Chapter 87: Can’t help it

He started at her neck, trailing kisses up to her ear, the bridge of her nose, and her flushed cheek.

The cotton fabric of her nightgown was rumpled inside his broad palm as he flipped over. The morning air grew thick with a crisp blend of lazy warmth and pure hormones—his Sentinel pheromones, reminiscent of bitter orange, oakmoss, and subtle woods, carried a subtle touch of bitterness that he swept into her mouth with the tip of his tongue.

Bunny wasn’t a fan of morning kisses. Sentinels stuck to a remarkably bland diet, meaning his mouth was usually completely neutral, but she preferred heavy, savory flavors—it felt strange to her.

Still, Liam’s lips were soft and plump; perhaps owing to his mixed heritage, those full lips felt incredibly lush against hers.

He still needed some practice kissing—his technique was raw and unpolished. Yet the second he tasted her sweet fragrance, he lost all composure.

Overcome with excitement, Liam nuzzled and nipped at her lips. Barely satisfied with simple closeness, he quickly tried to part her teeth, eager to explore deeper, forbidden territory.

Intense, hungry, and relentless... His youth carried a wild, borderline aggressive streak.

Bunny felt her lips sting from the pressure and tugged at his hair to register her complaint. He obediently toned it down a notch, though he could hardly be called gentle.

Lacking any technique, he relied purely on primal instinct to take what he craved.

He was just like a month-old puppy encountering his favorite chew toy—plunging in with clumsy bites simply because he didn’t know any other way to show his affection.

As their breaths melded together in a dizzying exchange, a flicker of clarity cut through Bunny’s breathlessness. Looking down, she realized her nightgown had already been pushed all the way up past her thighs—and was still creeping higher.

Bunny slapped his wandering hand away. Undeterred, he kept pestering her with relentless persuasion.

"What do you think you’re doing? Did you have another one of your smutty dreams and want to reenact it with me again?"

Liam poked his head out from under the comforter, resting his weight above her. Looking down with a ridiculously handsome, innocent expression, he pleaded softly. "I can’t help it. I just want you."

With his sweet, fragrant partner lying right beside him, he would have to be stone-cold numb not to react to her.

He ran the tip of his tongue lightly over the corner of his lips, a playful, mischievous glint in his eyes. "Bunny, I promise it’ll feel amazing."

His expression was a mix of cocky charm and mischievous defiance. The cluster of edgy piercings in his ear gleamed coldly under the morning light creeping through the window gap, while the fanged tattoo across his right chest shimmered rhythmically with excitement.

Practice makes perfect. And he desperately needed a chance to practice.

Bunny’s face instantly flushed crimson. Snatching her nightgown back down, she prepared to kick this rebellious brat right off the bed.

"What are you going wild for first thing in the morning?!"

Instead, he caught her by the ankle and yanked her straight into his arms. If she wouldn’t let him taste one spot, he’d just move on to another.

Moments later, Bunny’s furious scream echoed through the cozy pink room:

"Do you want me to scold you like a naughty dog?!"

Only after he had thoroughly covered her in lazy kisses and affection from head to toe did Liam contentedly scoop her up to head for the shower.

***

Tower 3 Shooting Range

Inside the massive domed facility, a rapid sequence of gunshots echoed straight up toward the vaulted ceiling.

San was holding a heavily customized laser rifle, firing smoothly at high-speed moving targets in the distance.

Arden, Brandon, Rain, and Astin stood in small groups behind him, watching the session unfold.

This upgraded laser rifle boasted significantly improved accuracy and armor penetration over its baseline model, along with a modular design that could accommodate different magazine types to boost capacity.

San had a real passion for modifying all kinds of weaponry—an area where his talent truly shone.

As the round concluded, the automated evaluation system chimed across the range:

"Accuracy rate 98%, miss rate 0%, rating grade SSS, evaluation: Superior..."

Brandon clapped him on the shoulder. "Damn, impressive stuff! Let me give that rifle a spin."

San slid off his tactical headset. In an enclosed indoor environment, high-decibel gunshots were nothing short of pure auditory torture for a Sentinel.

He tossed the rifle over to Brandon, walked back to the observation lounge, and grabbed a soda from Arden’s hands.

Arden casually mentioned, "Hey, when you get a second, mind tuning my sniper rifle? I keep feeling like there’s a tiny drift in the trajectory."

San downed the soda in one go, glancing over at Astin, who sat beside Arden with a completely stoic expression.

"Why ask me when the team’s top sniper is sitting right there? I wouldn’t want to show off in front of an expert."

Everyone knew Astin was the sharpest marksman in the unit, fully capable of taking down heavily guarded prime aberrations from extreme distances in a single shot.

Astin was far from foolish and caught the sarcastic bite in his tone immediately.

"What, so you’re finally admitting your own skills are total trash?"

San’s expression darkened on the spot. "Give you an inch and you take a mile, huh? Was your dad’s mouth this foul when he crawled into another man’s bed too?"

San had always believed his mother abandoned him and his father because of Astin’s father—that Astin was the child of a home-wrecker who had shattered his once happy family.

Because of that, he harbored a deep, burning hatred for Astin.

Astin’s biggest red line was anyone disrespecting his father. He let out a cold, sharp laugh, striking back with equal venom:

"If your dad was such a great puppy, how come he couldn’t even keep hold of a Guide’s heart?"

With neither willing to yield an inch, a violent brawl was about to ignite right on the spot.

Arden found himself trapped in the middle, frantically trying to play peacemaker. "Hey, stop it, stop it! We’re all on the same team here, keep the peace..."

But the hot-headed duo—one red-haired, one green-haired—were far too consumed by rage to hear a word he said. Just as Arden reached out to pull San back, a wild fist slammed directly into his eye.

Wincing in pain, Arden turned around to urge Astin to calm down, only for a hard swing from the green-haired Sentinel to crack against his jaw.

After spending minutes trying to break up the fight, Arden was the only one taking all the damage.

Unable to watch the mess any longer, Rain stepped in and yanked Arden out of the fray. "Why bother interfering with those two? They’re not going to kill each other anyway."

Just then, every Sentinel’s terminal chimed with an urgent meeting ping dispatched directly from Xander.