"What do you think I am?" He asked quietly. "Who I am?"

The question made her breath catch.

She turned to study his profile in the firelight, noting the way shadows carved his features into something almost otherworldly.

Handsome. Dangerous.

"Y-You..."

Her heart skipped a beat.

"You're... making me nervous."

The admission slipped out before she could stop it. She turned away quickly, ears flushing red.

Alaric smirked.

"Am I?"

The leather sofa creaking beneath his weight as he shifted closer, close enough that she could smell soap.

"How so?"

Her pulse jumped at her throat. She pressed her lips together.

"You've been different lately, less... controlled."

"I'm always controlled."

Then he moved his hand, thumb brushing the back of her neck, barely contact.

She flinched at the touch, then immediately hated herself for the reaction.

"Don't." The word came out sharper than intended.

"Don't what?" But his hand stilled, hovering just above her nape.

"Don't touch you? Or don't notice how you respond when I do?"

Heat flooded her cheeks. She reached for her wine glass again, using the motion to create distance, but he caught her wrist gently.

"You're shaking." He said calmly.

She stared down at their joined hands and bit her cheek.

Stop.

She said internally, tried to pull away, to restore the proper boundaries.

But... she found herself studying the contrast, the way his thumb rested against her pulse point.

"Let go." She protested weakly.

"Should I?" His voice was barely above a whisper.

"Or would you prefer I pretend not to notice what's happening?"

"Nothing's—" She started to deny it, but the words died as he turned her hand palm up, his thumb tracing the delicate veins at her wrist.

"Your pulse is racing." The observation was clinical. "It has been for days. Every time I'm near you."

She tried to jerk her hand away, but his grip tightened just enough to keep her still.

"Selene, you always watch me." His other hand moved to her face, knuckles brushing her cheek so lightly she might have imagined it, making her flinch again.

"During meals, when you think I'm not looking. In the corridors when you follow just far enough behind to seem coincidental."

"I don't—"

"Yesterday, you stood outside the training room for twenty minutes."

His thumb found the hollow of her throat, and rested there.

"Watching me spar. What were you thinking about, Selene?"

The use of her name, combined with his touch, made something clench low in her stomach.

She bit her lower lip, trying to center herself.

"I should go to bed."

She said, her voice shaking. But instead of pulling away, she leaned closer to his touch, her body betraying every rational thought.

"Should you?" His hand cupped her jaw now, thumb tracing the line of her lower lip.

"You could walk away, pretend this conversation never happened. Pretend you don't think about me when you're alone in your room at night."

Her breath hitched audibly.

"You're being presumptuous."

"Am I?" He moved closer, close enough that she could feel his breath against her temple.

"Then tell me I'm wrong. Tell me you don't wonder what it would feel like."

The challenge hung between them, loaded with implications she didn't dare examine.

She opened her mouth to deny it, to restore the careful distance that kept everything manageable.

But, she found herself unable to move.

His hand curved around the back of her neck, fingers warm against her skin as she tilted her face up to his.

Her breath faltered.

No. This is wrong.

Every instinct screamed to pull back, to retreat into the armor she always wore. Instead, her eyes fluttered shut as if against her own will.

The space between them dissolved.

Her lips found his, tentative, trembling, before hunger tore through hesitation.

"Hmmm~"

She made a low sound in her throat, fingers sliding into his hair, pulling him closer.

His mouth was warm, insistent. His hand at her waist radiated heat through silk.

She could feel the rough scrape of his teeth when he deepened the kiss, the faint catch of breath between them, the rustle of fabric as she leaned into him.

He tasted like wine and something uniquely him.

When they finally broke apart, the world felt off-kilter, as if the firelight itself had shifted. She drew in ragged breaths, lips tingling and slightly swollen, body still leaning toward him despite herself.

Her carefully arranged hair had come completely loose, dark strands spilling over her shoulders.

For a moment, she stayed there, eyes half-lidded and glassy with unshed tears. Wine and warmth and the taste of him still clouding everything. She looked almost lost.

Then—

Then reality struck.

"Ah!"

Her lashes fluttered, a sharp blink as though she'd been shaken awake.

A tremor ran through her chest before she abruptly shoved him back and lurched to her feet, the sofa groaning in protest.

The room tilted from wine or shock of the situation, she couldn't tell.

She staggered a step back, heels clicking against the polished floor as she carved out distance between them until the coffee table pressed against her calves.

Her breaths came in uneven, shallow gasps, as she glared at him with a fury that barely hid the tremble in her lips.

"That was—" Her voice cracked.

She pressed trembling fingers to her lips, then jerked them away as if burned.

"That was nothing."

Alaric tilted his head, still seated, completely at ease.

That infuriating smirk played at the corner of his mouth.

"Nothing?"

"D-Don't you dare think something foolish, this was just a mistake."

The words came out sharp, desperate.

"I'm drunk. You can see I'm drunk. It meant nothing."

Alaric only tilted his head, the faintest curl of a smirk tugging at his mouth.

His silence, his calm amusement, stung worse than mockery.

He opened his mouth, no doubt to deliver one of his infuriating jabs.

"Don't."

But she cut him off sharply, voice cracking between venom and self-defense.

Her hands clenched into fists.

"Don't you dare... You… you dared take advantage of a woman in her state? What are you, some vulture feeding on weakness?"

Her chest rose and fell, words bitten off like daggers.

"Pathetic."

Her hands clenched into fists at her sides before she spun on her heel.

Without another glance, she stormed toward the door, skirts swishing in her wake.

She stepped out, door slammed behind her hard enough to rattle the paintings. Her footsteps echoed down the hall, fast, uneven, almost running.

Alaric remained by the fireplace, listening until the sound faded completely.

Then he picked up her abandoned wine glass, still bearing the imprint of her lips on the rim.

The fire crackled, casting his shadow long and dark across the wall.

[Ding!]

[Main quest: Subjugate Selene Glimor (Completed)]

[Rewards: +1500 DP | +500EXP | +10 in all Stats.]

[Ding!]

[Congratulations for leveling up host!]

[Rewards: +5 stat points to each attribute | +12 Free stat points.]

Alaric sighed, leaning back against the sofa.

He put the glass near his lips, taking a sip of the wine.

"Status."

He muttered.

A transculant cyan window appeared before him, displaying different texts.

[STATUS WINDOW]

Name: Brandon (Past Life: Alaric Noir)

Race: Human

Age: 19

Title: Slave, Model Servant, (The Fallen King)

Essence Path: The Path of #$#&##@##

Sub-Path: Flame Essence

Rank: D-

EXP: 2950 / 3900 — 800/5400

Stats:

STR: 65 — 80

AGI: 79 — 94

END: 66 — 81

WIL: 41 — 56

CHA: 49 — 64

INT: 60 (??) — 75 (??)

Free stats points: 0 — 37

Domination Points: 750 — 3100

{A/N: 50 from Daily quests, 1500 from the main quest, rest from farming from the banquet}

Main Quest: Subjugate Selene Glimor (Completed)

System Level: 2 (Requires 3000 Domination Points to Upgrade)

Skill Tree:

-Intermediate Fire spell (F)

-Fireball

-Flame Arrow

-Burst Step: A short, explosive dash that condenses user's Essence into a single heartbeat's moment. It is perfect for closing distance or evading at the last possible instant, but excessive use may cause muscle strain and energy depletion.

-Scorchblade Arts (S):

*First Form- Flame Blade.

*Second Form- Flame Slash: Infuses user's weapon or bare hand with flame essence, creating a burning arc of energy when attacking. It can cut through most standard materials and leaves lingering burn damage, requiring weapon or unarmed combat proficiency for use.

Shop: Basic Tier Items

Obedience Meter: Target Not Found!

Loyalty Meter: Target not found!

Harem Tracker: 0

DP Exchange: Available

??? (Locked – Requires System Level 3)

[Ding!]

[Bonus Reward for Completing First Main Quest: Subjugate Selene Glimor]

[You have obtained the skill: Dominion's Gaze]

[Description:]

The eyes of one who has held absolute authority cannot be forgotten.

When host maintain direct eye contact with a target, they experience mounting psychological pressure. Their pride erodes, confidence wavers, and primal instincts hit, submission or flight.

[Passive Effect: Your gaze carries inherent weight. Others find it difficult to maintain eye contact, often looking away without understanding why.]

[Active Effect: By channeling Essence into your eyes and focusing on a single target, you amplify the pressure exponentially. Weak-willed individuals may kneel reflexively. Those of equal strength feel discomfort. The truly powerful merely sense something dangerous behind your eyes.]