The first rays of morning light filtered through the curtains, casting a soft glow over the room. Lucas rubbed his temples, feeling the exhaustion from working through the night. He had been meticulously refining potions, analyzing cultivation techniques, and stabilizing his breakthroughs. His body ached slightly, but he welcomed the discomfort—it was proof of his progress.
Lira stretched as she opened her eyes, her body feeling lighter and more stable than before. A pleased smile formed on her lips as she looked over at her master.
"Good morning, Master. Were you working the whole night?" Her voice was laced with concern as she took in his tired expression.
"Yes, Lira. I've been busy," Lucas replied, rolling his shoulders.
"You could've asked me to help you," she said softly, stepping closer.
Lucas shook his head. "It's no good disrupting someone when they're cultivating, Lira. You needed to focus."
Lira didn't argue. Instead, she silently nodded and moved toward the bath chamber, quickly preparing warm water for him. As she filled the tub, the scent of herbs mixed with steam, creating a soothing atmosphere.
Lucas slipped into the warm bath, exhaling deeply as the heat eased his tense muscles. Lira, as always, was diligent—she grabbed a cloth, soaked it, and began scrubbing his back with gentle strokes.
Just as he was beginning to relax, the door burst open.
Selene.
She didn't knock. She didn't even hesitate.
Lira's body stiffened at the sudden intrusion, but relief washed over her when she realized she wasn't in a compromising position with Lucas. If Selene had walked in a moment later, who knew what assumptions she might have made?
"Leave us," Selene ordered, her tone sharp.
Lira, however, didn't move. Instead, she stood up and took a step back, maintaining a respectful distance but making it clear that she had no intention of leaving.
"I only answer to Master," she replied calmly, lowering her head slightly in a show of deference.
Lucas raised a brow, impressed by Lira's boldness. His lips curled into a smirk.
Selene, on the other hand, was furious. "You deaf bitch? You grown guts?"
Lira remained silent, her posture composed, but her presence alone was an act of defiance. She hadn't disrespected Selene, nor had she overstepped her boundaries—she was simply waiting for Lucas to give the command.
Lucas let the tension hang in the air for a moment before speaking.
"It's okay, Lira. Excuse us for a moment," he finally said.
Lira bowed respectfully. "Yes, Master," she murmured before quietly exiting the room.
Selene watched her go, her fingers curling into fists. The moment the door closed behind Lira, she turned back to Lucas, her expression shifting into something softer, more calculated.
"You're letting her stand up to me now?" she asked, her voice gentle, almost wounded. She was trying to manipulate him, trying to test his patience.
Lucas tilted his head slightly, eyeing her with amusement. "No, Selene. She answers only to me. Now, what do you want?"
Rather than answer immediately, Selene stepped forward, grabbing the cloth Lira had been using. Without hesitation, she dipped it into the water and began washing his chest, her fingers grazing over his skin with deliberate slowness.
Lucas frowned. "I never said I've forgiven you for what you did, Selene."
Selene didn't stop. Instead, she looked up at him with those deep, pleading eyes, her lips slightly parted. "I'll make it up to you, Xavier. Please… let me," she whispered, her voice dripping with regret.
Lucas didn't reply. He simply watched her, his mind calculating.
She wants to play this game? Fine. Let's play.
He had already decided—he wasn't going to let her off easily. What she had done was unforgivable. If he didn't make her suffer for it, she wouldn't learn her lesson. And one thing he knew about women, especially women like Selene, was that they loved a dominant man.
That was why she had chosen the prince over Xavier in the first place—she wanted someone powerful, someone who could make her feel wanted, yet completely at his mercy. But now, she realized her mistake.
Too late for regrets, Selene.
Lucas leaned back in the bath, letting her continue, his expression unreadable.
If she wanted his forgiveness, she would have to earn it.
Selene remained by the edge of the wooden tub, the warm water sloshing gently as she dragged the damp cloth over Lucas's broad shoulders. Steam curled up around them, thick and hazy in the small bathing room, the air heavy with the scent of the lavender soap she'd lathered up.
Her hands moved slow, careful, tracing the lines of his muscles, and every so often, her long hair brushed against his skin as she leaned in closer. She knew he could smell her—her fragrance, a mix of jasmine and something sweeter, like honey, wafting right into his nose.
Lucas sat there, eyes half-closed, letting her wash him, and even though he didn't like her, not after what she did, he couldn't deny it: she smelled damn good.
"Too good," he thought, his jaw tightening a little. And she was a striking beauty, no question—those sharp cheekbones, those full lips, the way her eyes caught the candlelight like they were glowing. He hated admitting it, even to himself, but it was true.
She worked her way down his chest, the cloth dripping warm water over his skin, and then her hands dipped lower, brushing past his stomach. Her fingers hesitated for a second before sliding down to his penis, wrapping around it with a boldness that made her own breath catch.
She gave it a slow stroke, testing, waiting for that familiar twitch, that hardening she'd gotten used to back when things were different between them. But nothing happened—it stayed soft, heavy in her hand, and her stomach dropped.
"He's not horny," she thought, a pang of doubt creeping in. "Does he find me so unattractive now?" She bit her lip, her brows furrowing as she stared down at him, trying to read his blank expression.
What stunned her, though, wasn't just that he wasn't hard—it was the size of him, even like this.
"It's big," she thought, her eyes widening a little. Bigger than she remembered, and that was saying something.
"And if it got hard… gods, it'd be huge." Her mind spun, picturing it, and her hand lingered there, stroking again, half-curious, half-desperate.
Lucas felt her touch, the way her fingers curled around him, and he knew exactly what she was up to.
"She's trying to seduce me," he thought, a dry smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. He'd seen it coming a mile away—the way she'd volunteered to wash him, the soft hum in her voice, the little glances she kept sneaking.
She wanted him to forgive her, he shifted in the tub, water splashing over the edge, and let out a quiet huff.
"How foolish most girls are," he thought, his mind drifting. "They really think they can get anything with their pussy. And yeah, it worked plenty—too many guys out there were simps, falling over themselves for a pretty face and a warm touch."
He'd seen it happen, watched men crumble for less. But him? "Nah, I'm not that easy," he told himself, his eyes narrowing as he glanced at her. He wasn't about to forgive her, not yet—not even if he fucked her right here in this damn bath.
Selene kept her hand on him, stroking slow, her fingers slick with water and soap. She could feel the weight of him, the soft skin under her palm, and it threw her off" how could he be this calm, this unbothered? He used to want me," she thought, a flicker of frustration bubbling up.
Back then, he'd looked at her like she was the only thing in the room, his hands greedy, his breath hot against her neck. Now? Nothing. Not a twitch, not a spark. She leaned in a little closer, her hair falling over her shoulder, brushing his chest, and she tried again, her grip tightening just a bit.
Come on, she thought, almost pleading with him in her head. Give me something. But his cock stayed soft, and it hit her hard—he wasn't into it, wasn't into her. Her cheeks burned, embarrassment mixing with the stubborn need to prove herself. Maybe he's just tired, she told herself, grasping at excuses. Or maybe he's still mad. Either way, she wasn't giving up—not yet.
Lucas watched her through the steam, her face all scrunched up with focus, and he almost laughed. She's trying so hard, he thought, letting his head tip back against the edge of the tub. The water lapped at his chest, warm and soothing, and he closed his eyes for a second, breathing in that jasmine scent of hers. It was distracting, sure—he'd give her that much. And yeah, she was gorgeous, her hands soft and skilled as they moved over him.