CHAPTER 216: SO CUTE

Chapter 216

Daphne

I can’t believe she did that.

The audacity—leaning in, stealing that fleeting kiss, then bolting as if I’d been the one to cross a line. My lips are still tingling, my head still spinning, but my body is already moving after her, quick strides cutting across the marble floor.

How dare she run away.

"Daphne Nyxclaw."

The sound of my name halts me mid-step, low and sharp, like a whip.

Standing in front of me, blocking my path, is Felix—the male lead himself. His expression is thunderous, fury radiating off him like heat from a forge.

Of course. Of course he would choose now to show up.

I shift, intent on stepping around him, but he moves again, blocking me.

I grind my teeth.

I have no patience for this. I have more important things to do—more important people to follow.

And by people, I mean my sweet bunny.

"I don’t have time for this," I say, my tone flat as winter steel.

"Are you the one that’s been putting ideas in Poppy’s head?" Felix spits, his golden eyes blazing.

I blink at him, then slowly fold my arms. "Now why would I do that?"

"You! Since you’ve been—"

"Yeah, bye." I cut him off without ceremony. Not going to waste my oxygen listening to this tantrum.

I try to walk past him, but his hand clamps down on my arm.

For a split second, instinct screams at me to snap his wrist in three places. I hesitate—old habits of restraint still whispering in the back of my head. But then I remember.

Wait.

Wait.

I can.

No stupid "don’t touch the male leads" restrictions anymore. As long as I don’t kill him, I’m free.

So I turn, snatch my arm away, and grab him instead. My hand closes around his neck, and before he can blink, I’ve lifted him clean off the ground.

It’s almost funny—this towering, broad-shouldered lion prince kicking his legs like a cornered kitten while I hold him up with one hand.

God, I think I love being a panther.

This is the first time, I’ve been like physically stronger than a man, without having to put in work in the gym or use martial arts just pure strength. I may have gotten too excited when I first dropped into this world....hence the rumors.

His claws flare, scraping at my wrist, but mine burst out too—curved black and gleaming right against the skin of his throat.

"I wouldn’t do that, if I were you," I purr, my voice velvet and edged with knives. Then I toss him. Effortless. He hits the ground with a graceless thud.

Not even a bead of sweat.

I prowl toward him where he’s sprawled in the dirt, my shadow stretching over his stunned face.

"Little lion prince," I murmur, crouching down just close enough for him to see the smirk curling my lips. "You seem to have forgotten something after clawing your way to the top of the food chain."

I bare my fangs, sharp and gleaming.

"There’s always something bigger. Always something scarier. And right now?" I lean in until my claws drag a shallow line against his jaw.

"That’s me."

He groans and tries to sit up. Pathetic.

"So don’t piss me off," I tell him, brushing invisible dust off my suit jacket.

"I can’t kill you because you’re a precious little lion, but I can hurt you. And no one—no one—would do a damn thing about it."

I smooth my cuffs, snap them into place, and look down at him like the world’s rudest insect. "You think I’ve got time to meddle in your soap opera with that little bunny? Please. Why would I waste energy on you? I actually have a life."

I step closer, looming just enough for him to feel it. "So here’s your free advice, princeling: next time, think twice before putting your hands on me. Because the only reason you’re breathing right now—" I bare a smile, all teeth, "—is because I’m in a good mood."

I step into the Marquis’ guest room, closing the door behind me with a soft click.

She’s here. I can feel it.

But where?

I take my time, savoring the hunt. The velvet curtains whisper as I pull them aside. Nothing. I crouch to peer beneath the massive bedframe—empty. The bathroom glitters with marble and steam, but no trembling little shadow. The closet doors creak open to reveal silk gowns and dustless shoes. No sign of her.

Still... she’s here. I know it.

My pulse skips, sharp with amusement. This is exciting.

"Bunny..." I draw out the word like a lure, taking deliberate, measured steps across the room. My ears sharpen, catching the faintest sounds—the rustle of breath, the scrape of something shifting where it shouldn’t.

I grin.

"Where are you hiding...?"

I tilt my head, listening. A soft thump. A muffled rustle.

Ah.

"There you are..."

Something white darts from behind the curtains—the tiniest bundle of fur bolting across the polished floor.

My bunny.

She scrambles beneath a chair, then streaks across to the bed. Quick little thing, ears flattened, heart no doubt racing like a drum.

"Run faster," I purr, circling, cornering her again and again.

She zigzags toward the dresser, but I’m quicker. I lunge, hand swooping down, and my fingers close around her warm, trembling body. She squirms, hind legs kicking uselessly against my palm.

Her tiny body squirms in my arms, but she’s no match for me.

I squeeze her closer, laughing under my breath. She’s so soft—her fur tickles my cheek as I rub my face against her, inhaling her warmth.

"My sweet little Bunny," I whisper, utterly delighted.

She kicks with her little hind legs, ears flattening in protest. The angrier she gets, the more adorable she looks. Every twitch, every wiggle, just makes me grin wider.

Her nose wiggles furiously, and she lets out a sharp squeak.

I chuckle, cradling her against my chest like a prized treasure.

"This is my first time seeing you like this. Oh gods, you’re even cuter than I imagined. How am I supposed to ever let you go now?"