"Sigh." He looked at her for a long moment, a devilish grin slowly forming at the corner of his lips, the glint in his eyes showing amusement.
A chuckle slipped out from him—low, dangerous, the kind that made lesser wolves step back.
He shook his head slightly, stretching a hand to her cheek. His thumb brushed her skin as his eyes narrowed just a little, that sharp, predatory glint in them.
But she didn't flinch. Didn't so much as blink.
And as he stared at her, he understood—he could not intimidate her. Not this woman.
Something inside him relented of its own accord.
"I will," he murmured finally, the words edged with surrender yet threaded with deep vow. His hand slid from her cheek to her jaw, tilting her face to him as he looked into her eyes.
"I will follow whatever you say… my dear wife, but you see I am still—" he was feeling aroused now, recovered due to his wolf recovery rate, his body throbbing for another round with her, but she poured cold water.
"Remove it," Luna flatly said.
"Huh? What?" He blinked, not understanding until he felt her leg unwrap while her eyes shot glares. He didn't understand why; weren't they already mating for quite a while?
"Didn't you say you would follow my words?" Luna said, a smirk forming that caused Javrian's to vanish as she saw this wolf being so naive to fall for it again, unaware that his training would start from tomorrow. She said, "Then remove that thing off me and bring that file from the desk there."
He followed her line of sight, his gaze landing on a thick file resting on the desk across the room.
The candles had burned lower now, their flames barely flickering, casting longer shadows that danced with the dim glow of the oil lamps that had begun to ignite automatically as darkness settled.
He turned back to her, feeling himself throb within her tight heat, his body already recovering and wanting another round despite everything they'd just shared.
"Wife," he said, his voice low with renewed need, "can we not just do it again? It will be the last, I promise."
She looked at him with that knowing smile — the one that made his chest tighten with both desire and wariness.
It was the signal he'd been hoping for, and he started to move his hips—
"What do you call me?" she interrupted, her voice cutting through his movement.
He paused, confused. "Wife?"
"Exactly." Her eyes held his steadily. "So now move."
His confusion deepened. "But... weren't we doing it for hours now?"
Luna closed her eyes briefly, and he could feel her inner walls pulse around him, making him twitch in response.
When she opened them again, there was something different there — sharper, more purposeful.
"We did it like lovers," she said, her voice taking on that tone that always made him feel like he was missing something important. "But now it's the wife's time to take control."
"What?" He blinked, genuinely bewildered. "Is there any difference between both?"
Luna slowly worked one hand free from the sheet, her eyes never leaving his as she placed her palm flat against his chest.
"Let me tell you another secret of a woman, my dear husband," she said, reaching up to poke her finger against the tip of his nose with absolutely no fear of the predator above her. "A wife is a lover who knows when to act like one... and right now—"
She paused. Her voice took on that commanding edge again.
"I want to act like a wife. A responsible wife."
The words hung in the air like a challenge, but Javrian only stared at her — silver eyes caught between confusion and that restless urge to understand every layer of her.
She was a puzzle wrapped in silk and fire, and even after all they'd shared, she could still shift from tender lover to commanding sovereign in the space of a breath.
He felt himself soften slightly within her, the haze of desire clearing just enough for obedience to take root.
"As you wish, wife," he murmured, voice low and compliant, though the faint throb in his core protested.
Slowly, carefully, he began to withdraw, inch by inch, feeling the reluctant drag of her warmth clinging to him as if it refused to let go.
The sensation made her hiss softly through her teeth, making his body flinch too due to her voice and his muscles tensing as cool air replaced her heat.
He lifted his gaze — and froze.
Luna, rising from the bed, looked divine and wounded all at once.
The candlelight and the faint glow of oil lamps caught on every mark he had left on her. Love bites trailed her pale neck like scattered rose petals, deepening to purple bruises along her collarbone.
Her breasts still bore the red imprints of his hands, peaks flushed and sensitive, rising and falling with her uneven breaths.
Finger-shaped shadows clung to her thighs, and between them… the faint sheen of their mingled release glistened in the low light.
She looked… in pain.
Not the breaking kind, but the aching kind — a body pushed to its limits.
Against her delicate skin, the evidence of his beast side whispered accusations he couldn't ignore. Guilt flickered through him.
Her crimson eyes found his, unreadable, stripping him bare. The silence stretched until he broke it.
"What happened?" His voice was quieter now, hand reaching to brush her arm.
Something flickered in her gaze — exasperation, affection, pain — before her legs gave way.
She fell back onto the bed with a soft thud, eyes closing against the weight of the day… or perhaps the hours they had just lost to each other.
Javrian was beside her in an instant, hand hovering over her face. "What happened to you?" The question was all concern now, his gaze scanning her for any injury beyond what he'd already done.
She opened her eyes slowly, meeting his with a weary glare. "My whole body is hurting," she admitted, voice raw. "I am exhausted and it's aching."
Remorse hit him like a blow. "Can I do anything?" The plea was genuine, ready to fetch water, herbs, anything.
Her answer came with the same commanding spark that always disarmed him. "Take the document and me towards the balcony. The light is too dim here."
Without hesitation, he crossed to the desk, scooping up the thick file. Then, returning to her side, he slid his arms beneath her.
Both of them were still bare — her warm, marked skin against the rough planes of his chest — as he lifted her in a princess carry.
Her head found its place against his shoulder as if by instinct.
Before moving, he grabbed a nearby lamp from the bedside table, its warm glow flickering to life in his hand.
With steady steps, he carried her toward the balcony doors, pushing them open with his shoulder.
The balcony doors opened to the cool night air, heavy with the scent of blooming night flowers and distant rain.
Moonlight spilled silver over the gardens, turning them dreamlike.
Luna's voice was softer now, tinged with wonder. "Were we… going for all day?"
He glanced down at her, a small smile tugging at his lips as he carried her to the balcony's edge. "It seems like that," he agreed, nodding toward the drawn curtains back in the room. "It was clear that due to closing the curtains, we were going for all day."
The truth settled between them—they had lost track of time in their passion, the world outside forgotten until now.
Gently, he lowered her onto one of the balcony chairs, the cool stone beneath contrasting with her warm skin.
He reached for the sheet he'd brought from the room—a soft bed sheet he'd grabbed in haste—and draped it over her naked form, covering her carefully, protectively.
She placed the document on the small table before them, her movements deliberate despite her fatigue. He sat beside her, the moonlight casting silver highlights on his own bare skin, when she turned to him with a pointed look. "You covered me. What about you?"
He glanced down at himself, realizing his own nakedness, and started to rise. "Wait, I will come with a towel."
But she stopped him with a word. "Stop." Her eyes met his, a spark of something intimate there. "Just use this. Come in my bed sheet."