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The longer he stared, the more the rest of the world... the surrounding sound, the cold of the water, the fact that she was Kira’s mother and the Warchief of the entire tribe... faded into irrelevance.

There was only the body in front of him. Only the full, firm tits and the soft strong stomach and the powerful thighs and the slightly bushy, extremely fuckable pussy that seemed to be waiting for him to finally stop looking and do something about the hunger it had created.

Sol’s hands flexed uselessly at his sides under the water.

His cock was so hard that it couldn’t be any harder and it hurt like hell.

Veylara suddenly noticed the direction of his stare, but she did not react or cover herself.

If anything, she seemed faintly amused by the way his usual composure had slipped... by the open, hungry way his gaze kept dragging over her bare skin as if he had forgotten how to look at anything else.

A small discreet curve touched the corner of her mouth.

The deep blue of her eyes held a quiet spark of satisfaction, as though watching the Savior of the Veynar lose his carefully maintained control was its own private entertainment.

”You look as if you have never seen a woman remove her clothes before,” she said dryly. The cool night air brushed across her bare breasts as she spoke, tightening the dark red nipples even further. ”Or is the Warchief of the Veynar not allowed to wash the sweat of the day from her skin?”

Sol forced his voice back under control, though the tightness in his throat made the words come out rougher than he intended.

”It is not that. It is simply... sudden.”

”Sudden.”

She repeated the word as if testing the taste of it, rolling it across her tongue with mild disbelief. Then she shrugged... one elegant, unconcerned lift of her shoulders that made her full breasts sway softly under the moonlight... and gently stretched her body.

The movement seemed deliberately slow, incredibly alluring and devastating.

Her arms lifted above her head, spine arching just enough to push her chest forward and draw the soft, strong line of her stomach tight.

The full, pale weight of her tits rose with the stretch, dark nipples pointing toward the silver sky.

The subtle ridges of her abs flexed into clearer definition. Her hips shifted, thighs tightening, the slightly bushy dark thatch between her legs catching the light for a heartbeat longer as the motion briefly parted her stance.

Every line of her mature, powerful body seemed to lengthen and open under the moon, becoming even more alluring, even more deadly to already broken composure.

When she finally lowered her arms, she looked completely unbothered by the show she had just given him.

”We have marched together, killed together, and bled for the same tribe,” she continued, voice calm and even. ”Sharing a pond should not require a formal announcement.”

She glanced around the secluded basin, at the willow-like trees and the crystal water that still held the moon’s reflection, then back at him. ”And for your information... the pond you are sitting in right now is my private sanctuary. I specifically use it whenever I want to be alone and relax.”

Sol blinked once as he finally got the answer to the question he had earlier.

So that was why.

Despite being such a heavenly place... crystal water, soft moss, perfect moonlight, complete isolation... he had never once seen another soul come near it. No hunters stopping to wash. No couples slipping away from the settlement for privacy. No children playing at the edges.

The entire tribe simply avoided it, as if some unspoken rule kept the path clear.

Now he understood. This was not just a convenient secluded pond. It was Veylara’s. A place reserved for the Warchief alone, protected by respect, habit, and the quiet understanding that some ground belonged only to her.

And he was the one who had intruded here, but still she had walked into it, stripped without hesitation, and allowed him to remain.

The knowledge added another layer of weight to the already thick air between them.

Consciously or unconsciously, she waited only a heartbeat longer... long enough for his gaze to drag once more over the full, firm weight of her breasts, the subtle strength of her stomach, the powerful lines of her thighs, and the soft, slightly bushy, devastatingly inviting place between them... before she slowly stepped forward into the cold silver water.

The surface rose around her calves, then her thighs, the clear mountain spring slowly claiming the skin he had just been devouring with his eyes.

The cold made her breath catch once... a small, sharp sound that did more for Sol’s pulse than any moan could have... before she continued forward until the surface rose to cover her breasts.

Even then the wet and gleaming upper curves of them remained visible, the enticing cherry red nipples occasionally breaking the surface when she moved.

She stopped a few paces from him, close enough that the heat of her body and the cool of the water mixed in the small space between their bodies.

”You are staring again,” she observed.

The words were soft, almost conversational, but they landed with perfect accuracy.

Sol felt the heat rise in his neck. He coughed once and forcibly dragged his eyes away from the full, wet curves of her breasts, fixing them instead on the surface of the water as if the ripples there had suddenly become the most fascinating thing in the Great Orrath.

”Ahem.”

A low huff of amusement left Veylara.

She lifted a hand and pushed her dampening hair back from her face.

The simple motion lifted her breasts slightly in the water, the soft, heavy flesh rising and settling again with a wet, graceful sway.

Moonlight did its magic and caught the clear beads of water that clung to her collarbones and the pale upper slopes beneath them, turning each droplet into a tiny silver point of light.