Page 47 of Dark Elf Makes Five

"Oh gods," she whimpers, her body going limp in my arms.

My hips jerk forward one final time, burying myself to the hilt as I empty into her with a ragged groan. My seed paints her insides, marking her in the most primitive way possible—breeding her tight pussy until she's full of me.

We collapse back into the tub together, water sloshing over the sides in a final wave. She sags against my chest, boneless and spent, while I wrap my arms around her and hold her close. Our harsh breaths echo in the steam-filled room, mingling with the crackle of the fire.

For a long while, neither of us speaks. I trace the line of her spine with my fingertips, feeling the rapid flutter of her heartbeat against my palm.

This is where I'm meant to be.

25

KESSARA

Iwake wrapped in silk that feels like liquid moonlight against my skin, feather pillows cradling my head like clouds. A smile tugs at my lips before I'm fully conscious, warmth spreading through my chest like honey. This feels impossible—too soft, too luxurious, too perfect to be real.

The morning light streams through tall windows, casting everything in gold. I stretch languidly, muscles pleasantly sore in places that make me blush. The sheets smell like lavender and something distinctly masculine that makes my pulse quicken.

This has to be a dream.

I slip from the bed and wrap myself in a silk robe that hangs nearby, the fabric whispering against my skin. The wardrobe stands open, revealing an array of dresses that make my breath catch. Simple but exquisite—deep blues and forest greens, soft grays and rich burgundies. Nothing ostentatious, but the quality is unmistakable.

A folded piece of parchment hangs from the inside of the wardrobe door, my name written in Zerion's precise script. I unfold it with trembling fingers.

I favor you.

That's all. Three words in his careful handwriting, but they send butterflies careening through my stomach. A giggle escapes me—an actual giggle, like some silly maiden in a romance tale. I press my hand to my mouth, but the laughter bubbles up anyway.

I select a dress in deep emerald that brings out my eyes, the fabric flowing like water as I pull it over my head. It fits perfectly, hugging my curves without being scandalous. I twist my hair into a simple knot, securing it with pins I find on the vanity.

The woman in the mirror looks like someone I barely recognize. Clean, well-fed, clothed in silk instead of patched wool. Beautiful, even.

Downstairs, the dining hall buzzes with quiet conversation. Bran, Lysa, and Tobin sit at the long table, already working through plates piled high with eggs, fresh bread, and honey cakes. They look up as I enter, Lysa's face brightening.

"Kessa! Look how much food there is!" She gestures excitedly at her plate. "Mrs. Aldren said we could have seconds if we wanted."

"And thirds," Tobin adds through a mouthful of bread, crumbs dotting his chin.

Mrs. Aldren approaches with a steaming cup of tea, her expression warm but professionally neutral. "Good morning, Miss Kessara. I trust you slept well?"

Heat patches my cheeks. "Very well, thank you."

She sets the cup before me, along with a plate of food I didn't request. "Lord Morvath sends his regrets that he cannot join you for breakfast. Estate business requires his immediate attention this morning."

My stomach dips with disappointment, though I try not to let it show. "Of course. I understand."

"He did suggest you and the children might enjoy exploring the manor gardens today. The weather promises to be quite pleasant." Mrs. Aldren's tone remains carefully neutral, but there's something almost conspiratorial in her eyes.

Bran looks up from his eggs. "Can we see the stables? Master Ramin mentioned Lord Morvath keeps equus."

The children chorus their agreement, already planning their adventure. I sip my tea and watch them, marveling at how quickly they've adapted to this new life. No more counting coins for bread or rationing meals to last the week.

"Thank you," I tell Mrs. Aldren quietly. "For everything."

She nods, understanding passing between us. "Lord Morvath values those under his protection, Miss Kessara. It brings him satisfaction to see them flourishing."

The formal words carry deeper meaning, and I find myself smiling despite my disappointment at missing him this morning.

After the children finish their breakfast, they practically bounce from their chairs, already chattering about exploring the stables and gardens. I follow them toward the library, but something makes me pause in the corridor.