"Rest."
Leonhardt glared at the sly dark elf, watching her squirm under the sheets, his eyes scanning her body, curious about what she was doing.
'What's she up to now?'
Despite being impressed by her victory, seeing her wounded affected Leon more than he wanted to admit. He snapped out of frustration upon this realisation because it proved he held a glaring weakness.
Oblivious to his thoughts, Nyxara slipped her hand out of the quilt and extended it to Leonhardt, holding something.
"Here, a gift."
"Huh?"
Leonhardt took the 'gift' without thinking and felt a damp, sticky warmth.
'What is this?'
He opened his palm, revealing a scrunched-up black thong wet with Nyxara's honey.
"Well, do you like it?" She purred with a deep voice.
The dark elves lacked the sense of shame or morals that other women had.
