Chapter 301 – Sisters of the Sun
The house was quiet when they returned.
Not out of absence — but anticipation.
Ciel had sensed his arrival first, even before the mana ripple reached the wards. She stood in the garden, white hair stirring gently, her golden eyes soft with curiosity.
When the door slid open and Alex stepped inside…
They all looked up.
And behind him walked her.
Barefoot. Cloaked in simple ivory silk. Long black hair flowing like riverlight. Her skin sun-kissed and smooth, her golden eyes regal, but warm.
Nefertiti.
No crown. No attendants.
Only presence.
She looked at the women one by one — not with challenge, nor pride — but calm, practiced poise, as if she had walked into hundreds of courts, faced rulers, gods, and armies…
…and found none worth fearing.
Hanabi was the first to break.
"W-Wait… wait, she's real?"
She was halfway behind the kitchen wall, ears flattened, tail puffed, face red.
Airi stood with arms folded, lips drawn in a hard line, her gaze sharp as steel. She said nothing — but her suspicion was clear.
Morgan didn't move. She remained seated, legs crossed, silver hair like a blade down her back. Her pale blue eyes watched like winter behind glass.
Vira raised a brow.
Then smiled.
"Ah… so you're the one who kissed him first."
Reyne gave a low whistle from the hallway, twirling a sake cup. "She's beautiful. I hate how perfect she looks."
Ciel was the only one who stepped forward.
Nefertiti's gaze shifted.
Their eyes met.
Two different suns.
One eternal. One reborn.
"…You must be Ciel," Nefertiti said gently. "The one who touched his soul while I was sealed away."
Ciel bowed slightly. "And you… waited longer than any of us. You deserve peace now."
There was no rivalry in her tone. Only grace.
Alex exhaled, relieved.
But the tension wasn't gone.
Not yet.
Nefertiti turned to the rest. Her voice was soft, yet every syllable felt like the edge of carved stone.
"I am not here to take what you have. I do not claim him as mine alone."
She stepped beside Alex and gently placed her hand on his arm.
"But I waited centuries. I carved a tomb with my own hands and gave myself to it. I dreamed of nothing else. And now that I'm here…"
She looked at them, one by one.
"I will not let go."
Airi finally spoke.
"Do you love him?"
Nefertiti nodded once.
"More deeply than time. I loved him when he couldn't remember me. And I still love him now."
Hanabi peeked from behind the wall. "Um… so… do we have to call you like… 'Queen Mother' or something…?"
Nefertiti smiled. "Only if you wish to be formal."
Reyne grinned. "She's got a sense of humor. I like her already."
Morgan, however, stood.
Walked over.
And stopped just in front of her.
Her voice was quiet, but firm.
"Do you think we'll simply accept you?"
Nefertiti looked into her eyes. "No."
"But I will earn it."
Morgan stared longer.
Then turned and walked past her.
"…We'll see."
The atmosphere softened a little. The tension melted, if only slightly.
And then — Vira stepped forward.
Her presence was commanding as ever, her emerald eyes dancing with mischief.
"So," she said, circling once, "you kissed him in the past. I tamed him in the present."
She leaned close, voice lower.
"I wonder which one of us left the stronger mark."
Nefertiti met her gaze.
Steady. Unflinching.
"I didn't leave a mark."
She placed her hand gently over Alex's heart.
"I left my light."
The room was quiet.
Then Hanabi whispered, "O-oh wow…"
Alex cleared his throat.
"…Maybe everyone could sit down. Share tea. Talk?"
Reyne smirked. "Tea and rivalry? Sounds like the usual."
As the women slowly settled into the living room — watching Nefertiti not as an enemy, but something more dangerous — someone real — Alex couldn't help but feel the weight of balance beginning to shift again.
Not toward chaos.
But toward harmony, hard-won.
Nefertiti sat quietly beside Ciel, her hands folded, her posture regal even at rest.
And as they drank tea in the golden afternoon light, one truth became clear:
She was not a storm.
She was the sunlight that came after.
The tea had grown cool.
The conversation drifted from cautious introductions to warmer exchanges — shared glances, passing questions, quiet smiles. Even Morgan, from her corner seat, stopped frowning. Hanabi laughed too loudly once and then blushed. Airi slowly uncrossed her arms.
But Nefertiti remained the calm center of it all — neither aggressive nor retreating. She listened more than she spoke, but when she did, every word carried history.
Still…
Something was missing.
Alex stood slowly and stepped into the next room.
The others didn't follow.
Ciel noticed his expression and said nothing.
Because she understood.
He returned just minutes later.
In his palm…
A ring.
Forged from soul-gold and solar crystal — metal that remembered the warmth of his magic and the purity of her light. It gleamed with twin colors: gold and orange, shifting in gradients like desert sunlight at dawn.
The band was thinner than the others. Not out of lesser value — but reverence. Its shape was carved with hieroglyphs so fine they almost shimmered like breath.
Nefertiti looked up the moment he returned.
Alex knelt in front of her.
And held it up.
"It's yours," he said quietly.
She looked at it — and then at him — and for the first time since waking, her hands trembled.
"You made this?"
"Not just made," he whispered. "I poured every moment we shared into it. Every prayer you whispered beneath ancient stars. Every dream you kept locked inside that pyramid."
He gently took her hand.
"Everyone else wears theirs… because we chose each other in this life."
He slipped the ring onto her finger.
"But you… waited through death and silence. You endured the breath between lifetimes."
The gold and orange glowed faintly as it settled against her skin — like it had found its home.
And as it did, all the other rings — Ciel's silver-gold, Airi's pale blue, Hanabi's flame-pink, Morgan's icy platinum, and Vira's emerald-gold — shimmered once in unison.
Acknowledging her.
Accepting her.
Ciel smiled softly. "Now she's truly one of us."
Nefertiti stared at the ring, speechless — and then her voice broke gently.
"…I never expected to wear something made by your hand."
Alex smiled.
"Then you'd better expect even more. Because you're staying."
She leaned forward and kissed him again.
Softer this time.
More tender.
Then pulled back and whispered:
"Then let this ring be my vow — in this era and every one that follows."
And as the women looked on — no longer rivals, but sisters — the sun dipped low outside the house…
…as if bowing to its queen.
Chapter 302 – The Night She Had Always Waited For
The stars had risen like scattered fire across the sky.
Soft lanternlight flickered through the house, casting warm shadows on the walls, but the living room had grown quiet. The others had gone to their rooms — not by command, but by quiet understanding.
Only two remained.
Alex stood near the balcony, his thoughts distant.
Nefertiti approached from behind, her footsteps silent as desert wind.
"Alex," she said softly.
He turned to her.
She met his eyes, golden and steady — not with hesitation, not with bashfulness, but with conviction.
"It's time," she said.
Her voice was quiet. Sure.
"I waited for you beneath the sand, across lifetimes, and through silence. But I do not want to sleep alone tonight."
She stepped closer.
"I don't want memory anymore. I want presence. I want breath. I want the man I loved… to be beside me now."
Alex didn't speak — he didn't need to.
He reached for her hand.
She took it.
And together, they walked into his room.
No other lights burned. Just the soft glow of the moon spilling across the floorboards. The curtains danced gently in the breeze.
At the foot of the bed, Nefertiti turned to face him.
She reached for the sash of her robe — and slowly untied it.
The fabric slipped from her shoulders like silk poured from stone, revealing the golden sheen of her skin, the subtle curve of her waist, the full, proud shape of her breasts. Her nipples were soft brown, kissed by the sun — and her gold-orange ring shimmered faintly on her left hand.
She placed that hand over her breast — cupping it gently.
Then she looked at him and asked:
"…Do you want to suck it?"
Alex's breath caught.
He didn't answer with words.
He stepped forward, slowly, reverently — like approaching a shrine.
Then he knelt slightly, leaned in, and took her breast into his mouth.
Warm.
Firm.
Perfect.
His lips closed around her nipple, and he suckled gently.
She gasped — her hand sliding behind his head, fingers curling into his hair.
"Mmm…"
Her voice was low, pleased — not needy, but welcoming.
She arched slightly toward him, letting him savor it. Her other hand stroked his cheek.
Alex drew deeper — his tongue circling her slowly, lips moving in sync with each breath. He felt her heart quicken beneath his mouth.
Then —
He stood.
And without needing a word…
He began to undress.
Piece by piece.
Until there was nothing between them.
Nothing but the warmth of their bodies.
Nothing but the years they had lost.
And now…
Nothing left to wait for.
Their bodies met beneath the hush of starlight.
Not with urgency.
But with depth.
Alex laid her down gently onto the bed — her dark hair spread like ink across the pillow, her golden eyes watching him not as a queen, but as a woman who had waited lifetimes to be touched again by love, not memory.
His hands traced her skin, from the curve of her collarbone to the slope of her hips, memorizing each line like scripture. She sighed under his fingers, her chest rising slowly, as if every breath gave shape to the centuries they'd lost.
"I dreamed of this," she whispered, voice like silk pulled taut. "Every night. And in every dream… you touched me like this. As if I was real."
Alex lowered his lips to her breast again, kissing it softly — not just to stir desire, but to honor the gift she had given him: her patience, her faith.
When he looked into her eyes, he whispered,
"You were always real."
He entered her slowly.
Nefertiti arched into his touch, a soft gasp escaping her lips as Alex's mouth closed around her nipple, sucking and nipping at the sensitive flesh. His hand traveled south, fingers delving into the wetness that awaited him. She was dripping, her arousal slick against his skin as he stroked her, teasing her clit with deliberate, maddening circles.
"Fuck, Alex," Nefertiti moaned, her hips bucking against his hand, seeking more. "I need you inside me."
Alex chuckled, a low, throaty sound that vibrated against her breast. "Patience, my love," he murmured, his fingers continuing their sweet torment. He wanted her on the edge, desperate and begging for his cock. He wanted to hear her plead for release, to feel her shatter around his fingers before he gave her what they both craved.
Nefertiti's breath came in short, sharp gasps as Alex worked her body like a finely tuned instrument. Her orgasm was building, a crescendo of pleasure that threatened to overwhelm her. "Please, Alex," she begged, her golden eyes dark with need. "I want to feel your dick inside me. I want you to fuck me until I can't think straight."
The raw need in her voice was too much for Alex to resist. He positioned himself at her entrance, the head of his cock teasing her swollen lips. With one powerful thrust, he buried himself inside her, filling her completely.
Nefertiti cried out, her body stretching to accommodate his girth. The sensation of his cock driving into her was exquisite, a mixture of pain and pleasure that left her dizzy with desire. She wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him deeper, wanting to feel every inch of him.
Alex set a relentless pace, his hips pistoning as he fucked her with an urgency that bordered on savagery. The sound of their bodies slapping together, the scent of their sex, the taste of her skin—it was all intoxicating, fueling the fire that raged between them.
Nefertiti's moans grew louder, her body tensing as another orgasm approached. Alex could feel her pussy tightening around his cock, the rhythmic contractions signaling her impending release. He drove into her harder, faster, determined to send her over the edge.
With a scream that echoed off the walls, Nefertiti came, her body convulsing beneath him as wave after wave of pleasure crashed over her. Alex followed her over the precipice, his own orgasm ripping through him as he emptied himself inside her with a guttural growl.
They lay entwined, their bodies slick with sweat, their breathing ragged. Alex's cock was still buried inside Nefertiti, the aftershocks of their passion causing them both to shudder with delight.
As their heart rates slowed and their breathing returned to normal, a wicked grin spread across Nefertiti's face. "That was incredible, my lord," she said, her golden eyes twinkling with mischief. "But I believe it's my turn to take control."
Before Alex could respond, Nefertiti had pushed him onto his back and straddled him, her eyes gleaming with a lust that promised another round of mind-blowing sex. He watched with anticipation as she reached for the bedside drawer, her fingers closing around a silk scarf and a small bottle of oil.
Nefertiti leaned forward, her hair creating a curtain around their faces as she whispered in his ear, "This time, I'm going to make you beg."
With deft fingers, she bound his wrists to the headboard, the silk scarf providing just enough restraint to make him feel deliciously vulnerable. She poured a generous amount of oil into her palm, warming it before wrapping her hand around his already hardening cock.
Alex groaned as Nefertiti worked the oil into his skin, her hand gliding up and down his shaft with practiced ease. She knew just how to touch him, how to drive him wild with need. He tugged at his restraints, the desire to touch her, to take control, overwhelming him.
Nefertiti merely laughed, a sound that was both beautiful and cruel. "Not yet, my lord," she chided, her hand stilling on his cock. "I want you to lie back and enjoy the ride."
With that, she rose up on her knees and positioned herself over his cock, slowly lowering herself onto him. The sensation of her tight, wet pussy enveloping him was almost too much to bear. Alex's hips bucked, trying to drive deeper into her, but Nefertiti held him at bay, controlling the pace with a confidence that was utterly intoxicating.
She rode him with an elegance and grace that belied the raw, animalistic nature of their coupling. Her body moved with a fluidity that was mesmerizing, each roll of her hips sending jolts of pleasure coursing through Alex's body.
Nefertiti leaned down, her breasts brushing against Alex's chest as she captured his lips in a searing kiss. Her tongue danced with his, a sensual mimicry of the act they were engaged in. She nipped at his lower lip, drawing a drop of blood that she lapped up with a hunger that sent shivers down his spine.
Alex was lost in a sea of sensation, each touch, each kiss, each thrust of her body driving him closer and closer to the brink. He could feel another orgasm building, a force that threatened to consume him entirely.
"Nefertiti," he gasped, his voice hoarse with need. "I'm going to come."
She smiled, a triumphant curve of her lips that was both beautiful and terrifying. "Not yet, my love," she murmured, increasing the pace of her movements. "I want you to hold on just a little longer."
Alex gritted his teeth, the effort of holding back his release making his entire body tremble. He was at her mercy, a willing captive to her every whim and desire.
Finally, when he thought he could take no more, Nefertiti allowed him to let go. With a cry that was part triumph, part surrender, Alex came, his cock pulsing inside her as he filled her with his essence.
Nefertiti collapsed on top of him, her body slick with sweat and satisfaction. She released his wrists from their bindings, and Alex's arms immediately wrapped around her, holding her close. They lay in silence, their hearts beating in unison, their bodies still intimately connected.
The morning light crept slowly through the paper screen.
Golden, soft, quiet — like the desert sun rising after a thousand silent years.
Nefertiti stirred first.
She lay beneath the covers, her bare skin wrapped in warmth, her long black hair trailing across Alex's chest like silken ink. Her gold-orange ring caught the dawn light, glowing faintly — not with magic, but fulfillment.
She looked at him.
Still asleep.
Still beside her.
And for the first time since the age of pharaohs… she let herself relax completely.
No crown.
No temple.
No burden.
Only love.
She leaned forward and kissed his shoulder, then closed her eyes again and whispered into his skin:
"I found you."
Outside the room, the other women were already awake.
Ciel stood in the hallway, sensing the balance of something sacred having been restored. She placed a hand on the wooden frame, golden eyes closed.
Airi paused by the doorway, lips pressed in thought — then quietly stepped away without speaking.
Hanabi blushed, her fox ears twitching, but she said nothing either.
Morgan, arms crossed, narrowed her eyes once — then gave a tiny, reluctant nod.
And Vira?
She smiled.
Not bitterly.
But like a general acknowledging another warrior's rightful victory.
"She claimed him," Vira murmured. "Not by pride. Not by force. But by time."
No one intruded.
No one disturbed them.
Because even they knew:
Last night was not possession.
It was completion.
And Nefertiti — the queen who had waited across the grave of history — had finally been loved not as a myth…
…but as a woman.
And now,
she belonged here.
Not in memory.
Not in legend.
But in his arms.
Chapter 303 – A Queen Learns the Present
It had been seven days since Nefertiti stepped into the modern world — and left her pyramid of dreams behind.
Seven days since her bare feet first touched wooden floors instead of stone.
Seven days since the woman once worshipped as divine began sharing a house with goddesses, warriors, witches, and a man she had waited lifetimes for.
And somehow…
She adapted faster than anyone expected.
Faster than anyone could have expected.
Ciel, ever graceful, offered her a curated introduction — language scrolls, etiquette guides, cultural breakdowns.
But Nefertiti had only needed one day.
By sunset of her first evening, she could already navigate smartphones, understood national borders, memorized the layout of every continent, and recited political history from the French Revolution to the current magical accords.
Airi, impressed but suspicious, ran a stealth assessment behind the scenes — watching how Nefertiti absorbed information. She found no cheating. No mind spells.
Only talent.
When asked how she learned so quickly, Nefertiti had only smiled:
"I ruled over priests, merchants, and generals alike. You learn to listen to the world — not just words. And this world speaks loudly."
By day two, she had already learned how to brew tea, update an app, file an arcane residency request, and cook rice without burning it.
By day three, she joined morning stretches with Hanabi, perfectly mirroring every movement. By noon, she was correcting Reyne's posture mid-pose.
By day four, she helped Morgan stabilize a volatile magical sigil with nothing but intuition — redrawing the entire flow with desert-style geometry, which Morgan admitted was annoyingly elegant.
By day five, she stood in the garden with Ciel, both silent, both still — and when the wind passed through the flowers, Nefertiti whispered:
"So this is what peace sounds like… when it isn't guarded by walls."
Now, on day seven, she stood beside Alex at the breakfast table, wearing a modern cream blouse and a flowing ankle-length skirt — simple, but noble.
Her gold-orange ring gleamed softly with mana.
And when she smiled at the others, it was no longer the smile of a visiting monarch.
It was the smile of someone who belonged.
Vira leaned against the wall with a toothpick in her mouth. "If she gets any more perfect, I'm going to start a petty rivalry just to stay sane."
Hanabi nudged her. "Too late. We're already losing."
Morgan poured tea wordlessly. She didn't protest.
Ciel glanced toward Alex and said gently:
"She has learned the world in one day… but we will take our time helping her feel at home."
Alex smiled.
And Nefertiti — watching him — added softly:
"I am home. I've only changed the shape of the walls."
That afternoon, as soft rain tapped against the windows, the house gathered quietly in the main room.
Ciel stood at the center, her usual calm now shaded with a thoughtful intensity. In her hand, she held a crystal scroll that shimmered with magical encryption — restricted content, far above mortal access.
She looked at each of them in turn, then at Alex.
"Someone found something," she said simply.
Alex raised a brow. "The Book of Aten?"
Ciel nodded. "Not the book itself. But…"
She tapped the scroll, and a projection bloomed in the air — a glowing map of Northern Africa, riddled with leyline markings, divine residue trails, and broken ward signatures lost to history.
"This came through one of the top Magical Association networks. The public knows nothing about it — it's classified as a supernatural Tier-7 artifact disturbance."
The image zoomed into the deep valley west of Luxor — the very place where Nefertiti had once been sealed.
"They didn't find pages or spells. But they did find… something. A trail of transport."
Morgan narrowed her eyes. "Transport?"
Ciel nodded. "An object of massive symbolic weight was moved sometime during the early Roman period. Its mana is still dormant, but it has the exact signature of the Aten seal Alex used."
Vira frowned. "So they think it's the original?"
"They're sure of it," Ciel said. "But they don't know where it was taken — only that it left Egypt in secret, hidden by a network of unknown guardians."
Hanabi twitched nervously. "Do… do we have to go find it?"
But Alex didn't even shift in his seat.
Nefertiti, seated beside him, held a cup of herbal tea in her hand, perfectly calm.
"No," Alex said. "Let them chase it."
Reyne blinked. "You're not interested?"
Nefertiti gave a small smile, leaning against Alex's shoulder.
"The world is always chasing relics of its own memory. But that book was never meant to be a prize. It was a gift."
Alex nodded. "And if it helps people, good. But I don't need it. I could write the whole thing again in three days. Better, even."
He looked around at the others.
"We're not living in a tomb. We're not stuck in history. I already have what matters."
Ciel smiled faintly.
"So… we let them dig. Let them whisper. Let them keep searching for something they'll never fully understand."
Nefertiti set down her cup and laced her fingers with Alex's.
"We've already found the only treasure that mattered."
Silence followed — warm, full, content.
No ambition.
No panic.
No need to prove anything to anyone.
Because while the world stirred in secret beneath veils of magic and greed…
They chose peace.
They chose each other.
They chose now.
Chapter 304 – The Taste of Gold and Victory
It was mid-afternoon when Vira entered the room.
No announcement. No warning.
Just her presence — commanding as ever.
Alex had been sitting in quiet conversation with Ciel and Airi while Hanabi doodled half-asleep on a notebook nearby. Morgan glanced up from the far wall, arms folded. Nefertiti sat calmly near the window, leafing through an ancient text she was adapting for modern language.
When Vira stepped into the space, the room shifted.
Even before she said a word, they all knew — something was different.
Something important.
But she said nothing.
Not at first.
She walked straight toward Alex. Her emerald-green cloak whispered behind her like forest wind. Her lips curled into a confident, unreadable smile.
Then—
Without hesitation…
She grabbed the front of her top.
And pulled it down.
Her breasts spilled free — high, full, flawless — each crowned with a gleaming gold nipple clamp, engraved with elven runes that shimmered faintly in the room's ambient mana.
Even though most of them had seen them before…
Today felt different.
Today was not ordinary.
Alex blinked, stunned. "Vira—"
She raised a hand sharply.
"Quiet."
Then her tone dropped, silken and authoritative:
"Suck."
He hesitated.
Only for a breath.
But that was enough for her to lean closer, her gaze sharp and electric.
"I said: suck. Only that."
The weight in her voice left no room for games.
Alex leaned in — instinct guiding him — and took her left breast gently into his mouth. His lips closed around the clamp. Warmth.
And then…
Milk.
Rich. Warm. Slightly sweet, with a hint of magic pulsing through it.
Alex froze in surprise, lips still on her skin.
She smiled — not smug, but seductively triumphant.
"Ah… you noticed."
Her hand gently cupped the back of his head.
Then, with a breathy murmur:
"I'm pregnant."
The room went still.
Completely.
Even Ciel's serene expression shifted with quiet shock.
Airi's teacup nearly slipped from her hand.
Hanabi gasped audibly.
Nefertiti looked up — not surprised, but... respectful.
Alex pulled back for just a moment, staring up at her with wide, stunned joy. "You're—?"
But she placed her fingers on his lips.
And whispered,
"Don't stop."
He obeyed.
He closed his lips again around her nipple and drank slowly, reverently.
Her milk flowed more freely now — soft warmth filling his mouth as she gently stroked his hair.
She leaned forward, speaking only for him.
"This will become your favorite drink, you know."
Then her tone darkened slightly — teasing and territorial.
"Tell me… whose milk is better? Mine, or Amaterasu's?"
Alex paused, blinking against her skin. "I've… never drunk hers."
Vira smirked. "Then next time you visit her… drink it. Compare it."
She tilted his chin up slightly with one hand, holding his gaze.
"But I already know the answer."
Then she pushed him gently back to her chest, one hand at the back of his head.
"Don't stop until I'm satisfied. Keep drinking. Watch me. Only me."
And Alex obeyed.
Because in that moment — with gold on her skin and fire in her words — there was no one else like her.
Not in the house.
Not in the world.
Not even in the heavens.
Alex's mouth remained latched gently onto her breast, lips sealed around the enchanted gold clamp. He drank slowly, reverently, the warmth of her milk coating his tongue with every pulse.
Vira's breath deepened with satisfaction — her fingers curled softly into his hair, guiding his rhythm, keeping him close.
Every now and then, she let out a quiet sound — not a moan, not quite — but something content and possessive, like a queen admiring her favorite tribute.
The room had long since faded around them.
There was only her voice.
Only her control.
Only her milk.
"You're doing well," she murmured, voice husky with pleasure and pride. "I thought you might resist… but look at you now."
She leaned down slightly, brushing her lips near his ear, her tone shifting into something more intimate — more dangerous.
"I told you I tamed you first. And now I've marked you in the oldest way there is…"
Her hand slid down and cupped his cheek gently.
"Because the milk you're drinking… is for our daughter."
Alex froze for a breath.
His lips parted.
His eyes widened — a flicker of shock and joy flashing across his face.
He pulled back slightly to look up at her. "A daughter…?"
She smiled.
Slow.
Triumphant.
Glowing.
"Yes," she whispered. "A daughter born of me… and you. She's growing inside me even now. Every drop you drink… I made for her first."
Alex looked stunned, overwhelmed — his heart racing with happiness too large for words.
But just as he began to lift his head to speak again—
Vira's hand gripped the back of his head.
Gently.
But firmly.
"No." she whispered, her voice velvet and iron. "Keep sucking."
Her eyes glowed faintly.
"You don't stop. Not now. Not until I say so."
He obeyed.
He leaned back in and sealed his lips around her again.
This time not just with desire — but devotion.
Vira exhaled softly as her milk flowed again, her fingers stroking through his hair in slow, proud motions.
"That's better," she said gently. "You're training well. Just like I taught you before."
She cradled his head against her chest, watching him closely, guiding the pressure of his lips, the pace of his drinking.
"Every time you drink like this," she murmured, "you're connecting to her. You're practicing for the day when you'll hold her… feed her… protect her."
"But for now," she added with a smile, "you belong to me."
Her voice was almost tender then.
"Say it. Even as you suck — say it for me."
Alex pulled back just enough to whisper against her skin:
"…I belong to you."
"Good boy."
She sighed in satisfaction, and gently pushed him back to her breast again.
"Now drink. Slowly. Watch me. Learn me. This body has claimed you already…"
"And it will always be the first one you served."
She brushed his cheek, her eyes half-lidded with pleasure.
"The first. The one who tamed you."
And as Alex continued — warm milk flowing again with each careful pull of his lips — Vira tilted her head back slightly, the curve of her throat glowing in the golden afternoon light, her voice soft but absolute:
"And until I'm satisfied…"
"You will keep drinking."
Vira shifted slightly, adjusting her stance so Alex could rest more comfortably against her. Her hand caressed the back of his head with steady rhythm, fingers threading through his hair like a queen stroking her prize knight.
She looked down at him — the most powerful man in the world, now drinking from her breast like a devoted consort — and her smile deepened.
"You want to know something, beloved?"
Alex hummed softly against her nipple in response, lips still suckling slowly, obediently.
Her voice was warm. Almost playful.
"High Elves… have many secrets. But there's one gift we carry that most of the world doesn't know."
She cupped her breast gently in her hand, offering it more fully to him.
"When a high elf becomes pregnant… her milk never runs out."
She leaned closer.
"It will keep flowing. As long as someone… keeps drinking."
Her words curled around him like silk, her fingers tracing down the line of his neck.
"So don't hold back. Don't think you need to stop."
She placed her hand over the other breast — the one still full, still untouched.
"Because until I say otherwise…"
"You'll keep sucking."
She smirked softly, brushing her fingertip across his cheek.
"And since I'm pregnant with your daughter…"
"It might take me several hours to be satisfied."
Alex gave a slow nod without lifting his head, and deepened his suction — pulling more milk from her with reverent precision.
"That's right…" she whispered. "Drink slowly. Let it fill your body. Let it remind you what we made together."
Her hand slipped from his hair to rest gently on her belly — still flat, but beginning to pulse with subtle warmth.
She took his chin and lifted it — just for a moment — guiding his mouth away from her breast.
His lips parted softly, slick with her milk.
She looked down at him — eyes glowing, proud, eternal.
"Kiss it," she commanded softly, guiding his hand to her stomach. "Kiss where she rests."
Alex leaned forward without hesitation.
He pressed his lips against her skin — slow, reverent.
One kiss.
Then another.
Then a third — with both hands cradling her waist, as if holding something sacred.
"I'll protect her," he whispered. "No matter what. I promise."
Vira exhaled softly — not in triumph, not in pride.
But in peace.
"Of course you will," she whispered. "You're her father. And my man."
She ran her fingers through his hair again.
"Now go back."
He obeyed without hesitation — mouth returning to her breast, lips wrapping once more around the golden clamp, suckling deeply again.
Her breath hitched — pleased.
Her smile returned.
"That's it…"
"Several hours, Alex. That's how long you'll serve me tonight."
"Because this milk is yours."
"And this daughter…" she whispered, her voice melting with pride, "will be our legacy."
And as the golden afternoon faded into the deep warmth of evening, Alex continued his slow, devoted rhythm — one breath at a time.
No resistance.
No shame.
Only Vira's milk.
Only her command.
Only the vow he would fulfill,
again and again,
until she was satisfied.
The golden glow in the room had deepened into amber dusk, shadows stretching long across the wooden floor. Vira stood tall, still bare-chested, her gold nipple clamps glinting faintly with enchanted warmth. Her hair framed her face like a queen's battle veil — proud, beautiful, untouchable.
She looked down at Alex, who still knelt before her, mouth warm against her breast, lips coated in her milk.
Then she raised her hand.
And pointed to him.
"Carry me."
Her voice was soft — but absolute.
Alex didn't hesitate. He rose in one smooth motion and lifted her into his arms, cradling her as if she weighed nothing. Her body curled naturally into him, one hand resting over his heart, the other casually teasing his collar.
"To your bedroom," she murmured, smiling. "Now."
He obeyed.
Without a word.
The hallway was silent. The house, still. The others may have known what was happening — they may have even watched from behind barely cracked doors — but no one dared interrupt.
He carried her past the paper doors and into his room, lit only by the soft white glow of a magical lantern. The bed awaited them like fate made tangible.
He laid her down gently upon the sheets, the way one would place a crown upon a throne.
But Vira didn't allow stillness for long.
She tilted her head, narrowed her eyes, and spoke again.
"Take off your clothes."
Alex met her gaze — and obeyed.
One by one, his garments fell away. Tunic. Pants. Undergarments. Until he stood before her naked, his body strong, lean, powerful — and hers.
Vira's eyes scanned him slowly, the smile on her lips growing deeper.
"That's mine too," she said, voice a sultry whisper. "All of it. Everything."
"You don't belong to the world anymore. You belong to me."
Alex didn't argue.
He didn't need to.
Vira opened her arms and beckoned.
"Now lie beside me."
He climbed into bed.
She pulled him close — chest to chest, skin to skin — her hand guiding his face back to her breast.
"Suck."
Alex wrapped his lips around the gold clamp once again, his mouth warm and obedient. Her milk flowed steadily now, easier than before — as if her body had fully awakened to him, to their child, to this bond.
She sighed, pleased — her fingers stroking through his hair in long, possessive motions.
"You'll do this all night," she whispered. "No sleep. No breaks. No release."
"You'll keep sucking… until dawn."
"You'll drink every drop I give you. Because it's mine. Because you're mine."
Alex moaned softly against her nipple — not from exhaustion, not from hesitation.
But from surrender.
Vira smiled — the smile of a queen whose throne had finally been reclaimed.
"This is your place now," she whispered. "At my breast. At my side. In my bed."
"You will serve me… and I will feed you."
"No resting, Alex. No stopping. I don't care if your jaw aches. I don't care if your mind drifts. You will keep drinking."
"Do you understand?"
He nodded against her chest, never breaking contact.
"Good boy," she purred.
And as the night deepened, and the moon rose quietly behind the clouds…
Alex obeyed.
Hour after hour.
Her milk never ran dry.
And her orders never softened.
She held his head gently.
She whispered to him constantly.
And she smiled as he suckled — her nipples glistening, her womb warm with their child, and her heart full with the knowledge:
She had tamed the world's strongest man.
And now… he would worship her until morning.
The night passed slowly.
But not gently.
Alex never stopped.
Not once.
His lips remained sealed to her breast, his mouth moving with practiced reverence as Vira held him close — stroking his hair, humming softly, whispering lullabies not for their child… but for him.
Sometimes she teased him.
Sometimes she kissed his forehead.
Sometimes she told him stories of ancient elven queens who made their lovers serve them for days without sleep — and how none of them ever lasted as long as he did.
Her milk never ceased.
It pulsed through him like sunlight, warm and nourishing, binding them closer with every swallow.
But at last… the first light of dawn slipped through the curtains.
Soft. Golden. Silent.
And Vira sighed — long and satisfied.
She looked down at him, still latched to her breast, his breath slow but steady, his arms still holding her as if afraid to let go.
She brushed her fingers across his cheek.
"That's enough," she whispered. "You've done well, Alex."
She kissed the top of his head, then added with a smirk:
"You're still mine."
Alex slowly released her nipple with a faint gasp, lips glistening, eyes half-closed in dazed devotion.
But before he could say anything, a soft knock came at the door.
Followed by a gentle voice.
"Vira," Ciel said quietly. "May I come in?"
Vira blinked. Then nodded. "Yes, big sister."
Ciel entered with grace, her silver-white hair glowing faintly in the early light. She took one look at the two of them — the state of Vira's exposed chest, the dried milk on Alex's lips, the way he clung to her like a man half-awake in a dream — and said nothing for a long moment.
Then she smiled faintly.
"You look… satisfied."
Vira gave a small, proud smirk. "Of course I am. He obeyed all night. I didn't let him rest once."
Ciel nodded. "Yes. I know. I felt your presence all through the house."
She stepped closer and knelt beside the bed, her tone gentle — but edged with something more.
"Vira. It's good that you took what you wanted. That's always been your strength. But there's something else you need to do."
Vira tilted her head. "What's that?"
Ciel placed a hand on hers — the one still resting on Alex's cheek.
"Tell him you love him."
Vira blinked.
"W-What?"
Ciel's gaze didn't waver.
"You treated him like a pet. You enjoyed the game. You asserted yourself over the other women. But you also know he gave himself to you — body and soul. Not because he had to… but because he loves you."
"So you need to say it. Not as a queen. Not as a dominant. As a woman."
Vira looked down at Alex — who stared up at her now, quietly, listening.
Ciel continued softly:
"Don't let him think it was all control. Don't let him believe you only see him as something to tame. Because I know you don't."
"I've watched you. I've seen your eyes when he touches you gently. I've heard the way your voice changes when he's near."
"You love him. So tell him."
"And if all of this — all the teasing, all the training — was just your way of feeling secure… of proving yourself above us…"
She smiled kindly.
"Then admit it. He deserves that honesty."
Vira was quiet for a long moment.
Her usual confidence faded into something softer.
She looked down at Alex, at the man who had just spent the entire night suckling from her without question… not because she forced him, but because he chose to.
Her fingers trembled just slightly as they ran through his hair one more time.
And then she whispered,
"I do love you."
Her voice shook — just once — like a stone finally lifted.
"I know I play. I know I tease. I know I act like I own you because I want to be proud and fearless in front of the others."
"But the truth is…"
She looked away for a moment — then met his gaze again.
"I'm not afraid of losing you. I'm afraid of being less than the other women in your eyes. So I tried to be the boldest. The most intense. The first to tame you."
"But not because I think you're a pet."
She cupped his cheek.
"You're not. You're the only man I could ever give myself to."
Ciel smiled, rising to her feet.
"Then that's all he ever needed to hear."
And as she stepped quietly from the room, the dawn spilling behind her…
Vira leaned down and kissed Alex one more time.
"You're mine," she whispered. "But I'm yours too."
"Always."
Vira still hovered over him, her cheeks faintly pink, her golden eyes glimmering with the remnants of pride, love, and unexpected vulnerability. The words she had just spoken — "I do love you" — still lingered in the air like incense.
Alex looked up at her, his lips still damp from hours at her breast, his voice quiet, but unwavering.
"I know," he said.
He reached up and took her hand in his — the same hand that had fed him, commanded him, held him like both a queen and a woman.
"I let you control me… not because I was weak, not because I lost. But because I wanted to give you that joy."
His thumb stroked across her knuckles as he continued, voice steady:
"Because I love you."
"Because I know what it means to you — to lead, to stand above the others, to prove yourself."
"And because seeing you happy…"
He paused — his eyes softening with something deeper than devotion.
"…makes me happy too."
Vira's lips parted, eyes widening just slightly.
"You endured all of that… just to see me smile?"
He nodded.
"If letting you pour your milk into me for hours, if listening to every command, if giving you my body like that made you feel powerful, safe, proud… then I'd do it again. As many times as it takes."
He leaned forward and kissed her belly once more — gently.
"Because you're not just a queen to me. You're the woman I love."
"And I'd never take that happiness away from you."
Vira's breath caught.
Her fingers tightened around his.
For a moment, the room felt still.
Not heavy.
Not tense.
But full.
Full of trust.
Full of warmth.
Full of truth.
She leaned down, kissed his forehead, then whispered in the softest voice he'd ever heard from her:
"…Then I'll give you more than just my pride, Alex. I'll give you everything."
They lay together in silence after that — no commands, no teasing — just tangled limbs, steady heartbeats, and the quiet beginning of something deeper than roles or play.
Something called forever.
Chapter 305 – The Truth Beneath Her Play
The room was quiet.
The sun had risen fully now, casting soft, warm light across the bed where two bodies lay entangled — no longer master and servant, not goddess and worshiper, but something simpler.
Something deeper.
Lovers, holding each other close.
Vira's head rested on Alex's chest, her ear pressed to his heartbeat. Her arm draped across his stomach, possessive and gentle. Her golden-green hair spilled across his skin like ivy bathed in morning light.
They didn't speak at first.
They didn't need to.
But eventually…
She shifted, just slightly, and said quietly,
"I really was happy… doing those things to you."
Her voice wasn't playful this time. It was sincere. A confession, not a tease.
Alex looked down at her and smiled faintly, brushing her hair with calm fingers.
"Then I'm glad," he said. "If it made you happy… I'll keep letting you do it."
She let out a soft breath, not quite a laugh.
"I didn't think I'd enjoy it this much," she murmured. "Taming you. Owning your attention. Making the others see that I could take you in ways they didn't dare."
She pulled herself closer, pressing her cheek to his skin.
"But now that I've felt it… I don't have the heart to stop."
Alex didn't reply.
He didn't need to.
His hand simply rested over hers, steady and warm.
He could endure it.
He always had.
But Vira turned her face upward and looked at him directly.
Her voice softened even more — low, honest, no longer the voice of a queen, but of a woman letting herself be seen.
"Even if I act like I own you…"
"Even if I treat you like a pet or a prize in front of the others…"
She touched his cheek gently.
"We both know the truth."
"I don't see you that way."
Alex met her eyes, still silent.
Vira continued.
"I do those things to satisfy myself. To remind the others — and myself — that I can still win. That I can still stand proud."
"But in here…"
She placed her hand over her own chest, where her heart beat steadily beneath his palm.
"I love you as my husband. My equal. My chosen."
Her eyes glimmered.
"I will tease you. I will make you serve me. I will ride you until your mind goes blank. But I will never forget that you are my partner — not my pet."
She leaned up.
Brushed her lips against his.
"That's my promise to you."
Alex stared into her eyes — and in that moment, he didn't see the proud, dominant high elf who had trained him like a trophy.
He saw the woman who had once lost everything.
And was terrified of losing again.
He kissed her without words.
And she kissed him back.
Not possessively.
Not to prove anything.
But to seal the promise that her heart had made.
And when they parted, breathless and quiet, Vira smiled.
"Now," she whispered, curling into his arms once more.
"Let's stay like this a little longer."
And for once…
She gave no orders.
Because love didn't need them.
Not this morning.
Not anymore.
The scent of grilled fish, steamed rice, and miso soup filled the house with gentle warmth.
Alex moved quietly through the kitchen, sleeves rolled, hair slightly tousled from sleep, his touch graceful as he plated the final side dishes. Though he had been up most of the night, his movements remained precise — calm, content, purposeful.
The others were already seated at the low dining table, their expressions ranging from sleepy to amused.
Hanabi yawned while trying to keep her fox tail from brushing the dishes. Airi sipped her tea in silence, glancing at Vira with cautious curiosity. Morgan sat with her arms folded but said nothing. Reyne leaned lazily on one elbow, eyes flicking between Alex and the queen seated with too-perfect poise at the head of the table.
Nefertiti and Ciel shared a quiet look from across the cushions — two women who had seen enough of the world to understand what was unfolding.
Alex finally returned from the kitchen and took his usual place at the center—
But Vira raised her hand.
"No," she said calmly. "You're sitting here."
She patted the cushion behind her.
"You'll sit beneath me. I'll eat on your lap."
Alex didn't hesitate.
Not anymore.
He moved without protest and sat cross-legged on the cushion she indicated. Vira gracefully turned and sat upon his lap, back straight, legs folded to one side like a proper high elf — but her entire posture was charged with silent possession.
"Now," she murmured, glancing at the dishes with a faint smile, "feed me."
Alex lifted a small piece of grilled salmon and brought it to her lips. She took it slowly, savoring the texture. He followed with a bite of tamago, then a spoonful of rice.
He did it all in silence.
Without hesitation.
"Good," she whispered between bites. "You're learning."
The others said nothing.
They watched.
But not with scorn — not anymore.
Because whatever it looked like from the outside, the way Vira shifted slightly against his lap, the way Alex adjusted to support her without her asking…
This wasn't humiliation.
It was intimacy.
A strange, unshakable kind of comfort.
When the last bite of the meal was done, Vira leaned back and let out a satisfied sigh.
Then turned her head slightly.
"Massage me."
Her hand guided his to her chest — directly over her robe.
"My breasts. The clamps are off for now. They're sore."
Alex obeyed.
His hands gently cupped her through the fabric, kneading her slowly, reverently. His fingers worked with quiet care, pressing into the soft weight of her breasts, circling the spots she leaned into most.
She closed her eyes and exhaled again.
"Mmm… just like that."
Then, without warning—
"Now feed me something sweet."
Alex reached for the chilled plate of dessert — mochi and fruit slices — and picked the softest pink piece. He brought it to her lips.
She bit down gently, chewed…
Then stopped.
Her eyes opened slowly, gleaming with mischief.
"Bring your face closer," she said softly.
Alex leaned in, unsure.
But before he could speak—
She kissed him.
Soft.
Lingering.
And as their lips parted, she pushed the remaining half of the sweet mochi into his mouth — warm from hers — feeding him like a mother bird to her mate.
He blinked in surprise.
She smiled against his lips.
"Is it delicious?"
Alex nodded slowly, swallowing.
"It's… delicious."
They stared at each other for a long moment — still close, still quiet.
And though their relationship often wore the mask of master and servant…
The look in their eyes told another story.
There was no cruelty.
No humiliation.
Only affection.
Only understanding.
Vira leaned forward and kissed him again — not as a queen to her plaything.
But as a woman to the man who had chosen her.
Their kiss deepened.
And when they finally parted, Vira whispered so softly that only he could hear:
"Thank you… for being mine."