In a dense forest surrounded by towering ancient trees, a woman in skin-tight black clothes moved like liquid shadow, jumping from branch to branch with the grace of a seasoned assassin. Her movements were swift, economical—each leap like a blink.
Her black robe fluttered behind her, adorned with cuts and tears from the recent confrontation.
She pulled it free and hurled it downward. The moment the fabric touched the ground, it dissipated into nothingness, revealing the voluptuous figure beneath.
After covering approximately eight hundred meters, she finally stopped, perching on a sturdy branch to catch her breath.
Her face, though still partially covered, was flushed crimson.
Her mind was hazy—unfocused in a way that frustrated her deeply.
Seeing him after so long. And the moment he'd touched her, all rational thought had evaporated. She'd wanted nothing more than to pull him into an embrace and stay like that for a day, maybe two.
