I lounged on the silk-draped bed in the dim glow of Aether crystals, the sheer lingerie clinging to my softened curves like a second skin—black lace framing my flat chest, garters hugging hips that flared traitorously omega, the fabric damp where my pussy and cock leaked with insistent heat.
Nothing else mattered now; the duel's eve demanded this desperate edge. A part of me screamed to stop—assassin's pride recoiling at begging an alpha—but I had to. Elaine's mark was my shield; her rut my trigger. No choice but to claim control first.
The door creaked open, and Elaine strode in—tall, broad-shouldered in her unbuttoned tunic, eyes widening in shock at the sight of me splayed, legs parted shamelessly.
"Your Highness... what the hell are you doing dressed like that?"
"You owe me," I said flatly, voice steady despite the throb low in my belly, silver hair loose and wild across the pillows.
