyra's lips; she kissed him gently and slowly, taking his breath away, releasing his lips, she looked into his watery daze eyes.
"Love, no matter who looks at , my heart is yours. As for my body…anyone I choose as a husband will always need your approval first." Cyra's serious grey eyes and sincere words ward his heart.
He nodded and held her creeping hands away from his stomach, "Why don't we forget about the party? Mm ~" Cyra's sultry voice whispered in his ear.
"No! we are going." He shouted to give his refusal more power against his failing willpower.
Cyra sighed, pulled her hands from his abs, and straightened his clothes. Together, they left the quiet mansion, encountering a dressed-up Viktor on the way, who stared at his wife in a silly, dumbstruck expression.
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