{Chapter: 214: Night Whispers and Velvet Shadows}
"Mmm, what strength..." she purred, a subtle tremble in her voice as she twisted in his lap, brushing her firm hips teasingly against him. "I've never seen a demigod do something like that so… effortlessly."
Her tone was both reverent and daring, as though challenging him to push further.
Dex's smile deepened, amused. "I'm no demigod," he replied, his voice a slow rumble. "Just a legendary-level, nothing more."
"Oh? Just legendary?" she teased, leaning in so her breath tickled his ear, her lips brushing close but never quite touching. "Then remind me never to offend a 'mere' legendary. If you were any stronger, you'd break the bed… and the entire hotel with it."
She gave a low, sultry laugh that was all too practiced—flirty, daring, dangerous. There was a heat behind it, and a wicked gleam in her eye that spoke of long years of seduction and shadowy experience.
This was Valeera—certainly a woman like her: whip-smart, seductive, lethal. She carried herself with the kind of grace only elves possessed, each movement calculated, fluid, and dripping in subtle tension. Her long golden hair fell in cascading waves down her back, and her red-and-black leather bodice left little to the imagination.
She was a creature of shadow and desire—her honeyed voice capable of cutting as deep as her daggers.
Dex could feel her shifting in his lap again, deliberately pressing the swell of her rear against his thigh, her hand idly tracing the ridges of his armored chest with playful fingers.
"And this dinner party…" she said in a whisper, trailing kisses along his jawline, "…will I need to behave? Or will you let me be your sinful little shadow?"
Dex exhaled slowly, the corners of his mouth twitching. "You can be whatever you want—so long as you don't get bored and start assassinating the guests."
"No promises," she whispered with a smile. "But I'll try to behave. For you."
Her expression was coy, but there was real hunger there. Beneath her teasing nature and lewd jokes was a subtle desire—curiosity, perhaps. Or maybe a hope that this monster of a man might one day see her as more than an accessory draped across his lap.
Dex didn't respond to that part. He let it hang in the air, unsaid.
Because while her affection amused him, and her body certainly pleased him, the matters of the heart were far more dangerous than any battlefield.
Still, she leaned her head on his shoulder, content for now. And for the moment, all was well.
---
At Night.
The restaurant shimmered like a living gem nestled in the heart of the elven city, a marvel grown entirely through natural magic. From the gently arching roof formed by intertwined flowering branches, to the tables shaped from broad, living leaves—every element here was alive, breathing, and pulsing with a subtle flow of mana. Even the luminescent orbs overhead, casting soft moonlight hues, floated gently among the vines like glowing pollen, giving the entire establishment a dreamlike ambiance.
Unlike the cold precision of industrial manufacturing, this was organic artistry—born not from the clank of hammer and anvil but from whispered spells and centuries of refined aesthetics. It carried a serenity only the elves could craft: beauty that was not forced, but grown.
Dex glanced around with mild interest, then leaned back against the vine-cushioned seat. A slender stem bent forward as if in reverence, presenting him a delicate fruit. It was shaped like a curled phoenix feather, gleaming faintly with an inner light. He took a bite and chewed slowly.
The flavor exploded in his mouth—syrupy and floral, with a slightly spicy undertone. Even with his abyssal tongue accustomed to sulfur and iron, the taste was… pleasant. Surprisingly so.
For a demon who could consume stones, dirt, and even molten metal if necessary, it was a welcome reprieve. Still, he mused with a smirk, eating dirt was something only done in the Abyss when everything else had been devoured—usually by those hideous glutton-fiends who gorged themselves on everything, down to the soil and sky. Even among demons, they were despised for their gluten.
Click. Click.
The soft, rhythmic taps of heels announced her return. Valeera.
The female elf sat down gracefully opposite him, her presence impossible to ignore. Her gown—if it could be called that—was woven from magical flora that clung to her body like ivy seeking warmth. Dyed in shimmering forest green and kissed by starlight threads, it hugged her figure as if painted on. The fabric shifted with her movements, teasing glimpses of smooth thighs, the sharp dip of her waist, and the generous swell of her chest—just enough to leave a man wondering where bare skin ended and silk began.
Intricate gold embroidery traced arcane runes across her bodice, drawing the eye to places best left to the imagination. Her high heels, carved from enchanted wood and embedded with clear crystals, gave her every step a sensual rhythm, and her long blonde hair was braided with feathers that sparkled like precious gems.
She was beauty with danger woven in—graceful as a dancer, but with a predator's poise. That teasing smile, that spark in her crimson eyes… she wasn't just playing innocent.
She was playing him.
And he knew it.
She leaned forward, her ample cleavage pressing subtly against the gown's neckline, and offered him a piece of glazed fruit with her slender fingers. Her nails were painted the color of wine, and her expression was pure mischief. "Is it delicious?" she asked, her voice like sweet spring water laced with something darker.
Dex chuckled, biting into the offered fruit without breaking eye contact. "It's really good," he said casually. Then added, "But still not as sweet as you."
Her emerald eyes sparkled, lips parting in a soft, amused smirk. "Careful," she said, swirling the glowing blue wine in her glass. "A tongue like that will get you in trouble. Or maybe…" she tilted her head, letting her earring dangle and catch the light, "you're the type who enjoys that."
Dex only shrugged, letting the silence stretch as he chewed another bite. There was something oddly comforting about the way she spoke—flirty, sharp, and layered with half-threats. But none of it was malicious. It was just who she was.
Valeera lifted her glass again, this time to sip. Her tongue darted out briefly, moistening her lower lip, and she studied him over the rim. "Do you plan to stay in this city for long?"
The question came gently, almost offhandedly, but Dex noticed the way her fingers clenched slightly around her glass.
She didn't know why she asked. She hadn't meant to.
But something about him lingered on her skin—like a warmth she didn't want to lose just yet. It wasn't love—Valeera wasn't foolish—but she knew what it felt like when desire crossed over into wanting.
He wasn't just powerful. He was mysterious. Handsome in a raw, dangerous way. And worse, he didn't chase. That aloof detachment only made her lean in closer, craving reactions he refused to give.
"A month, maybe more," Dex replied evenly. "I have… things to study. A few experiments to complete."
The irony was lost on her. If she had known those "experiments" involved spreading engineered plagues across her world, she might have gagged on her wine.
Still, Valeera nodded, hiding her disappointment well behind that same velvet smile. She set her glass down, tapping her fingernail thoughtfully against it.
"By the way," she murmured, locking eyes with him, "have you always been so heartless? Sometimes… I feel like nothing touches you."
Her voice lowered as she leaned in slightly, the candlelight flickering in her eyes. "Like there's something hollow behind that calm."
Dex paused, caught off-guard by her question—not because it pierced him, but because it brushed against something he hadn't thought about in a long time.
"My personality…" he murmured. "It's always been like this, I think."
Valeera raised one brow, unconvinced.
She reached across the table, placing her hand gently over his. Her fingertips traced idle circles along the back of his palm—playful, but intimate.
"You know," she whispered, "I've danced with assassins, negotiated with nobles, and played games with monsters wearing human skin. But you?" Her smile grew sharper. "You're different."
He didn't flinch. He never did.
But he also didn't pull away.
That intrigued her more than she'd admit.
The soft hum of magical flora surrounded them, the glowing lights dimming slightly as if the world itself leaned in to listen. Their fingers remained entwined on the table. No words passed for a moment.
"As for not caring about anything," Dex said, his voice low and matter-of-fact, "that's a bit of an exaggeration. I'd say I simply care about fewer things. Or perhaps... I just care too deeply about too few. You could call it selfishness. A refined kind."
Valeera tilted her head, her golden-blonde hair cascading like molten sunlight over one bare shoulder, the faint glimmer of arcane threads running through her silky locks. Her eyes, a mesmerizing green that shimmered like emerald flames, studied him with both amusement and subtle hunger. A smile curled across her lips—lips painted the color of poisoned rose petals.
"Too selfish?" she repeated with a musical laugh, her voice like warm honey laced with danger. "Now that's rare. Most men can't bear to admit something so... unflattering. But you? You embrace it."
She leaned forward, elbows resting gracefully on the vine-like arms of her living chair. The motion pressed her already tight bodice tighter against her voluptuous form, her cleavage rising like a challenge between them, the delicate arcane runes embroidered into her nature grown gown pulsing with faint light. Her scent—wild jasmine mixed with enchanted spice—drifted across the space between them.
"Or maybe," she added with a teasing smile, "you're the kind of man who only wastes affection on what he deems worthy..."
Dex shrugged in response, an amused smirk tugging at his lips.
He wasn't going to deny it. As an honest demon, honesty was part of his nature—at least when the mood suited him. He rarely bothered with lies. Why waste time weaving falsehoods when the truth alone often terrified people?
Even if someone had marched up to him and demanded, "Are you an intruder from the Abyss?"—he'd likely have replied with an unbothered, "Yes," just to watch them panic. Unfortunately for them, no one ever had the nerve to ask.
The atmosphere between them was charged, electric. Between laughter and lingering glances, they shared drinks, thoughts, and subtle touches beneath the table. Her thigh brushed his. Once. Then again. Each time lingering longer. Her heel slid up the inside of his leg beneath the enchanted wooden table, slow and deliberate, like a huntress drawing her dagger just before the kill.
By the time they left the restaurant, walking side by side beneath a sky veiled in silver moonlight, their steps were no longer careful, nor their intentions hidden.
They returned to the estate Dex had purchased without saying much. Words were no longer needed. The moment the door closed behind them, she pressed her soft lips to his, her fingers already pulling at the enchanted clasps of her scandalously expensive dress—knowing full well it wouldn't survive the night.