NOVPUBThe scent of sweat lingered in the air of the dim underground chamber; shadows covered the floor by narrow skylights. A place that swallowed all additional noise, except for the slap of bare feet on stone.
Nikolai tightened the wraps around his fists.
Lunaria stood opposite him in a sleeveless black top, arms loose at her sides, her hair pulled up into a rough knot. She looked focused, calm—until Nikolai's foot swept forward.
She barely sidestepped.
"You're slow today," he muttered.
"I'm still sore."
"Then stop being weak."
Her jab followed the words, aimed at his throat. He caught it—barely—and twisted her wrist until she broke contact, slipping off balance with a grin.
"I thought you were going to lecture me again."
Nikolai wiped his sweat with a smile, watching her stretch her hips, bending down to touch her toes, emphasising her alluring peach.
"Why lecture you for something I cannot change... I'm not stupid."
Amphitrite's heels clacked as she entered the room, leaning against the doorway, hiding her sultry figure.
A towel over her shoulder and a smirk on her lips.
She stepped inside with a smirk. "Are we fighting or flirting in here?"
"Both," Lunaria muttered.
"Good. I'll join the flirting."
She dropped the towel and stepped forward in skin-tight blue training shorts, bare arms and thighs gleaming faintly from a pre-workout stretch. Nikolai enjoyed the erotic sway of her hips after each step; Amphitrite's charm was enough to grab his attention.
"Don't go easy on me~ I'll show you how feisty I can be."
Lunaria rolled her eyes and moved aside, taking a break as Amphitrite circled Nikolai.
"Three minutes," he said.
"How generous."
Then she moved.
Amphitrite didn't fight with a polished style like Lunaria's—it was fluid, unpredictable. Her mermaid instincts made her movements graceful, but her strikes were feral. A knee caught him in the ribs. Her palm caught the side of his head.
He grunted, stepped in, and countered with a hard elbow that would've broken her nose. Amphitrite deflected it with a slippery twist of her shoulder and got inside his guard again.
"Getting slow already, Lord Volkov?"
"Or maybe you're too close for me to aim properly."
"Then grab me," she purred.
Before the mermaid reacted, Nikolai spun around her back, both hands gripped her buttocks, and lifted her into the air, slamming the beauty into the ground.
Thud!
Lunaria snorted from the corner, arms crossed.
"You two need a private room?"
Nikolai exhaled through his teeth. "She doesn't fight fair."
He didn't lie. Once the mermaid started fighting, Amphitrite's hands groped and slid across his crotch, using foul means to distract him in any manner.
"I can see that..."
Lunaria gazed down at the swollen part of his crotch, her lips trembling but unable to pull herself away from the bulge.
"Need some help?"
"Put your eyes away, perverted women."
"Heh... I am innocent, little wolf."
"Why are you complaining? Life won't fight fairly, babe." Amphitrite said, pushing herself off the ground and attempting to trip him with a heel sweep.
He caught himself before hitting the ground, but his breath was tight.
It wasn't sparring anymore. It was a reminder: the girls were also warriors.
With each punch and blow, he started to accept this, despite their pristine bodies. When Nikolai finally stopped to drink from the cold water flask, Lunaria approached again.
"We're not trying to prove we're better than you... We just want to help you."
"Even when you push us away," Amphitrite added.
Nikolai gulped the water, gazing at both women in silence, then lowered his hands. "I know."
"...Thank you."
He meant it.
They nodded—but the moment passed quickly.
The spar didn't end there.
Amphitrite lunged again with that same teasing smirk, but Nikolai caught her leg mid-kick, spun her once, and pinned her flat to the mat with a knee to her back.
"Dirty tricks only work once."
He grimaced, feeling his manhood sandwiched between her juicy peach as she clenched both cheeks together, trapping him before she purred in his ear.
Amphitrite groaned, her cheek pressed to the floor. "Mmm... I'll remember that for next time."
He rolled off her before she could retaliate, already turning to Lunaria, who didn't wait. She moved in fast; no flirting or smirk. Pure, sharp speed.
'Damn this woman...'
Their arms clashed, fists met flesh. The air rippled as Luna's palm grazed his ribs, her soft body pressing against his arm.
Still too slow.
He caught her wrist, then her ankle mid-spin, hoisting her off balance and setting her down with a grunt and a thud.
"Both of you… Need better distractions."
Amphitrite sighed, dragging her body up from the ground. "You say that like we're not just getting started."
Lunaria pushed hair from her eyes, cheeks flushed.
"You're just lucky we're not trying to win."
Nikolai smirked and pulled off his top, his body lubricated with sweat and heat. "Then keep trying."
"Wow..."
"Our man is fucking ripped..."
It was late. Most lights in the mansion had dimmed, casting the corridors in soft amber and heavy shadow. Leona's boots made little sound on the polished floors, her steps measured, but restless.
She didn't carry a tray. No folded towels, no water, no quiet orders to deliver.
Not once did he call for her.
'Why?'
'Why does my master push me away?'
Nikolai hadn't said a word to her all evening—no call to help during training, no teasing look, no request for company. He had grown distant. Not cruel… just farther. And after the talk with Amphitrite, her chest still tightened when she thought of those words:
"Unless you're willing to compete, be clear what you're offering."
Her hand clenched slightly at her side. She wasn't sure what she was offering. But she wanted to stand beside Nikolai, not as just a maid or someone to warm his bed for a night.
A faint voice caught her ear.
She paused at a cross-section of the corridor, just behind a pillar, because two younger servants were speaking in hushed tones, unaware of her presence.
"…They're saying he's heading to Drevnos… House Everen's territory. He's planning to attack."
"Is that true? The Patriarch's not even fully recovered…"
"I overheard Lady Risa telling Lady Selene—he's going, no matter what."
Leona's eyes narrowed, breath slowing.
Just then, a figure down the hallway moved suspiciously. A man, average height, cloak pulled low, paused at the edge of the corridor. He checked a small pocket watch, glanced around once, then started walking toward the entrance foyer with no hesitation.
He didn't belong.
He hadn't stopped for a single servant. Didn't greet anyone. 𝘯𝑜𝘷𝘱𝘶𝑏.𝘤𝘰𝑚
Leona's body moved before her mind caught up.
Her muscles contracted under her skin, tight and stretched as her limbs grew. She cracked her shoulders with a straightened back, and her gentle, submissive posture melted into a feral hunting dog. The bones in her hands cracked, and her fingers spread out, nails growing into claw-like points.
Two golden-brown ears twitched atop her head, fully alert.
A matching tail whipped behind her, low and tense, her balance sharpening as every footfall became silent and lethal.
Her jaw clenched, teeth sharper now. Her face remained beautiful—but that beauty was stripped of gentleness, replaced by a savage focus that made prey stop breathing.
The man was already halfway down the hallway, like a swift rat darting toward the outer corridor that led to the main doors.
Too slow, fool.
Leona shot forward. Her muscles worked like springs, each step tighter, faster—legs like coiled steel, honed from years of quiet, brutal repetition. She didn't waste movement. Didn't shout.
She just ran.
The man reached the front doors and slipped through them into the snow-dusted night, not even bothering to close them fully behind him.
The mistake sealed his fate.
Leona darted past two startled guards without a word and leapt down the stone steps, her breath barely fogging the cold air as she launched forward.
She saw him sprinting toward the outer wall.
A whistle. Maybe a signal.
She didn't care who he was calling.
Her feet barely kissed the ground as she launched herself low, her body almost parallel to the earth, a blur of skin, muscle, and motion. Her tail whipped behind her, balancing her like a blade ready to plunge.
The spy glanced back.
Saw nothing—
Until she dropped from above like death itself.
The moment his shoulders slackened in false relief, Leona came crashing down from the rooftop arch—knees bent, muscles coiled like a predator mid-pounce.
Her body slammed into him with the force of a falling star.
They hit the earth with a sickening thud, stone cracking beneath their weight as the spy gasped—air and hope crushed from his lungs in an instant.
He couldn't even scream
"How dare you!"
With a single knee, she pinned the bastard down, crushing his shoulder blades; a hand on the back of his skull. Then she slammed his face into the ground.
Once.
Twice.
Blood splattered in a red arc across the snow-dusted stone.
"How dare you betray him!"
Leona's chin raised as she opened her mouth. Her eyes wild and glowing, she released a snarl from her throat, erupting into a sharp, brutal howl that shattered the quiet.
It echoed through the Volkov estate.
Windows shivered. Doors flung open. Footsteps pounded toward her.
Guards rushed from their posts, weapons drawn. The maids gasped from behind the pillars. Someone called for chains.
Leona didn't move.
Her breath came hot and fast. A torn outfit—her blouse clinging to one shoulder, the other half ripped down the seam. Her stomach glistened with sweat, abs tight and defined, thighs tense and quivering from the kill.
And then—him.
Nikolai stepped into the courtyard from the far archway, still shirtless from training, chest rising slowly.
Their eyes met across the chaos.
He didn't blink.
Didn't ask what happened.
He just looked at her.
And she felt it—not admiration.
His gaze dragged over her like heat, like possession. A primal weight to it, the kind only male wolves gave when they saw something they wanted.
Leona's breath caught in her throat.
'He's looking…'
'No—he's glaring at me... like a male wolf sizing up an attractive female.'
Her heart rumbled, going wild inside her chest.
She should've looked away.
But couldn't,
The man beneath her groaned, forgotten.
And all Leona could hear was her pulse and that look in his eyes.
