CHAPTER 33: CLAIMED BY DESIRE

[Elves’ Guest Room—Night—Leif’s POV]

And then, his lips curved in a raw, hungry smile. His forehead pressed to mine as he whispered, low and husky, "Tonight... I want you to moan my name, Leif."

. . .

. . .

I blinked.

Blinked again.

My brain stalled like a broken wagon wheel. His words echoed in my skull like a drum, heating my face until it felt like steam might burst out of my ears.

"WHA—WHAT DID YOU JUST SAY!?"I squeaked, scrambling off his lap so fast I nearly tripped over the blanket.

My knees wobbled, my heart felt like it wanted to break out of my ribs, and I pointed a trembling finger at him. "Y-You—you can’t just—say things like that so shamelessly!"

He tilted his head, blue eyes smoldering with amusement, as if my panic was the funniest thing in the world.

"You—!" I grabbed the nearest pillow and hugged it to my chest like a shield, fanning my burning cheeks with my free hand. "That wasn’t flirting—that was filthy! Do you even realize how bold you sound?"

I groaned into the pillow, mumbling. "Gods above, he is so...straightforward!?"

The next thing I knew, the pillow was yanked right out of my arms. I gasped, my defenses stripped away, as Alvar leaned in—closer, closer—until his breath fanned against my skin. His eyes locked on mine, burning.

"What’s wrong with that?" he murmured, voice deep and steady, the kind that coiled low in my stomach. "It’s going to happen—today or tomorrow. Isn’t that the same thing?"

My heart skipped. My breath hitched. My eyes widened, and before I could stop myself, my face turned away, red all the way to the tips of my ears. "You’re... you’re impossible."

He smirked, the corner of his lips curving before he pressed a soft kiss to my cheek—too gentle for the hunger in his gaze. Then his mouth trailed lower, teasing down to the side of my neck.

"Alvar—ah—wait—" My voice cracked, shaky, as heat jolted through me. His lips nipped at the sensitive skin, tongue brushing, teeth grazing. My hands pushed weakly against his chest, but they felt like useless noodles.

And then—his hand. It slid beneath my shirt again, warm and unrelenting, his fingers brushing against my nipples, circling slowly, deliberately.

"A-Ah... Alvar—" My head tipped back despite myself, a shiver running down my spine. "We... we shouldn’t do here—"

"Why not?" His voice was a low growl against my collarbone, lips brushing as he kissed and sucked, leaving sparks of fire on my skin.

"Because... because this isn’t our place," I stammered, every word unsteady, my body betraying me. "It’s... it’s inappropriate to... do this at someone else’s house." My face was burning so hot I could feel it in my scalp.

He paused, then hummed deep in his chest—a sound that made my knees feel weak even though I was sitting. He leaned back just enough to meet my eyes, his thumb stroking lazily across my shoulder.

"You’re right," he conceded, though his gaze hadn’t cooled in the slightest. His eyes flicked downward, lingering boldly at my nipples where my shirt hung open. His voice dropped to a whisper, husky and dangerous. "But, Leif... once we reach the estate—"

His gaze lingered, shameless.

"I won’t hold back."

My throat went dry. Words tangled in my mouth, but none came out. My chest rose and fell rapidly, my heart hammering loud enough I was sure he could hear it.

And then—slowly, deliberately—he buttoned my shirt back up, his fingers brushing my skin with every movement, as if mocking restraint. His smirk returned, softer now, but no less wicked.

"You’d better prepare yourself."

I swallowed hard, my entire body flushed and trembling.

Gods help me... what had I gotten myself into?

***

[Elves Village—The Next Day]

We stood at the shimmering border—the very place we’d stepped through yesterday. The portal hummed faintly, the air bending like water in sunlight. My foot tapped restlessly against the grass.

"They still haven’t come?" I muttered, glancing at the empty path. "What if they reject my proposal?"

Alvar’s warm hand slipped into mine, steady and grounding. His thumb brushed lightly against my knuckles. "Leif," he said with that calm certainty that always made my nerves stumble, "didn’t I tell you? They need you more than you need them. So—be patient."

I exhaled slowly, nodding, though my stomach twisted. "Easy for you to say," I mumbled.

And then, like shadows emerging from mist, a group of elves appeared, moving with their usual grace. "Oh...they are here."

The same elf from yesterday stepped forward, his golden eyes calm but respectful. He inclined his head. "We apologize for keeping you waiting, my lord."

A smile tugged at my lips, relief blooming in my chest. "No worries."

He raised a hand gently to continue. "This is Thalion,"—he gestured to a tall, silver-haired elf with sharp, elegant fingers—"one of our finest jewelry artisans." Then he motioned to the elf beside him, a softer figure with dark green hair woven in braids. "And this is Eryndor, a healer, unmatched in his knowledge of herbs and remedies."

Both elves bowed in perfect synchrony.

The first elf’s voice carried with quiet resolve as he declared, "They will represent our village. We have considered your words carefully and... we gladly accept your terms. Your wolves, your stones, your proposal—it is fair, and it is honorable."

My breath caught before I let out a disbelieving laugh. "You’ll really... accept it?"

Thalion tilted his head, his voice smooth and practical. "Your offer is bold. But more than that—it is honest. That, we value."

"And your wolves are terrifying," Eryndor added with a small smile. "That, we also value."

I couldn’t help grinning. "Then... we should seal this with a written agreement."

Thalion inclined his head, stepping forward gracefully. He stretched out his slender hand. "We will be honored to work alongside you, my lord."

I matched his movement, extending my hand. "And we will be honored to—"

But before my fingers could touch his, a sudden tug yanked me back.

"Eh—?!"

Alvar slid in front of me like a wall of steel, his hand catching Thalion’s firmly in a shake. His voice was calm and deliberate. "Let’s work together."

The elves blinked—clearly confused at the abrupt shift.

Alvar’s lips curved faintly, but the smile didn’t reach his eyes. "We will send a written agreement as soon as possible."

They exchanged glances, then nodded politely.

"Then we shall take our leave." Alvar straightened, his hand sliding down to rest firmly on my shoulder. "Let’s go, leif."

I opened my mouth, blinking. "Huh? Ah—Sure."

***

[Back to the Forest—Later]

As we stepped out of the portal, I glared at Alvar’s broad back with enough force to set him ablaze. He didn’t even bother turning—just muttered, cool as ever, "Leif... stop trying to burn a hole through me with your eyes."

I stomped to a halt, arms crossed tight. "Alvar. You do realize that was my handshake, right? My deal. Mine." My hiss sounded more like an angry kitten than a wolf, but still—I had principles.

He kept walking, infuriatingly calm, as if I hadn’t spoken. "Yes. But you don’t need to shake hands with another man, Leif. I can do that for you."

Heh...look at him, being all too possessive.

I blinked, then a slow grin crept across my lips. "You were jealous, weren’t you?"

Finally, he glanced at me. His expression was maddeningly composed, but his eyes—those storm-blue eyes—smoldered. "I don’t like anyone else touching you, leif. That hand is mine. You are mine."

My breath caught. "It was just a handshake!"

"Yet it made him touch you." His words landed like the edge of a blade, smooth but sharp.

. . .

Gods above.

My face went hot, laughter bubbling despite myself. "You’re ridiculous."

His stride slowed. Then, suddenly, he was in front of me, closing the space with a predator’s ease. An arm slid around my waist, pulling me against him until I could feel the steady thrum of his heartbeat under his chest.

His breath brushed my ear as he murmured, "No... I’m not ridiculous. I’m in love with you."

The world tilted. My stomach flipped, my chest burned, and my brain fried itself like an egg on a summer stone. My hands, traitorous noodles, shoved weakly at his chest.

"D-Damn it, Alvar—you’re too flirty!"

He chuckled low, the sound vibrating through me. Then, softer than a sigh, his lips brushed my temple—warm, lingering, dangerous. My knees threatened mutiny.

"You’re mine, Leif," he murmured, his voice almost tender as he took my hands in his. He drew my fingers to his mouth and pressed a slow, possessive kiss to my knuckles. "And... I hate any hand touching you."