The memory of their passionate encounter from earlier that evening still lingered in the air as Esther moved through the dim candlelight of the room. She pulled on a pair of sleek black leather pants, tucking them into tall boots that laced up to her knee. Over her fitted, short vest she adjusted the clasps with practiced ease, her blonde hair falling loosely over one shoulder. Satisfied, she crossed the room and gently shook Thor's shoulder.
"Thor. Get up. It's midnight."
He groaned, rolling over with the stubborn resistance of someone who had no intention of moving. "I would not have even considered waking up at midnight to go train," he mumbled into the furs.
"Later at night is when the higher-level monsters come out," Esther said flatly, crossing her arms. "Fighting low-level monsters isn't going to help you achieve fast results. You'll plateau before you even begin."
Thor cracked one eye open. "...That actually makes sense." He sat up slowly, scrubbing a hand over his face.
But as he reached for his gear, the humor faded from his expression. "I can't help feeling anxious though," he admitted quietly, looking down at his hands. "I almost lost my life with that orc. If you hadn't shown up when you did..."
Esther was quiet for a moment. Then she sighed — not with impatience, but with something softer. She reached out and took his hand in hers, giving it a firm, grounding squeeze.
"The difference," she said, meeting his eyes, "is that I am with you now. So if I feel you are in any danger at all, I will step in. Without hesitation." She gave his hand a confident nudge. "You won't face anything alone tonight."
Thor held her gaze for a beat longer than necessary, then nodded.
The forest at midnight was a different world entirely. The canopy swallowed what little moonlight filtered through, and the underbrush rustled with things that didn't bother hiding anymore once the sun went down.
Esther moved through it like she belonged there.
They hadn't gone far when a cluster of goblins emerged from behind a rotting log — three of them, small and snarling, their yellow eyes catching the dark. Esther stepped back without a word, arms folded, watching.
Thor gripped the pair of dual daggers he'd been given and lunged.
The speed of it even surprised him. The strength behind each slash felt foreign — raw and instinctive — like something had been unlocked in his muscles without his knowledge. Two goblins dropped before the third could screech. He finished it quickly, chest heaving, staring down at his hands.
"H-How was I able to do that?" he gasped.
Master. The familiar voice of Lilith surfaced in Esther's mind, cool and precise. I took the liberty of arranging an additional skill on your behalf — one aligned with your goal of restoring your offspring and rebuilding the Vampire race. Each time you are intimate with someone of the opposite sex, their strength will increase rapidly until it matches or surpasses your own level.
Esther blinked. What exactly do you mean by levels?
Upon your arrival in this world, your rank was already established at Goddess Tier. It is the ceiling of what exists here.
Esther's gaze drifted to Thor, who was inspecting the dagger with wide eyes, still processing what his body had just done.
Before any physical contact with you, Thor ranked among the lowest in his entire clan, Lilith continued. However, since your skinship has begun, his rank has already climbed to mid-level tier.
So my body — my fluids — have the ability to elevate my partners' levels? Esther thought back slowly. Then why is he only at mid-level? And what about the rest of the clan? Where do they stand?
Nearly everyone in the tribe sits at mid-level as well, Lilith replied. Though for reasons I have yet to fully determine, they have come to believe they are high-level. As for Thor — he remains at mid-tier because you have not yet been fully intimate with him. Once intercourse occurs, his growth will accelerate sharply. And in exchange, you will absorb one of his abilities.
Esther watched as Thor squared off against an orc that lumbered out of the shadows — one nearly identical in size to the beast that had nearly killed him weeks ago. This time, he dispatched it with measured, efficient strikes. Barely flinching.
She exhaled slowly through her nose.
All of this, she thought, almost to herself, so I can bring back the Vampire race. She reached up and scratched absently at her blonde hair. I suppose your methods have their merits, Lilith. Though mine work just fine, for the record.
"Esther!" Thor's voice broke through her thoughts. He was jogging toward her, eyes bright, a wide grin splitting his face. "Did you see that?! I did it!"
He swept her off her feet before she could respond, arms wrapping around her as he spun her in a full circle. Esther let out a short, startled sound — then, once he set her down, she lifted her hand and pressed it to the top of his head, ruffling the thick mess of his hair.
"Yes," she said, and the warmth in her voice was genuine. "You did very well." Her eyes softened as she looked up at him. "But you're only just getting started, you know. We still have a long night ahead of us."
"Right." Thor straightened up, rolling his shoulders back — but his gaze lingered on her face, something quieter moving through it. "I might actually be able to do this. I really believe it's all because you fell into my life."
Esther held his gaze for a moment. Then she stepped forward, took his face in both hands, and pressed her lips to his.
Thor kissed her back without hesitation — mouth parting, tilting into her, his tongue meeting hers as she deepened it. Heat built between them, unhurried and certain. Esther sucked gently on his tongue, her fingers curling against his jaw.
Then a growl cut through the trees.
They broke apart.
A mid-level lioness had emerged from the dark, golden eyes fixed on Thor, lips pulled back from her teeth.
Esther stepped aside, and the smile that curved her lips was nothing short of fierce. "That's the spirit. Now — show me what you can do."
Thor turned to face the beast. He drew in a slow breath, then let out a roar — low and resonant at first, building until it rattled the branches overhead and sent the lioness staggering mid-step, her body locking as the paralyzing force of it swept through her. She stood frozen, teeth bared, unable to move.
Thor closed the distance in one fluid motion. He gripped the lioness by the head with both hands — and with a single, decisive movement, brought it down hard against the earth.
Silence.
"That was excellent, Thor," Esther said, moving forward to assess the body with a practiced eye. "The carcass can be used for food. The head would make a fitting tribute to the Chief."
"I want to keep going," Thor said, already scanning the tree line.
Esther watched him — the set of his jaw, the steadiness in his stance — and reached out to run her hand gently along the fur at his shoulder. "You need your energy. It's alright to take a break."
Thor turned to look at her, and something in the lines of his expression shifted — softened into something unguarded. "How did I end up with you?" he said quietly. "You become more dear to me every time you speak. I already submit myself to you completely. And I feel as though, as time goes on... it will only grow deeper. As deep as the universe itself."
He turned and pressed his face gently into the curve of her arms.
Esther was still for a moment. Then she wrapped her arms around him, holding his wolf form close against her.
"We still have a few more steps," she murmured, "before you are completely mine."
Thor's devotion for her only grew deeper from that moment — a love he had never anticipated taking root in his heart, blooming quietly in the dark between one battle and the next.
They ventured deeper into the woods as the night wore on. Monsters and beasts emerged in waves — ranging from middle-level to high — and Thor met each one with growing confidence. Esther worked efficiently alongside him, harvesting what she could from each creature they felled: cuts of meat for meals, pelts for clothing, bones and claws that could be shaped into weapons. Nothing was wasted.
And sure enough — Thor was getting stronger. Not gradually. Rapidly.
Three months passed.
Somewhere in a sun-dappled clearing, beneath the gnarled roots of an ancient tree, a much larger and more powerfully built werewolf had a vampire pinned gently beneath him — her back against soft earth, one hand flung above her head, the other gripping the back of his.
"Ahh... Thor—!" Esther's voice broke on his name as he slid his tongue between her folds, pressing deep, tapping the inner walls with devastating precision. Two of his thick fingers pumped in and out of her in a slow, deliberate rhythm.
The months in the forest had done more than sharpen Thor's combat skills. As his strength grew, so did the hunger between them — an undeniable pull they had long since stopped trying to resist. They couldn't keep their hands off each other. Didn't bother pretending otherwise.
Thor listened to the sounds she made like they were music composed just for him. His free hand found himself, stroking in time with her rhythm, unable to help it.
He drove his fingers deeper, curling them — and Esther's back arched off the ground as the third peak crested and broke, sweet and trembling, her hips rolling against his mouth as he took everything she gave him.
"Mm— ah— ah—!!" Her hand tightened in his hair.
When she finally caught her breath enough to speak, her face was flushed, her gaze glassy with lust. "I'm... I'm almost getting to the point where I won't be able to wait much longer," she admitted breathlessly. "I was going to surprise you after the tournament. But I'm getting to the point where I need it — need you inside me." She looked up at him with an urgency she didn't bother to hide. "Thor."
He held her gaze as he slowly withdrew his fingers. He brought them to his lips, licking them clean without breaking eye contact, then spoke in a low, deliberate voice. "Then keep it that way. After I win the tournament, I will make sure you are thoroughly taken care of — as much as you want, for as long as you want." A slow, wolfish smile crossed his face. "Does that sound like a plan... wife?"
"W— wife?!" Her voice pitched upward — then broke into a gasp as he thrust his fingers back in, deeper and rougher than before. "AHH — mm — go harder—!"
Thor obeyed, picking up the pace, watching her come undone with dark, satisfied eyes. His other hand worked faster at himself, matching her movements. He thought distantly that this alone was enough to make him want to win the tournament — just to claim what he already knew was his.
"Yes," he said quietly. "My wife." He shifted, moving to her side without pulling away from her. "Would you take me into your mouth now? I won't enter you — not yet. But what you give me like this... it's more than enough for now."
Esther, still gasping from the rhythm of his fingers, reached for him. She wrapped her lips around his tip first — a slow, deliberate tease — then took him in fully.
"Ugh— Esther—" The sound that left him was raw.
Her tongue worked along his shaft, dragging the skin back and forth, the heat of her mouth pulling him under. Thor's hips rolled forward instinctively. His free hand found her breast, fingers closing around it, thumb and forefinger twisting her nipple until she moaned around him.
"Esther— your tongue—" He couldn't finish the sentence. He rocked into her mouth, once, twice — and then shuddered hard as he released, hips buckling, burying himself as deep as she would take him. She swallowed everything without pulling back, only letting him slip free when he was spent — and even then, she dragged her tongue across her lips, making sure not a drop was missed.
Thor watched her, still catching his breath.
Then he let out a low, quiet chuckle. "Shall we get ready to head back?"
Esther lay bare before him in the dappled light, chest rising and falling. She smiled — slow and satisfied. "You are definitely ready," she said. "Give me a moment to clean up."
Over the course of three months in that forest, Thor had climbed from mid-level to high-level tier — a height no member of his clan had ever reached. A rank that, by rights, made him eligible for kingship. He stood now in a position higher than his own father, his body no longer resembling the lean, uncertain wolf who had nearly died at the hands of a single orc.
He was something else entirely now.
Satisfied with what the months had built between them — in strength, in trust, in something neither of them had named aloud yet — the two made their way back through the trees toward the village.
The tournament was about to begin.