A week had passed since Yelena became mine.
At first, I thought the bond would settle into something manageable—companionship, loyalty, trust. But Yelena didn't settle. She grew more intense. More overwhelming.
Everywhere I went, she was there. When I woke up, she was curled at my side, her hair spread across the pillow, her breath warm on my chest. When I ate, she sat in my lap rather than across from me, insisting food tasted better that way. When I tried to take missions alone, she clung to my arm, ears pinned back, tail drooping, begging not to be left behind.
And if I ever strayed too far, the bond between us flared to life. A pressure in my chest, a whisper in the back of my mind—her voice trembling with panic: "Master? Where are you? Don't leave me… please don't leave me." Even when I was in the next room, she flooded me with emotions through the link—loneliness, fear, longing—until I returned.
Separation to her wasn't an inconvenience. It was agony.
She wasn't just near me. She was glued to me.
And yet, I couldn't bring myself to push her away.
Because in her eyes, none of it was desperation. It was love. Pure, unfiltered, terrifying love.
That evening, after we returned from a small quest, I found myself patching her wounds again. She sat obediently on the chair, her long legs crossed, her tail thumping lightly against the floor as I wrapped a bandage around her arm.
"There," I said, tying it off. "All done."
Her gaze never left me. Golden, sharp, unwavering. It was unnerving and tender at the same time, like she was memorizing my face every second we were together.
When I finished, I leaned back with a sigh. "There. You're patched up."
Her lips curved into a soft smile. "Thank you… Master."
I froze. "Master?"
Her ears perked. "Yes. You tamed me. You healed me. You named me. You're my everything now. Of course you're my master."
The word carried weight—an intimacy that pulled heat into my chest.
Before I could respond, she tilted her head, tail wagging faster. "Do you not like it? Should I call you something else?"
"…It's not that." I rubbed my neck. "It's just… surprising."
Her smile widened. "Then Master it is."
Almost without thinking, I reached out, my hand resting atop her damp silver hair. I stroked her head gently, my fingers brushing against the softness of her ears.
Her reaction was immediate.
Her tail thumped hard against the chair leg, rattling it. Her breath hitched, coming out in short, shaky pants. And then, a sound slipped out—a moan, low and trembling, filled with heat.
I froze. My hand jerked back as if I'd touched fire. "Y-Yelena!"
She leaned forward, eyes half-lidded, her lips parted. "Why did you stop?"
"You… you were making sounds!" My face burned as I scrambled for words. "Go wash up or something before you—before you do that again."
Instead of looking embarrassed, she only smiled slyly, rising from her chair with a predator's grace.
"Then come with me."
The bathhouse was small, meant for one person at a time, but Yelena didn't care. She dragged me in by the wrist, her claws gentle but firm, her strength impossible to resist.
Steam filled the room quickly, curling across our bare skin as we stripped down. My face flushed red as I slid into the hot water. Yelena slid in right after, pressing herself against me so there was no space between our bodies.
Her breasts, heavy and full, pressed against my chest. Her thighs brushed against mine under the water, soft and thick. Her silver hair clung damply to her shoulders, dripping down onto my skin.
I swallowed hard. "Y-Yelena, this is—"
"Perfect," she whispered, cutting me off. Her golden eyes shimmered in the steam, locked onto me with a fire that made my chest tighten. She wrapped her arms around me, resting her head against my shoulder. "I can feel your heartbeat. It calms me. It tells me you're here."
The bond pulsed faintly between us, her emotions flooding into me—relief, warmth, a crushing devotion so thick it nearly suffocated me.
I tried to pull back, but she clung tighter, her breasts flattening against me, her breath hot against my neck. That's when I felt it—my body betraying me.
My arousal stirred, pressing against her thigh beneath the water.
My face went crimson. "I—I'm sorry! I didn't—"
But she only pressed closer, her lips curving into a tender smile. "Don't apologize. I don't mind."
Her voice trembled with devotion. "I just want to please you, Master. To make you happy. To keep you smiling. That's all I want. Do you… like my body?"
I swallowed, unable to deny it. "…Yes. You're beautiful."
Her tail swished under the water, creating small ripples. She leaned up, her lips brushing my ear. "Then touch me. Please."
My hands shook as I raised them, hovering over her chest. She guided them the rest of the way, pressing my palms against her breasts.
The sensation was overwhelming.
Her chest was enormous, soft and supple, filling my hands completely. My fingers sank into her flesh as I squeezed, and she moaned again, arching her back, pressing into me. Her breasts were so heavy, so warm, each movement of my hands sending waves of sensation through her body.
I groped cautiously at first, but her whimpers urged me on. She clung tighter, her moans growing louder, her body trembling against mine.
"More," she begged, her voice husky.
My hands trailed lower, and before I could stop myself, she grabbed them, dragging them down her sides until they cupped her backside.
Her ass was thick, plump, and perfectly round. My fingers dug into her soft flesh, squeezing, lifting, feeling the weight of her body in my palms. Her thighs pressed against me, her tail flicking wildly as if to spur me on.
She panted, her breath shaky, her voice desperate. "See? You can't push me away. You can't leave me. I won't let you. I'll never leave your side, Master."
Her words clung to me, heavy and unshakable. Not a promise. Not a plea.
A vow.
And in that steam-filled bath, with her body pressed tight against mine and her devotion burning through every touch, I realized the truth.
Yelena wasn't just loyal.
She was obsessed.