The first thing that hit Lucien as his eyes slowly opened was the verdant smell that made him instinctively know he was surrounded by grass.
He opened his eyes with a sweet smile, feeling like he'd woken up back in reality. That's how it felt with that rich, earthy scent—until disappointment stung sharply when he discovered he was still trapped in the cursed game.
Much worse, his hands, legs, and entire body were bound by lustrous black chains. He tried moving, only to topple sideways from where he'd been propped against a tree.
Upon falling, his gaze traced the ground to a wooden log. On it, he glimpsed revealed ivory skin—what looked like upper thighs, though positioned rather high, somewhere between the lower curves where he could even make out the defining line. He had to admit, it was spectacular.
Lucien wasn't typically given to such perverseness, but his throat went dry before a cold voice snapped him back to reality.
"That blow must have knocked you out cold."
