The Nymph Wants to be Plundered - Chapter 38

“Phivi…” one began, voice hushed.

“Shh. Quiet,” the other cut in sharply. “What we see and hear within the Hall of Glory—no matter how unsavory—does not leave these walls. Even without a soul-bound oath, that much should go without saying, shouldn’t it?”

“Mmm, of course.”

Phivi agreed outwardly, but privately, she couldn’t deny the validity of their kin’s grievances.

The decline of the nymphs had been an unfortunate affair, true—but with the new king’s ascension, one who also bore the mantle of World Tree Guardian, most had assumed the worst was behind them. If anything, life had grown more peaceful, more prosperous in his reign. The elves flourished, and their reverence for His Majesty only deepened with time.

Yet the era of nymph prosperity had been… taxing. Resources—manpower, materials, attention—had been endlessly diverted to sustain what many considered a lesser race. The highborn elves had endured it with stoic grace, of course, never allowing their disdain to surface openly. But the strain had been undeniable.

And now? A new nymph had emerged, dragging their world back into that old imbalance.

Worse, she was human-born.

With both the king and the Elder Council quietly permitting her presence, it was clear she would cling to Jupiter like a burr until her dying day. Already an outcast, already resented—how could a half-blood nymph ever hope to be welcomed?

Perhaps even His Majesty only tolerates her out of obligation, Phivi thought, though the disloyalty of the suspicion made her mouth twist. Still, her voice was firm when she spoke again.

“Come, Mel. If they try to bait us into gossip, we don’t take it. Understood?”

“Y-yes.”

Before long, even Nike’s singing faded into the night, leaving the palace in hushed stillness.

Elsewhere, deep within the Hall of Glory…

Evelyn let out a startled gasp as Cassis guided her forward—his grip unrelenting, her steps unsteady. The grand corridor stretched endlessly before them, shadows pooling where torchlight failed to reach.

“Ah—!”

His private chambers loomed ahead, a threshold that seemed to pulse with unspoken promise. Sanctuary or gilded cage, she couldn’t decide.

Perhaps it would be both.

Then her foot caught, and she stumbled. Cassis’ grip tightened, his arm locking around her waist as he hauled her flush against him. The hard line of his body pressed into her back, leaving no room for innocence. Evelyn twisted away, her voice a breathless lie.

“I’m fine. Let go.”

“Really?” His thumb traced the dip of her hip, slow and deliberate.

“Y-yes.”

But her body betrayed her. The flush on her cheeks wasn’t just from the cold—it streaked down her neck, her chest, the peaks of her nxxples stiffening under her dress. Every panting breath left her lips parted, wet. And Cassis? He was fxxxking hard, his cxck throbbing against her as his control unraveled.

The study door loomed behind them. A place of dust and quiet, where he’d spent nights bent over books instead of bending her over the desk. The irony wasn’t lost on him.

“You expect me to believe that?” he murmured, teeth grazing the shell of her ear.

“Fxxx— yes!” The whimper tore from her throat as his hand slid lower, cupping her through her skirts.

He laughed, dark and rough. “Liar.” A snap of his fingers, and the fireplace roared to life, flames licking hungrily at the air—just like he planned to lick her. In one motion, he spun her around and shoved her onto the desk. Parchment scattered. A bottle of ink shattered on the floor.

Evelyn’s legs fell open instinctively, her skirts rucked up to her thighs. Cassis stepped between them, his palm grinding against the soaked fabric between her legs. “This says otherwise.”

She arched off the desk with a gasp. “C-Cassis—!”

“Tell me,” he growled, ripping her underwear aside, fingers plunging into her dripping cxnt without warning. “Still want me to let go?”

She was a fxxxking anomaly.

The Guardian of the World Tree, the immortal Elven King who had spent centuries in detached precision, now had his control unraveled by one human woman. Evelyn wasn’t some gentle rain seeping into his cracks—she was a storm, a fxxxking flood, drenching him in a way so violent it left him aching.