Atlas's attention shifted from Elizabeth back to Luminaria.
Gifting me your daughter… how shameless can you be? he inwardly remarked. But strangely, the thought was not laced with insult. In fact, to Atlas, it felt more like a compliment than anything else.
Though… this proves you're far more devoted than I thought, he mused, his lips curving faintly at the realization.
"Do you want us to begin immediately, or are you still busy with something?" Elizabeth asked, successfully drawing Atlas's attention once more.
"Yes, but I have something to give to your mother first," he replied, his lips curling into that usual scheming smirk that always carried more weight than his words. "We can immediately start after that."
Atlas tapped his lap, his eyes fixed on Luminaria with clear intent. She understood the message instantly —but to his mild surprise, she didn't move right away.
His smirk didn't waver, but his fingers tapped again, this time sharper, more aggressive, though his face remained a mask of calm control.
This time, Luminaria immediately rose to her feet and obediently sat on Atlas's lap.
Elizabeth's eyes widened, confusion flashing in her gaze. What exactly is going on here…? she asked herself, her heartbeat quickening.
Atlas leaned closer, his lips brushing against Luminaria's ear as he whispered in a tone that was velvet and steel all at once:
"Next time you fail to act immediately on my call, you won't receive your rewards for a month —no blood, not even the slightest touch of my hand upon your body."
Luminaria's expression faltered at her Master's displeasure. His words cut her heart like a cold blade. The mere thought of losing her access to his blood and warmth was unbearable, and her soul recoiled at the punishment he threatened.
Her expression only softened when the warmth of his lap steadied her, wrapping her in that intoxicating presence of his.
"Luckily for you, your gift is truly spectacular," Atlas said smoothly, his eyes glinting. "So you've earned this."
His lips pressed against hers.
The warmth that bloomed within her body was unlike the usual wholesome calm his touch brought. No, this warmth was far more dangerous —naughtier, intoxicating, igniting her body in ways she had not prepared for.
Her legs trembled, a strange heat tightening within her lower body. She felt as though something was going to spill out of her womanhood. Before she could even reach the peak of that rising wave, Atlas pulled away, severing the kiss.
"Bring me an even greater gift," Atlas said with a devilish smirk, "and I'll give you something more than just a kiss." His voice dripped with temptation, a command disguised as a promise.
Luminaria, flushed and trembling, stood from his lap when ordered. She could already sense the hostile waves of energy radiating from Elizabeth, so rather than return to her chair, she turned swiftly and left the chamber, heading toward her office.
Atlas's grin widened at the sight of Elizabeth's expression. Envy. Jealousy. Both emotions radiated from her as if they were tangible heat.
"What was that?!" Elizabeth demanded aggressively, her eyes flashing as she stood.
"What?" Atlas asked, feigning innocence, his tone light, as though he truly didn't understand what she meant.
"You —kissing my mother," Elizabeth snapped, her voice edged with frustration.
"Oh, you mean that?" Atlas's tone remained casual, dismissive. "Well, that's just our usual way of thanking one another. I was simply thanking her for bringing you to me."
Elizabeth's eyes widened, her aggression faltering. "What?… That's how you and my mother thank each other?" she asked, her voice suddenly quieter, uncertain.
"Yes. Is there something wrong with that?" Atlas asked smoothly, his expression unreadable.
"Yes, there is! Can't you see that?" Elizabeth retorted, her conviction strong but her voice softer than before.
"No, I see absolutely nothing wrong with our way of giving thanks," Atlas replied calmly. "And stop being so overly dramatic. It was just a kiss."
Before Elizabeth could respond, Atlas stood abruptly, catching her off guard. Without warning, he leaned in and kissed her lips.
The contact froze her in place, her body stiffening before melting into the kiss. Seconds passed, then Atlas pulled away, his expression unreadable.
"See?" he said, his tone deliberately calm, "there's nothing wrong with kissing."
Elizabeth's face flared crimson, her mind spinning with the sensation still lingering on her lips. "Hihihihi…" she giggled to herself uncontrollably, her eyes half-dazed, clearly trapped in the memory of his kiss.
Atlas gave her a sharp look, his expression carrying Are you serious? Disbelief.
"Elizabeth," he called firmly, snapping her out of her trance.
She blinked rapidly, then turned to him. "What?" she answered, almost absentmindedly.
This only deepened Atlas's curiosity. This woman… he thought, both amused and calculating.
"Oh, right," Elizabeth suddenly remembered, her lips curling into a smile far too shameless for her earlier outrage.
"We were still talking about you kissing my mother. You were right, Atlas —there's absolutely nothing wrong with the way you two say thank you." Her eyes gleamed mischievously. "In fact, I don't mind if you say thank you that way to me."
"Hahaha…" Atlas muffled a laugh, his voice carrying both amusement and intrigue as he looked at her.
"You're really beautifully cute, you know that," Atlas said, his tone a mixture of teasing and sincerity. His hand reached forward with deliberate slowness, his fingers curling beneath her chin. He tilted her head upward ever so slightly, forcing her to meet his sharp, unwavering gaze.
Elizabeth's breath hitched, her light-brown eyes shimmering with a mixture of embarrassment and enchantment. Her cheeks warmed under his touch, her body stiff yet eager, caught between fluster and fascination.
Atlas smirked at her reaction, then just as casually as he had leaned in, he straightened his posture. His hand left her chin, but the ghost of his touch lingered on her skin.
Nonchalantly, as though their exchange meant little to him, he turned on his heel and began walking toward the exit of the mansion.
"Let's start with our training," he said calmly, his back to her now, his voice echoing like a command rather than a suggestion.
Elizabeth stood frozen for a heartbeat, her mind replaying his words, his touch, and that piercing gaze. Her heart drummed in her chest as if urging her to move. She stared at his retreating figure, utterly charmed —no, ensnared— by him.
Her lips parted in a faint, involuntary smile, then she rose to her feet with graceful urgency. Without hesitation, she followed after him, her steps light but hurried, eager not to fall too far behind.