Chapter 750: I Will Get Angry!

The hearth fire in the inner sanctum had burned down to a mound of soft, golden embers, casting a gentle, romantic glow across the white mammoth pelts scattered over the ironwood platform.

For a long, quiet stretch of time, neither of them moved. The room was thick with the scent of wild cedar, crushed night-blooming orchids, and the heavy, sweet musk of their shared passion.

Sol lay contentedly with his head buried right between Veylara’s full, soft breasts, listening to the deep, steady rhythm of her heart beating beneath her skin, simultaneously breathing in the intoxicating, warm scent of her skin.

Veylara’s mind slowly cleared as the lingering haze of her intense climax began to recede.

Having regained enough of her senses to think past the lingering, blissful paralysis in her limbs, she looked down at the dark head resting against her chest.

She reached down, her fingers lightly tapping his shoulder.

"Get up," she murmured, her raspy voice still laced with a soft, breathy exhaustion.

Sol let out a low, whiny groan, burying his face deeper into the soft, pillowy softness of her cleavage, rubbing his nose against her skin like an unbothered, stubborn beast refusing to leave its den.

Veylara blinked, a look of helpless disbelief crossing her face. She certainly hadn’t expected this terrifying reaper... a man who had slaughtered Layer 4 warlords and broken the sky... to act like a clingy, spoiled child on her lap.

Yet, as strange as it was, a subtle, unexpected warmth bloomed in her chest.

She had spent more than thirty winters in a harsh, unforgiving world where every man was either a warrior to command or an enemy to butcher; she had never experienced a man acting this shameless or affectionate with her.

And yet, deep down, she found that she didn’t dislike this clingy, unguarded side of him at all; in fact, she secretly adored it.

However, her practical mind quickly asserted control. She cleared her throat, trying to summon a more stern, authoritative cadence.

"Get up!"

Hearing the change in her tone, Sol finally and reluctantly lifted his head. He pushed himself up onto his elbows, sitting back on his knees atop the furs, and looked down at her with a curious, slightly pouting expression.

Veylara also used this chance to prop herself up against the pile of fur pillows, pulling the edge of a clean pelt over her bare lap to cover her lower body, though her soft breasts remained completely exposed in the warm air.

"You have been inside my lodge for a long time now," Veylara stated, her sapphire eyes meeting his crimson gaze with serious intent.

"It is deep into the night. You should leave now, before others begin to notice and grow suspicious."

Sol blinked, his brows furrowing in utter disappointment. "Just this? I thought you were going to tell me something serious," he muttered grumpily, instantly flopping back down onto her chest, wrapping his arms around her waist and rubbing his face back and forth against her soft, bare breasts.

Veylara’s breath hitched at his sudden return. She was left completely speechless at his childish persistence.

She raised her hands, trying to push against his broad shoulders to break his tight embrace. "I am serious, Sol! You really should go now!"

"But I don’t wanna," Sol grumbled, his voice muffled against her breasts, his grip on her waist tightening even further. "I want to stay right here with you."

Hearing his unabashed, clingy words, a helpless, deeply touched sensation washed over Veylara’s heart.

" Sol....you have stayed far too long," she reasoned softly, her fingers running through his thick dark hair gently, letting out a soft, resigned sigh. "If you stay until dawn, people will talk."

"So what?" Sol snorted, his cheek resting comfortably over her heart. "Let them talk. We aren’t afraid of a few loose tongues."

"We are not afraid, but..." Veylara paused, her tone softening into something hesitant, almost delicate... a rare occurrence for the sovereign of the Fifth Layer.

She exhaled a quiet breath and continued, "...you are already together with my daughter publicly. It would not be good for the tribe... or for her... if our relationship were made public right now."

Sol’s face stopped rubbing against her chest. He went still for a moment, listening to the steady, strong beat of her heart beneath his ear.

Seeing his movement pause, Veylara softened her tone, her hand resting against his cheek. "Normally, in our tribe, strength claims what it wishes, and it would not be a grand problem. But right now, it is a critical time of integration for the Veynar. We are absorbing five tributary clans, managing thousands of Coalition captives, and solidifying our rule over the entire basin.

If rumors spread that the Warchief and the Supreme Spear are indulging in private nights while the clan integrates, it will create unnecessary internal confusion and friction. It is better to be careful for a little while."

Sol let out a long, heavy exhale against her skin. He understood her logic completely; as a sovereign, her every move carried political weight, and as Kira’s mother, the situation required a delicate touch until the basin was fully stabilized.

"I understand," Sol said, his voice laced with helplessness as he gave her soft breast one last, unrepentant squeeze. "Just let me enjoy these for a bit longer, then."

Veylara’s lips twitched, fighting back a sudden laugh, though she quickly forced a stern, commanding expression onto her face.

"Get up right now," she warned in a mock-stern voice, "or I will actually get angry."

Hearing the fake sharpness in her voice... even though he knew she was just playing the stern Chief... Sol knew he had pushed his luck as far as it would go.

Reluctantly, he let go of her waist, sat up and looked at her exquisite face, which sat just a few inches from his own.

From this close, illuminated by the dying amber embers, she was breathtakingly gorgeous.

Her deep sapphire eyes gleamed with liquid light, her full lips were slightly bruised and swollen from his kisses, and her smooth, blemish-free skin flushed with a radiant, post-coital glow.

Her three-dimensional, sharp features carried both the majestic grace of a sovereign and the soft, vulnerable beauty of a woman.