Chapter Seventy-Two

———The memories continue———

“You’re back.” Shadowmoon looked at the person before her and curled her lips into a smile, tinged with desolation and an inexplicable emotion.

The newcomer shook his head of golden hair, a wicked smile curving his lips as he sat on the large bed in front of Shadowmoon. Propping himself up with his arms, he gazed at her. “Yes, I’m back.”

Shadowmoon cast a glance at the man, then rose and walked to the window, letting herself sink into the violet drapes. Her voice floated through the wind, ethereal and distant.

“You’ve come at the perfect time. The wedding ceremony between your father and me is just about to begin.”

Arthur slipped behind Shadowmoon in a flash, his tall, muscular frame pressed tightly against her back, leaving no space between them. His hands wandered along her waist. His right hand pressed on her lower abdomen, pushing her firmly backward so that her hips were pinned hard against Arthur’s body, while his left hand moved slowly upward, caressing and teasing her chest. Warm breath brushed the nape of her neck.

“With such a tender body, I doubt you’ll be able to withstand my father’s strength!” Arthur’s burning lips pressed against Shadowmoon’s neck. As he spoke, he extended his tongue, tracing wet lines across her delicate skin, then bit down with a loud smack.

“Hiss—” Shadowmoon gasped, “What are you doing?”

Arthur chuckled lightly, his tongue gently lapping at the crimson mark blooming on Shadowmoon’s fair neck. “Nothing much. I just feel a little... ‘hungry’.”

“Hungry?” Shadowmoon doubted Arthur’s words. “Would you really go hungry?”

“How could I not?” Arthur replied, licking the mark again. “I’ve traveled night and day, rushing back especially for your wedding feast!”

Ignoring Shadowmoon’s struggles, Arthur continued to caress her slender body, his touch charged with ambiguous intent.

Hearing this, Shadowmoon’s face paled. She broke free from Arthur’s grasp with effort, turned around, her eyes rimmed red as she stared at him intently. “Then you’d better fill yourself up. After all, when we walk into the church, you’ll need to hold my hand and give me away to your father.” Her lips curled into a seductive smile. “After all, you’re considered family now, aren’t you?” As she spoke, she lifted her gloved hand and gently stroked Arthur’s cheek, her violet eyes glimmering with strange light. “Isn’t that right?”

Arthur looked at Shadowmoon’s enchanting face, his expression darkening for a moment before he flashed a soul-stirring smile. “That’s right. I suppose I am the one closest to you now.” Without a care for Shadowmoon’s stunned expression, he suddenly lowered his head and bit her lips fiercely, sucking and gnawing, the sound echoing in the air.

“You... what are you... doing?” Shadowmoon came to her senses, twisting away, her lips trembling with whispered protest, her arms pushing desperately against Arthur’s rigid chest.

Arthur’s left arm locked Shadowmoon tightly in his embrace, leaving no room for escape. His right hand held her head fast, refusing her any chance to resist or evade.

Unable to push Arthur away, Shadowmoon could only slap frantically at his back.

At last, when Shadowmoon was nearly faint from lack of air, Arthur released her lips, gazing at her with a hazy look. Between their mouths, a strand of silver glistened in the sunlight, dazzlingly bright. Arthur eyed Shadowmoon’s swollen lips and the ambiguous silver thread, his wicked smile deepening as he snapped the strand with a loud smack.

———The memories are not yet finished———