-- Gideon Dunkerson's POV --

The great dining hall of Dunkerson castle was ablaze with the warmth of firelight. I sit at the head of the oaken table, while both Queen Marinella, my mother, and Serra sit on both my side. This time, it is a private dinner for the three of us.

My mother is telling tales about the valor of knights and cunning dragons. She looks bright as she continues to speak, but I know my mother. When Serra returned, she had already raised her concerns to me. She fears that Serra might have another agenda.

I pushed it aside. Serra is nothing like that. She's the type to get tired of politics. Petty schemes are not really her forte. Serra is bright, but the type of straightforward smart who works diligently and focuses on the things they excel at. For her, it's her proficient skills in magic. Some call it genius-level though.

"Gideon, isn't that right?" My mother's voice pulls me back into the conversation.

"Hmmm?" I answer my mother.

I have been gazing for far too long at Serra, but I still don't shift my attention from her. Then I watch a blush on her cheeks as she looks down at her glass of wine. Yes, definitely not the type to think of the complications that my mother is warning me of. Besides, she knew about my cheating but still sacrificed herself to save me. Now, she's back again, and I promise that I won't give her any more reasons to hurt compared to what I've done a lot in the past.

"Gideon?" my mother asks again.

I nod at my mother, not really knowing what question I'm affirming. "Yes, indeed."

Her laughter fills the room, and I can see how the blush in Serra's cheeks became even redder. To hide it, she takes a sip of her wine, as if it's the most delicious thing ever. I glance at her lips. Oh! I want to kiss her again, to taste her skin, and hear her moans. It's been a while, I miss her so.

"I am asking when you are going to become intimate again. You need heirs from Serra, so tonight will be a great time."

"Oh," I say, so that explains the blush on her face.

Serra fidgets with her glass, her fingers tapping lightly against the crystal. So, I can't help but reach out and hold her hand, and she just fits perfectly into mine as if her hands are made to be held by only me.

Serra turns to look at me, her eyes are filled with uncertainty. "I..." she begins, but stops, biting at her lower lip. And the gesture is making me think of the different ways I can nibble on her lips.

"No pressure, Serra," I say, surprising myself with how strained my own voice sounds. "We don't have to rush into anything."

"I mean it's okay, but... I may not be up to par..."

Oh, my sweet, classic Serra. Always second-guessing herself other than magic. I reach to her cheeks and caress it. She blinks and gazes into my eyes. This is love. It's still there. So, I will do everything to treat her right this time.

"I assure you, Serra," I tell her, my voice getting deeper the more I feel my desire for her. "You've always been more than enough."

She swallows, her eyes shimmering in the light as they meet mine. My heart stutters at the sight. I will erase the doubts from her mind, and with time and assurance, she'd find the confidence and security in my love.

"Okay," she whispers.

My heart swells with a warmth I hadn't felt in a long time. Right now and here, I want to take her, to make her scream in her passions again. To give her all that I can. But all I did was to bring her hand to my lips, pressing a gentle kiss against her knuckles. I watch the emotions play over her face, the nervousness slowly giving way to something more tender, more trusting.

"You two lovebirds, just leave now, and do whatever you want in the comforts of your room," Queen Marinella suggests, waving her hand.

And so, we rise from our seats. Serra, who is still holding my hand, gives me a shy smile. We bid our goodbyes and leave the dining hall, the sound of our footsteps fading into the quiet of the castle corridors.

************************

I can feel the warmth of Serra's hand as we make our way back to my quarters after dinner.

"That was quite a feast," she comments, breaking the silence between us.

"Yes, my mother always makes sure that we have a grand meal whenever there are guests." I reply as I glance at her.

We reach my room, and I open the door for her, gesturing for her to enter first. She steps inside, looking around curiously at the lavish decor. I close the door behind me and walk over to stand beside her.

"Do you really want to do this with me tonight?" I ask. "Be intimate?"

She looks up at me. "It's my duty."

"I want it to be more than just a duty, though."

She looks up at me with those beautiful eyes of hers and I feel like I am drowning in them again. Her gaze always makes me second-guess things that I thought I was very sure of.

"Gideon?"

"Hmmm?" I ask.

My heart beats faster as she takes another step towards me until there is barely any space left between us. Without thinking, I reach out and take her hand in mine.

"Can I hold your hand?" I ask hesitantly, afraid of pushing her too far and making sure that she really wants me to hold her hand.

Serra doesn't say anything, but she doesn't let go of my hand either. Instead, she gently intertwines our fingers together and leans her head against my chest.

We stand there for what feels like eternity, just holding each other's hands and breathing each other's scent. It feels like all the troubles in the world have vanished, leaving only us.

"Your room is beautiful, Gideon," she murmurs into my shoulder. Her voice is soft as a gentle song, and it makes my heart skip another beat. "It's just as grand as everything else here."

With temporary courage, I ask, "Do you want to share this room with me?"

She chuckles, pulls a bit from me, and looks around. "If you were to invite me here, this place needs a bit more bookshelves," she suggests.

"Hmmm," I say, pulling her body back to me. She's soft, and she smells very nice. "I can prepare another room for all your towering bookshelves and I will fill them with ancient tomes."

"I hope it's far from this room?" she asks. "I still do dangerous experiments with magic."

"If it is far from this place, then let's add an ornate bed with velvet drapes in that room," I suggest.

But instead of giggling, she stiffens in my hold. I've gone too far, so I squeeze her body to mine and bury my face in her hair. But then, I was too late to remember that I... am already very ready to take her to bed.

"Sorry," I whisper, embarrassed at my body's reaction to her.

She pulls a little and looks down, then she blushes again, knowing exactly what I want to do now, with her.

"Can I prepare? I mean, I need a bath first."

I feel a pinch in my heart. I remember that before, we always took a bath before becoming intimate. I'm the one who puts that rule, making her feel as if she is always dirty.

"There's no need," I say, reaching for her hand and kissing each of her fingers.

"I also need to explore your room first. I mean, this is an enormous room," she remarks as my lips make their way to all her fingers.

I glance at her face. There it is. She's as red as a beet. She is feeling this; I am sure. And so, with a playful smile, I say, "If you want to explore, we can do that."

There is a pause and then, she stammers, "Y-you mean, explore the room, right?"

I shake my head and wind my arms around her waist. When I pull her back to me, she squeals in surprise, and it sounds so good in my ears.

"No, Serra," I murmur, reaching up to lightly trace her face with my fingers. Her reaction to my touch made my pulse quicken in response. "I meant the exploration of us."

She blinks at my words, the blush on her cheeks deepening. The interplay of fear and desire in her gaze fans the embers of my growing desire to own her again.

"Serra?" I ask, trying to get her consent.

She takes an uneasy breath, and then her eyes flutter shut as she leans into my touch.

-- Back To Serra’s POV --

With Marinella around, I’m careful about using my magic to fake the blush on my cheeks. I also make sure that I don’t use too much glamour or else, she will notice the constant use of my magic even when I am unconscious.

I tiptoe towards Gideon while my eyes are still closed. Earlier, I saw the delight in the way he looks at me, as if he is living in his past. And in his imagined past, he is not an asshole-cheating-jerk-of-a-husband.

Gideon presses forward, and I place my palm against his chest. His body is still rock-hard, nice to look at, but never good at cuddling. It’s all fine, though. For me, cuddles are never his utility. Besides, even before, he had never been the one to cuddle. After our copulation, he will never snuggle next to me. He would even evade my touch and so I learned not to pester him with it.

“Gideon...” I whisper.

“Can I kiss you?” he asks.

I nod faintly. “Yes,” I respond. “Please...”

I feel him shudder under my palm. He leans into me and presses his lips to mine. And I... I forget to breathe for a while. His lips are soft and warm. It is a familiar sensation that almost makes me lose myself.

But then, reality crashes down on me and I remember all the lies and betrayals that shattered our marriage. All the anger rushes to my head. I want to push him away. I want to violently lash at him, to give him back all the hurt I felt because of loving him. And yet, the rationality still wins, so I stiffen instead.

Sensing it, Gideon runs his tongue on my lips, tasting me as his hands rise to cup my face. He tries to deepen the kiss, parting my lips so we can be more intimate, but I stay rigid. I thought about this part of my revenge before. I told myself that I will enjoy myself, that I will take and take from him, but it seems like I will need more time to get used to this, or else I will lose sight of my goal.

Suddenly, he breaks the kiss. “Serra,” he begs, as if breathing into me. “Open your mouth. Let me kiss you deeper.”

I open my eyes and peer through my lashes, and I still say, “Okay.”

I reach for the back of his head and lean closer. I open my mouth and let him in. His tongue, warm and insistent, plunges into the recesses of my mouth, awakening a dormant desire. He is still a great kisser, that when I thought I lost desire for another person, here it is again. The desire is still present, pooling in my belly as I remember all the nights we shared. I guess those nights are the only good times I shared with him.

His hands move to my hair, fingers threading through its strands, as he pulls me closer to his body, squeezing me into him as if he wants to merge his body to mine, I pull back and notice that his eyes are still focused on my lips.

“Gideon, a little gentler...”

The instant I am done speaking, he pulls me into him again, like a man parched. His breaths merge with mine as he continues to explore the terrain of my mouth, licking and probing, sending jolts of pleasure radiating from my lips down to my toes.

Strangely though, as intense as the sensation may be, it does not drown the bitterness. This is Gideon. The man who lied and betrayed our vows. The man who broke my heart into a million pieces. I can’t deny that I’m torn. My injured heart screams for me to push him away, my brain tells me to control our lovemaking so I will have the upper-hand, and my body craves more of his touch.

It’s a perilous dance that I am engaging in, and it’s taking my all to keep up. The pain of our past and the sweet desire of the present are clashing, creating a noisy mix of raw emotions that’s too loud to ignore.

“Oh god, Serra...”

I pull back and I realize what I have done. I have jumped into him, my legs around his hips, his hands under my butt as he carries my weight.

I exhale softly, and my fingers trace the outline of his jaw. “You don’t like this?” I ask, and I realize that my voice is coming in short gasps.

He doesn’t answer. Instead, he simply holds me close, as if fearing that I’d escape if his grip slackens even the slightest. His lips brush against mine once more, the heat from his breath threatening to drive me crazy — with lust, nothing more.

“Don’t move...” he whispers, his voice trembling the same as mine, and I realize that he is aching for my touch as much as I lust after him. “Or I might lose it.”

His eyes bore into mine, full of raw passion and desire. But there’s also sorrow lurking in the depths of those dark pools. Is it guilt over his past actions? Regret over the pain he has caused me? Or is it simply the fear of losing his useful mage again?

“Are you okay?” I ask, my arms tightening around his neck.

He doesn’t answer immediately. Instead, he pulls me closer until our bodies are pressed together. The heat from his skin seeps through my clothes, igniting a fire within me that I thought was long extinguished.

“Please, Serra,” he implores, his voice low and husky. “Can I make love to you again?”

“Yes,” I whisper before capturing his lips once again.

While I am in his arms, he strides towards his bed with ease, never breaking the intense kiss between us. I fall back onto the soft, plush mattress as I settle into the bed, watching him as he takes his clothes off.

Gideon is still a masterpiece, a Lycan king outside. Every inch of his muscular torso exudes raw strength. His skin, kissed by the sun, is sweat-sheened. He also has a perfect face, and he only looked better during the time we were separated. He is a man so beautiful that the naive me never even thought that he was just a beautiful mask. And this perfect facade is the reason an ordinary mage like me aspired to become his wife, not knowing that I will be trapped in pain instead.

His unrestrained gaze meets mine and something primal flashes within them. He crawls onto the bed, hovering above me, his hot breath fanning my face as he lowers himself down onto me. His lips devour mine in a kiss that sears through my veins like liquid fire, making me gasp out at the intensity.

“Serra,” he murmurs against my skin, his fingers tracing the contour of my face, making me blush furiously.

I reach out, running my fingers through his dark hair, pulling him down for another of his searing kisses. His hands roam over my body, teasingly slow, unleashing a tsunami of sensations that leaves me moaning into his mouth.

“This time is ours,” he whispers.