After her realisation, Leona's atmosphere changed completely. The subtle rejection and shyness faded, and she became honest with herself.
Her fingers clenched the edge of the couch as her back pressed deeper into the leather. No longer trembling out of fear, but out of want. Need.
Nikolai hovered above her, one knee pressed into the cushion beside her thigh. His warm hand lingered against her waist, stroking Leona with his rough fingers.
She looked up—eyes wide, flushed, breathing shallow—but there was no trace of hesitation anymore. Her golden-brown ears twitched forward, focused, aware. Her tail had stopped curling in on itself and now flicked lazily, confidently, brushing her master's hip.
She didn't speak.
Because her body said everything.
