At the hotel in Fandel, Arabella had just finished her shower, her hair still damp. Her skin was pale as snow, and she was casually eating a large slice of watermelon, her relaxed movements exuding a certain unintentional allure. Soon after, Raven emerged from his own shower, the scent of blood washed away. His bare torso revealed defined chest and abdominal muscles. Holding the hotel's hairdryer, he lifted it and said, "Master Unknown, let me dry your hair."
"Mm," Arabella replied absentmindedly, spitting out a watermelon seed. Last night's battle had been intense, with numerous kills draining her energy. Now she lounged lazily on the sofa, resembling a sleepy lioness.
Raven's hands weren't particularly nimble, and for people like them, there was no fuss about something like blow-drying hair. But just for an instant, as he looked at Arabella tilting her head, a sense of peace and beauty rose in his heart. His fingers moved through her hair, and he turned his head slightly to look at Arabella. Her eyes were half-closed as if she was enjoying the moment, and a rare smile tugged at the corner of his lips. He realized that simply wanting to care for someone, to stay by their side for a lifetime, could feel so wonderful. Even if such happiness was built upon a mountain of corpses, he wouldn't regret it in the slightest.
After drying Arabella's hair, Raven leaned down from behind and pulled her into his arms. Arabella opened her eyes, reclining comfortably back on the sofa. She glanced at him sideways, wrapped an arm around his neck, and kissed him on the cheek. Raven's Adam's apple bobbed as his breathing grew heavier. From his angle, he had an unobstructed view of Arabella's chest, and his voice was husky with desire as he spoke: "Master Unknown, I want you." His gaze was wild, filled with primal yearning.
Arabella let out a soft laugh, using just one hand to pull Raven directly from behind her to in front of her. Raven offered no resistance, feeling a wave of bitterness in his heart as he insisted, "Master Unknown, I want you. I want to love you madly. I—" Before he could finish his sentence, Arabella suddenly sat up straight. His heart skipped a beat, already bracing himself for the punishment that was sure to come. Unexpectedly, Arabella moved her legs slightly and was already seated on his lap. Her hips shifted slowly, sliding directly to the base of his thighs. Through the thin layer of fabric, Raven could distinctly feel the contours of what lay beneath. A tremor ran through his heart, and his usually aloof and detached expression now revealed a fervent excitement, tinged with a certain ferocious and menacing intensity.
The thick, calloused palm of Raven traveled up the slender waist of Arabella and then grabbed the full, luscious breasts he had longed for. Arabella had a slender build but was not particularly sexy or flamboyant, but Raven loved to play with her breasts, squeezing and fondling them with great relish. The two of them tangled together, kissing passionately, and the temperature in the room was rising. Arabella was always bold and uninhibited, and she tore off Raven's bathrobe, revealing his naked body as he was pushed onto the sofa. Even under the dim light, the taut muscles of his body were clearly defined. He lay there in a relaxed, casual posture, that look of surrender to Arabella's will tinged with an almost uncontrolled desire, drawing a scoff of amusement from Arabella.
Arabella reached out and grabbed the thick dick firmly, and she narrowed her eyes as it jumped in her hand. The veins were tangled and rough to the touch. She skillfully moved her hand from the sagging sac to the tip, where she even mischievously tapped the slick, liquid-spewing tip. Raven pressed his lips together, letting out a muffled groan as his increasingly heavy breaths were swallowed by Arabella's descending kiss.
Arabella was rocking up and down on Raven's body, the huge and rough penis being sucked and pushed in and out of the tight and swollen vagina, the lascivious sounds echoing through the large room. Arabella was supporting herself on Raven's strong and muscular waist, while Raven was biting down on his teeth, he really wanted to thrust forward, but was stopped by Arabella's cold voice. With just one hand, Arabella restrained Raven. To keep him from getting in the way, she simply tied his hands securely with the bath strap. With Arabella in complete control, Raven could do nothing but endure the maddening pace. His hands were raised above his head, clenched tightly into fists, struggling to withstand the overwhelming waves of pleasure that surged through him.
The hand resting on his waist changed direction and began to tease the two nipples at Raven's chest, squeezing and twisting them before Arabella leaned in and licked the erect nipple. Raven tensed his entire body, swallowing saliva, he raised his head to reveal his sexy throbbing Adam's apple. Before he could recover from the wave of pleasure, the dick beneath him felt the soft sensations coming from all directions deep within. It was utterly intoxicating. Before he had the chance to savor it fully, his vision went dark as Arabella casually tossed her underwear over his head. Greedily licking his lips, Raven felt as though his entire being was drenched in Arabella's scent—a sensation that left him yearning uncontrollably. Through the underwear, in the hazy dimness, he felt her rise and press back into him again. She rode on his dick as if galloping, and the vagina clamped tightly around his dick, and the hidden desire deep within her spread out more and more.
Raven couldn't hold back and ejaculated. He rarely felt shy, but when it came to Arabella, he simply couldn't control himself. The time was too brief, and Raven shifted his waist uneasily. In his hoarse voice, thick with suppressed desire, there was an almost pleading tone, as if begging for mercy. "Master Unknown, Can I take the lead?" Arabella teased his prominent Adam's apple with her tongue for a moment before whispering softly, "I'll allow you to take me hard."
It was as if he had received a divine decree. The robe's sash snapped in response, and Raven, like a fierce panther, swiftly flipped Arabella over and pinned her beneath him. The earlier encounter hadn't tempered his fervor in the slightest. On the contrary, his desire surged even higher. He pounced like a ravenous wolf, savoring its prey with unrestrained hunger. He grabbed Arabella's white and tender legs and spread them open as far as possible, ramming and thrusting violently. This time, he wanted to show a good performance.
The room was in complete disarray. Nicholas panted heavily, his gaze fierce. His beautiful eyes were usually enchanting and alluring, with a seductive charm when the corners of his eyes lifted. But at this moment, with the excessive aggression in his gaze, he seemed especially cold and menacing.
Three years!
After all that effort, she actually brought that deranged counterfeit back.
Nicholas felt like all his passion had been poured onto an ancient, unyielding iron pillar. Frustrated, he nervously ran a hand through his hair, his well-defined fingers trembling. At that moment, Arabella's upper body leaned in through the half-open window, her face adorned with a playful smile as she asked, "Were you robbed?"
Perfect!
He hadn't noticed this woman's presence at all. Nicholas, of course, knew he couldn't defeat her, but he could lose his temper, vent his frustration.
Nicholas suddenly laughed, his refined features softening into a dangerously captivating charm. "Arabella, aren't you afraid I'm secretly sharpening my knife to ambush you?"
Arabella had already settled calmly on the sofa, observing his pallid face and trembling hands. Clearly, he was in a fit of rage. She muttered softly, "Madman."
Nicholas exploded in fury, his face even gaining a faint flush of color. "You bastard, you're the mad one! Risking your life for a dead man? Arabella, anything you want could be yours—this entire world could be beneath your feet!"
Arabella noticed that Nicholas was trembling all over, as if losing control. She had never quite figured this man out—he clearly had a heart as vicious as a demon, yet insisted on recklessly getting close to her. But she didn't need the world, nor did she need anyone to hand it to her. Whatever she wanted, she took for herself.
Tilting her head slightly, Arabella asked, "Nicholas, do you still remember our agreement?"
"Agreement?" Nicholas let out a cold laugh, feeling as though a hole had burned through his heart, and that hole was now being filled with corrosive liquid, determined to dissolve him into blood. Yet even so, he refused to let go of her, insisting on dragging both of them down together, entangled in mutual destruction. "You brought back that deranged waste, and you still care about our agreement?"
"Merrick is important."
Nicholas glared fiercely at Arabella, his eyes tinged with a sickly flush from his agitation. The corners of his mouth curled into a sinister smile as he hissed through gritted teeth, "Then don't blame me if I kill him. Arabella, Arabella—you heartless creature!" His insults grew louder, his voice trembling with intensity. Pointing a finger at Arabella, he stepped closer, seemingly unafraid of her.
Despite Nicholas's hysterical tirade, Arabella didn't lose her composure. Her gaze locked onto him, finding his face strangely familiar. Amid his flailing gestures, she saw glimpses of his true self—a mixture of madness and a pathetic, almost endearing stubbornness. As the distance between them closed, her eyes caught the shadows of their intertwined figures on the wall. She suddenly spoke, "Nicholas, many years ago, you saw me outside the Scalien Forbidden Zone, didn't you?"
Nicholas was stunned. He never expected Arabella to bring this up now. Years ago, to evade Scalien's surveillance, he had disguised himself, his face obscured, to sneak near the Forbidden Zone. What's more, in those days, his eyes had not yet been reshaped. For the sake of approaching Arabella, he underwent cosmetic surgery, erasing every trace of his former appearance. By all logic, Arabella would have no way of knowing—it simply wasn't possible. He stopped his ranting, his voice laced with doubt. "How did you know?"
"Your eyes," Arabella replied with a faint smile, staring into his. "The way you look at me now is very similar to how you did back then." In truth, they were exactly the same. Back then, living like a wild animal in the mountains, Arabella had grown accustomed to the fear and disgust in the eyes of the soldiers assigned to guard her, no matter how many rotations there were. Only one young man stood beyond the barricade, his face concealed but for his eyes, which gleamed like starlight. In his gaze shone unrestrained fascination and unguarded joy. She glanced his way only briefly, yet that look etched itself into her memory. After all, in the entirety of Scalien, apart from Cyrus, he was the only one whose eyes reflected something different when they beheld her.
Nicholas, hearing her mention his eyes, instinctively touched them. He thought she was looking at someone else through his eyes. A wave of sorrow washed over him—after all this time, her thoughts still revolved around the original owner of those eyes.
"Arabella, I just don't want you to lose your life over a dream from your youth. Keep Merrick, but don't go to Scalien. Please, just don't go," Nicholas pleaded. Nicholas was terrified of what this trip to Scalien might bring. Failure would mean Arabella's death—a thought that terrified him. But success scared him even more. Cyrus had been the taut line holding her together all these years. Finding Cyrus's body would mean the line snapping and the dream shattering. Once Arabella fulfilled her heart's desire, she vanished into solitude, erasing her own trail. From that moment on, she truly became someone no one would ever see again. And so, he yielded. Even if Arabella remained cold-hearted forever, he was willing to cling to her, follow her, and never let go—even to his death.
Arabella stared at Nicholas for a long time before abruptly pulling him closer. The man before her was truly both mad and obsessed. He hadn't changed over the years and likely never would. She withdrew the faint fake smile at the corner of her lips, her gaze darkening. Pressing her forehead against Nicholas's, she whispered in his ear, her words almost playful.
Moments later, Nicholas suddenly turned to look at Arabella, his eyes filled with ecstatic joy. Once he returned to his usual demeanor, the look in his eyes, which resembled Cyrus's, once again held a pure and gentle gleam, completely different from the crazed expression he had moments before. A smile slowly spread across his lips, curling up to his eyes.
"Arabella, if I ever find out you've lied to me, whether you're alive or dead, I'll haunt you forever."
