Awakening Domination System: But I'm a Slave?-Chapter 227: Fall Of Valtair [23]

The carriage rolled steadily through the night.

The interior swayed gently with each bump and turn.

Alaric sat alone, one arm draped casually over the armrest, his gaze fixed on the passing darkness beyond the glass.

Then the shadows beneath the carriage rippled.

And suddenly a hooded figure sat on the seat across from him.

Alaric didn’t flinch. Didn’t even glance over. Just continued watching the window.

The figure reached up with gloved hands and pulled back her hood. Then her fingers found the edge of the dark mask covering the lower half of her face and tugged it down.

Her amber eyes gleamed in the dim light. Auburn hair spilled free, catching what little illumination filtered through the window and turning it copper-gold.

They sat in silence.

The carriage continued its steady rhythm.

Finally, she spoke.

"First, you decided to give the mines to Valtair." Her voice was controlled, but edged with confusion. Maybe frustration. "And now you’ve traded the only prepared weapons made from Vernacite to Rothgar."

She leaned forward slightly.

"What are you doing young master?"

Alaric smirked, titling his head, redirecting his gaze from her to the window, to the bright moon hanging in the night sky, surrounded by a spray of stars that looked like scattered diamonds.

"You’ll see."

He said quietly.

"Just wait."

Sari stared at him.

But finally, she nodded.

Then she leaned back against the seat, mirroring his relaxed posture, and said nothing more.

Silence settled between them again.

Time passed.

Minutes stretched into an hour. Then longer.

The landscape shifted gradually. Finally, the carriage began to slow.

And stopped at the main entrance of the manor.

The door opened from outside.

Alaric stepped out first. He stretched slightly, rolling his shoulders, then adjusted his coat.

Sari emerged behind him, silent as always. She pulled her hood back up, the dark mask sliding into place to hide her features once more.

They stood there for a moment in the cool night air. Then she turned to face him fully and bowed.

"Good night, young master."

Before Alaric could respond, the shadows folded around her like wings closing.

And she was gone.

Alaric stood alone, looking at the spot where she’d vanished.

Then he turned toward the entrance.

His footsteps were quiet on the gravel, as he reached the stone steps leading up to the doors. They opened before. A servant on night duty, bowing respectfully.

"My lord. Welcome home."

Alaric stepped inside and walked through the hallways. The estate was quiet, most of the household had retired, leaving only the occasional servant on night duty moving through the lower floors.

Then he noticed it.

Light spilling from beneath Selene’s study door.

He paused.

She’s still up?

His hand came up and twisted the knob without hesitation, swinging the door open.

"You should knock before opening the door."

Selene spoke, listening the creak of door opening, though her eyes were still fixed on whatever document lay spread across her desk.

Her quill scratched against parchment, adding notes in her precise handwriting.

"And I told you to rest."

His voice cut through her concentration like a blade.

Her hand stilled. The quill hovering above the paper. Then her head snapped up, eyes widening slightly as she registered his presence.

"Alaric—"

But he was already moving.

The door closed behind him with a soft click. His hand found hers and gently took the quill from her fingers, setting it aside.

Then he pulled her.

Selene rose from her chair, stumbling slightly from the sudden motion.

"I already rested enough." She started to protest, her free hand bracing against his chest. "I just needed to finish reviewing these contracts before—"

"No."

His tone was gentle but absolute. His other hand found her waist, steadying her, keeping her close.

"You need to take care of yourself. It’s already late night."

"But the—"

"No."

He pulled her closer. His hand on her waist tightened slightly.

She opened her mouth to protest again but before the words could form, he leaned down.

His lips brushed against her nose. A feather-light touch that carried more affection than command.

"No," he murmured against her skin.

Her breath hitched in her throat.

And before she could recover, his mouth crashed against hers.

Not gentle this time.

Hungry.

His lips captured hers with the kind of intensity that erased thought, that demanded response rather than asking for it.

One hand remained at her waist, anchoring her against him. The other came up, fingers threading through her hair, tilting her head to deepen the kiss.

She tasted like tea and something uniquely her, sweet and slightly bitter.

His tongue swept across her lower lip, looking for entrance, and when she gasped, he took advantage of it by deepening the kiss further, exploring, claiming, memorizing the shape of her mouth against his.

Selene went still for a heartbeat.

Her hands pressed against his chest.

Then she melted.

The tension bled from her shoulders, her spine softening as she surrendered to the moment.

Her fingers curled, fisting in his coat, bunching the fabric as if she needed something to hold onto. Her other hand came up, cupping his jaw, feeling the warmth of his skin.

"Mhm~"

A small sound escaped her throat. Half-moan, half-sigh.

Alaric’s hand at her waist tightened, pulling her against him. His other hand slid from her hair to the back of her neck, thumb brushing the sensitive skin just below her ear.

They moved without conscious decision, bodies swaying, feet shuffling, caught in the momentum of desire.

Thud!

Then Selene’s back hit the couch.

Alaric guided them backward, never breaking the kiss, his lips moving against hers with increasing urgency. One arm wrapped fully around her waist. The other braced against the couch’s back.

Then he pushed.

Selene tumbled backward onto the cushions with a surprised sound that was muffled by his mouth still claiming hers.

She landed on the armrest, half-sitting, half-reclining, and before she could process the change in position, Alaric was there, looming over her.

One knee braced on the couch beside her hip. One hand planted on the armrest near her shoulder. His body caging hers, surrounding her with warmth and intent.

He kissed her again. Deeper. Harder.

His free hand roamed, sliding down her side, tracing the curve of her waist, her hip, feeling the soft fabric of her blouse and the softer body beneath. His fingers found the hem where fabric met skin, and he paused.

Just for a moment.

His thumb brushed against bare skin at her waist, making her shiver.

He smirked against her lips, breaking the kiss just long enough to trail his mouth along her jaw, down to the sensitive spot below her ear.

"You work too hard," he murmured against her neck, his breath hot and teasing.

She gasped, arching slightly beneath him. "Alaric—!"

His hand moved upward, fingers catching the hem of her blouse, beginning to lift.

But then—

Knock! Knock!

The sound shattered the moment like glass.

"Urgh!" Alaric groaned.

Selene went rigid beneath him. Her eyes snapped open, panicked and she shoved his chest hard.

Alaric stumbled back, caught off-balance, and Selene scrambled upright. Her hands flew to her face, wiping at her lips, adjusting her disheveled blouse, trying desperately to compose herself.

Her cheeks were flushed crimson. Her hair was mussed. Her breathing came fast and shallow.

She looked thoroughly kissed.

Alaric pulled away from the couch, frustrated.

Of all the fucking timing...

Knock!

"Lady Selene? Are you still awake?"

A servant’s voice came from outside.

Selene shot Alaric a panicked look, then cleared her throat.

"Y-Yes! One moment!"

Her voice came out slightly strangled, and she shot him another glare that clearly said fix yourself.

Alaric adjusted his coat, ran a hand through his hair, and forced his expression to neutral.

Then he moved toward the door.