Unlike that clumsy “game” she once orchestrated at the Orange Blossom Pavilion, this time, Tulia was the one on the receiving end.
Sophia gave her no chance to resist. While keeping Tulia under control, she gently teased out the deepest longings in Tulia’s heart.
Ever since Lisbeth was born, ever since she truly became a “widow,” this body of hers—transformed, far more sensitive than an ordinary human’s—had lain dormant for far, far too long.
Now, that forcibly suppressed yearning was slowly awakened beneath Sophia’s calloused, almost magical fingertips.
Sophia’s hands were long and strong, like a virtuoso who understood music better than anyone.
Ten fingers danced across her body; every press, every squeeze, landed unerringly on those points that could make her tremble, make her lose all control.
It was less a caress than a silent interrogation—a primal, effective exchange that belonged to them alone.
Her body’s betrayal came even faster than she’d imagined.
Tulia could clearly sense something surging from below, rushing up into her chest.
She didn’t want to admit it, but her body, shamed by this rough treatment, was indeed reacting.
Countless nights spent imprisoned came to mind. It was these very hands that once brought her both excruciating pain and unparalleled pleasure.
Unknowingly, Tulia had long since accepted Sophia’s presence.
Otherwise, why had she spent more than forty years with no one else by her side?
This twisted longing, the desire she didn’t dare to admit, made her start resisting in vain even as her body slowly gave in.
“Don’t… Don’t touch me…” Her voice was weak and tinged with a sob, sounding more like an aroused whisper than true rejection.
She pressed her hand against Sophia’s shoulder, trying to push her away, but to Sophia, her strength was as soft as a plea.
Sophia felt the changes in her body, and the storm in her eyes only grew fiercer.
Her hand slid downward, finally resting on Tulia’s shapely, leather-clad bottom.
Without warning, Sophia gripped her tightly, lifting Tulia off the ground while her five fingers pinched her as if to punish her.
“Mmm—!”
Already feverish and overly sensitive, Tulia was startled by the sudden jolt, and an uncontrollable, shameful scream burst from her throat.
Suddenly deprived of support,
Her legs instinctively wrapped around Sophia’s waist, searching for something to hold on to.
This movement only fanned the storm that was already raging in Sophia’s heart.
She no longer bothered to be careful, no longer held back. Her fingers became rough and impatient, gripping Tulia’s skin as if to press right through her.
“Ah—!”
Pleasure turned into pain. Tulia cried out from the sting, her brows tightly knitted.
Sophia’s roughness was hurting her now. No longer gentle teasing—only raw venting.
She refused to put up with it any longer and tried to resist.
“You’re hurting me! Sophia! Let go!”
But the out-of-control Sophia paid her no heed, still following her own will.
“Pa—!”
A crisp, loud slap echoed through the silent entrance hall.
Tulia, using every ounce of her strength, slapped Sophia hard across the face.
Sophia’s head snapped to the side, and she unconsciously loosened her grip.
Just like that, Tulia fell from midair without any preparation, landing heavily on the cold, hard floor.
Luckily, she was a thick-skinned Vampire. Otherwise, her tailbone might not have survived that fall.
“Ow—!”
A sharp pain shot from her tailbone, making her cry out uncontrollably.
She awkwardly rolled over, sprawled on the ground, sticking her bottom up, rubbing her bruised spot with both hands, whining nonstop as if that could somehow make it hurt less.
“My butt! It’s going to break into pieces!”
Seeing Tulia’s ridiculous yet pitiful state, the burning pain and anger Sophia felt from being slapped instantly vanished, replaced by worry and helpless confusion.
She stepped forward by instinct, wanting to check on her.
“Don’t come any closer!”
Tulia, sprawled on the ground, snapped back like a cat whose tail had been stepped on, whipping her head around and shouting at Sophia.
“Don’t touch me!”
“Eh?”
Sophia’s outstretched hand froze in midair.
The domineering image she’d shown just moments ago was completely gone.
In its place was a clumsy fool, at a loss for what to do after hitting someone and then watching her lover fall to the ground.
Bracing herself against the wall, Tulia struggled to get up from the floor.
The stabbing pain in her tailbone made her hiss, but it also snapped her out of her previous daze.
Looking at the flustered Sophia before her, what little fear remained in her eyes was quickly overwhelmed by a surge of anger and grievance.
A bluish glow appeared in her open palm as a complicated and dangerous Magic Inscription swiftly took shape. The moisture in the air gathered in her hand, condensing into a razor-sharp Ice Spike, ready to strike.
“All these years, and you still won’t leave me alone!”
Her voice trembled with fury, full of accusation and reproach.
“You were the one who let me go back then, and now you show up again! What do you want from me this time?!”
“What am I to you in your eyes?!”
“When you need me, you lock me up and treat me like a plaything! When you’re done, you toss me aside like trash and leave me to fend for myself! Sophia Von Nolstein, what am I to you?!”
It was more than anger; it was half a century’s worth of unanswered resentment and confusion.
But perhaps, Tulia herself had forgotten.
Back then, she had been the one to beg Sophia, in tears, to let her go—to give her freedom.
Yet, in the forty years that followed, on countless sleepless nights, she found herself unable to stop thinking of the one who had brought her endless suffering and, at times, fleeting warmth.
“I…”
Confronted with Tulia’s tearful accusations, Sophia’s usual dominance vanished. The mark from the slap still clear on her cheek, the look in her eyes, once so controlling, was now replaced by awkward panic.
She looked like a husband who had done something wrong and had no idea how to ask his wife for forgiveness.
“Or… Is it still about Lilian?!” Tulia, seeing her silence, felt her anger blaze higher. “Do you still see me as your dead White Moonlight?! Do you want to lock me away in that damned Dungeon, never to see the light again?!”
But as she spoke, Tulia’s angry voice grew increasingly shaky.
Her words quivered uncontrollably, the facade of strength she had constructed breaking apart, revealing the vulnerability beneath.
Tears, no longer just welling up, began to fall uncontrollably from her eyes.
“Tulia… I…”
Faced with this barrage of questions, Sophia’s mind was in chaos—she didn’t even know where to begin.
Her body, acting on instinct alone, yearned to move closer to the woman who was crying before her.
“Don’t come any closer!”
The Ice Spike in Tulia’s hand glowed with deadly light, its sharp tip aimed straight at Sophia’s heart.