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The world twisted.
A soft ripple of space folded around Marcelline's form as the teleportation enchantment activated. Her body dissolved into shimmering fragments of light before vanishing entirely.
The next second—
THUD.
She landed on polished marble.
Warm air.
Lavender-scented steam.
A dimly lit room with velvet shadows and towering bookshelves.
She blinked.
Marcelline:
"…okay, Alpha, either you upgraded my mansion without telling me,
or—"
She paused, eyes narrowing in confusion.
This… was not her mansion.
Different architecture.
Different furnishing.
Different aura — colder, darker, ruthless.
But before she could analyze further—
The bathroom door clicked.
Steam billowed out.
And then he stepped out.
Maximilian Brooks.
Tall.
Broad shouldered.
Water dripping down every carved line of his body.
His dark hair wet, pushed back,
droplets sliding along the sharp angle of his jaw before traveling down the thick column of his throat. sliding down his strong manly build abs..
A towel hung low around his waist — way too low — revealing the full V-line tapering into something lethal and sinful.
Marcelline's devilish eyes followed the water droplets smoothly dripping his strong muscular alluring body ...
Unapologetically.
Boldly.
Slowly.
Like she was tasting him with her gaze alone.
She has seen many immortal kings , leaders...who are symbol of handsomeness.
But she didn't expected living mortal to look like ancient Greek God...
She sucked her lips seductively like a predator ready to devour her pray slowly, wickedly , completely...
A wicked smirk curled on her lips.
Marcelline (soft, sinful):
"Well… this is a magnificent upgrade from my bedroom.
But the view…"
Her eyes swept down his torso again.
"…the view is exceptionally premium."
He froze for one second.
Just one.
Because he recognized her.
The woman who had reduced him — him — to a blushing, malfunctioning disaster last time.
The woman whose smile felt like poison on his skin.
The devilish goddess who shattered his composure with a single look.
Every vein in his arms tightened.
His jaw locked.
His eyes — cold, obsidian, intimidating — narrowed sharply.
He didn't speak.
He didn't need to.
His presence alone hit like a dark storm.
But inside?
Inside he was burning.
He hated that heat.
He hated that she caused it.
Marcelline stepped closer, each movement graceful, dangerous, dripping with wicked confidence.
She tilted her head, admiring him like he was art she planned to ruin. She stopped close enough, her lips lightly touching his..
Maximilian can feel her warm seductive breath on his lips..
Marcelline (low, playful):
"You look shocked. Don't tell me… you missed me?"
Maximilian's glare sharpened to a blade.
Maximilian :" What are you doing here.."
He voice cold , sharp like edge of knife .
Marcelline smirked while brushing her fingers like a soft fur from his lips ...chin..neck..middle of Broad chest..well built abs...slowly..hungrily...
she spoke (almost moaning) ,"..ohh me..?? I came to watch you taking shower thoroughly...
Her fingers riched the towel as she spoke her last words filled with hunger letting more warmth of her breath on his lips..
Before Marcelline could touch a towel Maximilian stopped her hand . He has to..!!!because he is already on edge of completely loosing it , It required him lots of courage not to pull her closer and fullfil his all monstrous desires of devouring her thoroughly like a devil...worst she is keep pushing him over a edge .
Maximilian greet his teeth trying to hold back and spoke even more coldly , "Answer "
Marcelline was amused by his expression like she is enjoying her new toy...
She replied with huge grin - " Told you already . Don't believe me ? How about you hop back into shower , that way I might give you ...
Clear demonstration of my truly honest desires..."
Maximilian's ears turn red as he cursed inside..'F*ckkkk..' but didn't push her away.
She walked closer.
He straightened, shoulders tightening, aura turning darker, colder.
She reached him.
He didn't step back.
Their auras collided —
His: ruthless, dominant, CEO-force, controlled like steel.
Hers: ancient, intoxicating, supernatural seduction humming through her veins.
The air thickened.
Electric.
Dangerous.
She lifted one finger and traced the air near his collarbone without touching.
Marcelline (whisper-soft):
"If this is Hollowmist… then I must say, its king keeps a beautiful throne room."
His breath hitched — barely — but she noticed.
A tiny betrayal of control.
That infuriated him.
Maximilian sopke— one word, low and sharp:
Maximilian:
"…Leave."
Not a request.
An order.
Cold.
Deep.
Commanding.
But she only smiled wider.
Marcelline (purring):
"After appreciating the scenery?
Not yet."
His hands curled into fists.
Because she was winning.
Again.
His aura flared — icy dominance pressing against her warmth.
But hers rose too — a devilish, goddess-level power that slid around him like velvet fire.
They stood inches apart.
His breathing tight, controlled.
Her smirk wicked, unbothered.
Maximilian leaned forward just a fraction — towering, intimidating, silent threat in every line of his body.
She whispered near his jaw:
Marcelline:
"You can't scare me.
You only make it more… entertaining babyness ."
---
KYRON ENTERS — CHAOS ENSUES
The tension between them crackled like a storm ready to explode.
And then—
SLAM.
The bedroom door burst open.
Kyron entered mid-sentence:
Kyron:
"Boss, the reports from—"
He froze.
Looked at Maximilian.
Looked at the towel.
Looked at the dripping water.
Looked at Marcelline.
Looked at the distance between them — barely a breath.
Kyron's soul left his body.
Kyron (whispering):
"…oh hell no."
Marcelline turned her head slowly, smiling innocently at him.
Marcelline:
"Good morning, Kyron."
Kyron's face went pale.
He remembered her too — the entity who knocked him unconscious without lifting a finger.
He looked at Maximilian who looked like he was seconds away from murder , implosion or edge of loosing something his is holding back with all his might .
Kyron (quietly panicking):
"Sir… is this… is she… are you—"
Maximilian shot him a single deadly glare.
Kyron shut up instantly.
Marcelline bit her lip at the silent domination.
Max was losing control — of the situation, of his reactions, of his body's entire temperature — and he hated every second.
Marcelline leaned closer, eyes glowing with wicked delight.
Marcelline (soft, devilish):
"If your assistant wants to stay…
I don't mind an audience."
Kyron:
"NO. NO I DO NOT— SIR, I'M LEAVING. I'M DEAD. GOODBYE."
He slammed the door behind him.
---
BACK TO THE DUO — FULL VOLTAGE TENSION
Maximilian turned back to her, anger simmering beneath the cold surface.
Chest rising.
Muscles flexing.
Eyes dark, sharp, dangerous.
He stepped closer — slow, deliberate, a silent reclaiming of space, dominance, dignity.
His voice was low, smooth, deadly:
Maximilian:
"Get out."
Marcelline smiled like a sin incarnate.
Marcelline:
"Make me."
Their auras clashed again —
Dark steel versus wicked fire.
The room felt too small for both of them.
The tension carnivorous.
---