The video kept playing long after Emma's eyes began to blur. She didn't remember the exact moment her thoughts drifted off or when sleep quietly pulled her under. Half-dreaming, she felt something warm slide around her calf. Her eyes blinked open to the sight of Edric's face hovering above her—all sharp jaw, dark eyes, and quiet heat. "Edric." Her voice came out low, hazy with sleep, the soft lilt at the end curling through the air like a whisper meant just for him. It hit him straight in the chest. Emma demanded, "Hug me." His throat worked once, slow and heavy. The look in his eyes darkened, all storm and restraint. His voice came rough, low, and sinful. "How do you want me to hold you, Emma?" He leaned closer. His fingers brushed her ankle first—slow, deliberate, fingertips tracing along her skin like he had all night to memorize it. His palm followed the line of her calf, climbing until his touch hovered above her knee.Emma trembled and tried to pull back, but he caught her easily, pressing her down with quiet strength. "Didn't you ask me to hold you?" His tone was soft but dangerous, low enough to shake something deep inside her. One arm braced beside her head while his body trapped her in place, the bed dipping under his weight. She was fully awake now, heart thudding, breath coming unevenly. Her fingers curled in his collar as she tipped her chin up. "Well... are you going to or not?" A ghost of a grin crossed his face as he scooped her up effortlessly. Emma gasped, her arms tightening around his shoulders. Naturally, her legs wrapped around his hips. She held on, floating, feeling weightless. "Like this?" His voice came hoarse, threaded with that smoky edge that made her shiver. His fingers skimmed the curve of her waist, teasing, barely there. Her cheeks flamed. Pressed against his chest, she could feel the steady rhythm of his heartbeat — hard, hot, fast. He lowered his head, his breath grazing her neck."Dinner's ready," he murmured, voice low enough to be a growl. "You want to eat first... or have me for dessert?" The air caught in her throat. Her lips parted, voice trembling. "You already know the answer." No one in their right mind could think about food right now. His laughter resonated against her skin, deep and commanding. With a fluid motion, he turned and gently laid her back on the bed, the world momentarily spinning before his lips met hers. The kiss was intense—passionate and commanding, leaving her momentarily breathless and disoriented. Her fingers moved up his back, nails gently etching faint marks into his skin, igniting a fiery sensation. He drew back just enough to speak, lips brushing her ear. His breath was hot, ragged. "Say my name, Emma." "Edric..." The sound came out soft, broken, trembling. "Again." His hand skimmed her side, his touch slow, patient, drawing shivers from her skin."Edric..." Her tone melted to honey. This time, she was the first to reach out, her lips meeting his again while her fingers wandered lower, tracing the ridges of his abs. He caught her hand and guided it further down, his voice rough with a smile. "Didn't you want to know how many I've got?" He leaned in closer. "Count for yourself." The sheets tangled beneath them. Her nightdress slipped down one shoulder, pale skin catching the moonlight. His mouth traced along the curve of her neck, each kiss deeper than the previous, until he reached her collarbone and left his mark there. A tail curled behind him, its deep purple scales shimmering softly in the dim light. It coiled around her calf, moving upward with slow, teasing strokes. The cool rasp of his scales against her skin made her gasp, her body arching involuntarily. The tail brushed higher, over the inside of her thigh. The sound that broke from her was swallowed by his next kiss—long, consuming, unstoppable.The room was alive with gentle movements, the faint whispering of sheets, and the steady rhythm of breathing. Moonlight streamed across the floor, their shadows dancing on the wall as two figures moved together and apart in smooth, flowing motions. Now and then, a muffled sigh escaped into the quiet, mingling with the soft tinkle of a silver chain by the headboard, creating a natural rhythm. ... Downstairs, silence hung heavy. Lucien sat stiffly on the couch, while Corvin slouched next to him. Silas leaned against a nearby pillar, his usual smirk barely visible in the low light. Across from them, Marcus stretched out on the other couch, eyes closed. In the corner, Malrik sat like a lump of fur, ears drooping—the picture of defeat. Ever since Silas had mentioned that Emma hated lies more than anything, Malrik had been stewing. The thought wouldn't leave him alone.What am I supposed to do now? Just stay a d*mn rabbit forever? How do I even tell Ms. Tibarn without her losing it? He'd thought about it all afternoon and still had nothing. Corvin finally broke the silence. He muttered, "Edric went up to get Emma and still hasn't come back. Guess he's not planning on it either." His eyes flicked over the others—Lucien's blank expression, Silas' lazy half-grin, Marcus' unconvincing sleep act. No reaction. Not even a twitch. Corvin groaned under his breath. "This is stupid. We're just sitting here doing nothing. You guys want to play something, or should we all just call it a night?" Either way, it wasn't like Emma was going to bond with all of them tonight. He turned toward Marcus. "You haven't gone back to your room since we got home. Don't you want to check out how I set it up for you?"