The temperature in the room gradually rose. The air bubbled with such a thick, romantic tension that even the moon hid behind the dark clouds in shame.
The next day, Ophelia woke up enveloped in a scorching heat. Her waist felt sore and limp, aching from being held so tightly. She shifted, trying to escape, but the arm wrapped around her waist abruptly tightened. She swatted at Tyler's arm, but to a male beastman, her strength was nothing more than a kitten's scratch—utterly harmless.
Tyler slowly opened his eyes and nuzzled the back of the little female's neck.
"Princess, you're awake."
Ophelia rolled her eyes. "No, I'm not. You're seeing things."
