"Tell me, who taught you to set up this room? And those clothes—who told you to wear them like that?" Emma asked, brushing lightly against Corvin's skin. Her touch was weightless, almost teasing. Corvin felt no pain—only a faint, ticklish shiver that made him squirm. He shifted uneasily, guilt flashing across his face before he blurted, "Emma, if I tell you, don't get mad, alright?" He really was hopeless—beyond building mechs, he knew absolutely nothing about anything else. "Alright." Emma nodded, her expression serious. "Relax. I promise I won't get angry." Only then did Corvin exhale in relief. "It was Silas. I asked Silas for help. I... I don't know much apart from building mechs, so I had to ask him." Of course it had been Silas. Emma's lips curved faintly. "So Silas was the one who taught you how to set Marcus' room up too?"Corvin nodded again. "Yeah. Marcus said he wanted to decorate a room you'd like. He told me to get advice from Silas. You know, in our place, Silas is the best at making you happy." A Rank 10 beast core had paid for two rooms that suited Emma's taste. Honestly, it was worth every bit of it. "Rooms I like?" That's pure slander. Silas is misunderstanding me. I'm completely innocent, okay? Emma clenched her jaw. She was definitely going to teach Silas a lesson tomorrow. Corvin noticed the sudden silence. His tail coiled nervously, then crept closer. "Emma," he murmured, "can you kiss me?" He adored her most when she acted all commanding. It made his beast heart pound uncontrollably. When Emma looked down at Corvin's flushed, handsome face, she tugged the tie from his collar and looped it securely around his wrists. Then, without hesitation, she leaned in and captured his mouth.His breath caught instantly. The moment her lips touched his, his mind went utterly blank. The kiss began soft as a feather's brush, but it deepened quickly. Emma's fingertips traced along his wrists, tightening the tie bit by bit. The slick leather glided across his skin, sending faint tremors down his arms. "Oh..." Corvin's low groan slipped out as he instinctively strained against the restraint—only for Emma's other hand to pin him down, firm and unyielding. His tail had already wrapped around her waist of its own accord, the fur rasping faintly against her clothes. His ears burned, his breath came uneven, and their foreheads rested together. "Emma..." His voice grew hoarse, the tip of his tail coiling tight. "Stop torturing me." Emma's lips trailed from his jaw to his Adam's apple. Her teeth grazed the skin with a light, deliberate nip. "Beg me," she whispered. Corvin's breathing turned ragged.Her mouth hovered over his throat, teeth brushing that small, pulsing spot—not hard enough to hurt, but just enough to make him tremble, like a hunter toying with its prey before the final bite. His chest rose and fell rapidly. The tie pressed against his wrists, leaving faint red imprints. And still, he didn't want to break free. Not even a little. He wanted her to push further, to take him apart. "Please..." His voice came out wrecked and low. His tail tightened around her waist, the fluffy tip slipping under her hem to graze her lower back in a slow, deliberate sweep. "Emma." Emma's slender fingers trailed down his chest. "Good boy." ... The night deepened, their breathing tangled in the dark. Corvin lay sprawled on his back among the disheveled sheets. The tie around his wrists had loosened, but it still circled there faintly—a mark of possession that hadn't faded. He played idly with the strip of leather, a lazy smile curving his lips. Turns out, being under someone's thumb could be dangerously addictive. Emma lay curled at his side, absently twirling the tip of his tail between her fingers. "What's so funny?" she murmured, nudging his calf with a soft kick. Corvin rolled over and pinned her beneath him, burying his face in the curve of her neck as he breathed her in deeply. He couldn't resist rubbing his nose there like a beast claiming its mate. "I'm not telling you," he mumbled. ... Two days later, Emma blinked awake, her mind hazy. Above her stretched a ceiling woven from deep-blue vines. Tiny transparent blossoms bloomed among them, with pearl-pink beads nestled in between—each bead the size of a pigeon egg. Silas' room? Wasn't I supposed to be in Corvin's? How did I end up in Silas'? When Emma sat up, a faint breeze stirred through the air. The flowers and pearls trembled, falling loose from the vines, and in their place, silver-white leaves slowly unfurled. Petals drifted down, landing on her skin before vanishing instantly. The pearls, though, dropped onto the bed one after another—yet not a single one struck her. Emma picked one up and studied it closely, her eyes widening as realization hit. Every single pearl was real. But hasn't Kieran been unable to cry pearls lately? Then where does Silas get so many, especially ones this big? She flicked on her lightcore to check the time. Another two full days had passed. Indeed, her stamina could never match that of a male Etherian. Not even close.