(The first and last scenes in italics are flashbacks. Both are continuations of the previous chapter's flashbacks. Illumi and Psyche are 19 and 17, respectively.)

Chapter 8: June in January

Summer.

It wasn't the only reason why Psyche wore dresses. Illumi didn't say the words explicitly. He didn't issue her a mandate on a new dress code either. It was on a lazy summer day when the Zoldyck's were visiting the Moiraio's. The day was unexpectedly sweltering for June, it seemed to suck the life out of everyone and everything below the sun where even the children who were ruthless and cold blooded killers sequestered themselves to rest under a canopy of oak trees and lapped up the shade as if they were starved of it all their lives. Stretching and scrunching up their legs when the shadows began to shift places under the trees—fearing that even a single touch of the sun on the tips of their toes would burn them up. Even the wind was too tired itself to push and pull the plump flower buds on their branches. Barely tugging them into motion. The world was still and that was how it felt when Illumi told Psyche she looks pretty in dresses.

It was as if the universe was telling her this was the only thing she should be paying any attention to. Yes, he used the word pretty. He thought she was pretty. That conservation kept replaying over again in her mind, as if it got better with each repetition and the magic hidden in his words slowly unveiled themselves to her the more she listened to them. So Psyche immediately found herself emboldened with fiery determination, when the Zoldycks left from their visit, and swapped out her jeans with dresses and skirts out of her armoire.

Goodbye to shorts and skorts and bellbottoms and buckles. Hello to maxis and skaters and sun dresses galore.

Perhaps that is why that memory came forth in her mind when he told her to lift up her dress. Illumi effortlessly ordered a command and Psyche was quick to obey. He positioned himself exactly where he would have the most control over her—and the most fun. Pinning her underneath him, both her legs parted, making way for him in the center. His hips rested above hers with a space between the two that was small enough for her to want to close the gap.

Psyche's breath hitched.

Illumi's eyes waited expectantly. He wanted to see her do it.

Psyche's fingers made the way to the hem of her dress. Gripping and curling the bottoms in her fist with a flaming ache and seemed to grow hotter the more she lifted it up. Shivering where the cold air and the denim of Illumi's pants met her bare skin. She was caught between two senses, cool and rough. For a moment, she stopped. And Illumi cocked his head to the side, wondering why she stopped but those words did not leave his lips. He wasn't in the mood for asking politely. Instead he spoke softly, only using his breath, perhaps for the sake of privacy. "Higher."

Psyche's heart was thrumming—clamoring even—to a wild beat. Cowardice suddenly overtook her, as she looked away from Illumi's eyes when she lifted her dress above her hips. Revealing her slim waist and only a thin pair of undergarments she wore beneath her sundress. Covering what he soon hoped to tear away with feverous pleasure.

However…

Illumi cupped her chin within his hand and turned her face towards his. Eyes meeting. The shock startled Psyche and she dared to avert her gaze, but he held her to him. "Never look away." There was a softness in his voice, one that comes out only when no one else is watching. Except with her. She could feel the fire blooming inside of her as he laid his lips on top of hers. As if he was a matchstick that sparked her to life. He pressed softly against her then with a force that melted away all her shyness and made her wrap her arms around his back in search of his shirt.

She wanted it off.

Now.

She only scavenged a taste of his skin before Illumi grabbed her hand and tsked. Bringing the tips of her fingers to his lips and kissing them. "No, just you."

He saw a look of disappointment cross her eyes.

Illumi relented. "For now."

Psyche's lips opened to complain, but no words came out. Only a gasp. One that trembled when his lips began to explore her bare waist. His kisses were warm and sweet and reminded her of that sweltering June day—and what would come next will be her relief like the shade under the towering oak trees. This boy had a clever way of trapping summer in his lips—he made her burn. The tips of his fingers hooked underneath the waistband of her undergarments. Impishly tugging with a wicked playfulness whilst on the verge of prying them away. The suspense gnawed at her when he made his way to her thighs. Slowly, drawing out her throbbing impatience with every lick and flick of his tongue.

Illumi pushed himself back up, putting all his weight and resting back on his legs. Psyche gasped when he grabbed both of her hips and pulled her towards him. Muscles pulsing through his arms as he claimed her. Her hips resting on his thighs. Cruelty was his weapon of choice as he slowly dragged his hand over the fabric covering her center, then quickly flicking his fingers up and down, pushing against her swollen center. Making the fabric that kept him from entirely touching her become more and more wet. He had one want—to see her soaking through the fabric for him. Illumi watched excitedly as her chest rose and fell, quicker than before. Enjoying making her pant for him. Feeling his own heart and groin swell as he played on.

Did he consider himself a maestro? Why yes. He knew where to touch her to make her sing for him.

He flickered her again, pressing harder and faster and watched as her hips thrusted up following his hand. A whimper then an ache that made her legs twitch. "What's wrong?" He already knew.

"Please," Psyche breathed a plea as her dark hair fanned around her head in lazy swirls. Cheeks reddened, lips parted, eyes glittering only for him. Breaths escaping faster than she would have liked.

He mocked her words, "please…what? Tell me." He stroked her with his thumb and drew slow and agonizing circles over the wet fabric that slowly began to spread. He silently mouthed the words back like a prayer that grew more powerful each time he gave them life. Tell me. Tell me. Tell me.

Psyche shivered under his gaze as his words chipped her away. Sending her stomach into a mad array of flutters. Her voice was soft and weak, "touch me."

Illumi lessened the pressure of his hand and watched with pleasure at the wreckage taking hold of her.

His heartlessness gripped her voice and pushed towards desperation. "Touch me." She muttered, louder.

Illumi pulled his hand away and leaned back on his arms. His cold, black eyes told her that it wasn't convincing enough. She'll have to try harder than that.

Her whimpers were his kindle. Gorging himself on her childish intolerance for his perpetual teasing that only made him relish and take pride in his sadistic devices.

A wicked smile played on Illumi's lips. He likes the sound of her begging for him. He decided he wanted to hear more of it—

The doorknob turned.

And all fun had to cease.

A butler opened the door and squinted his eyes to examine the pitch black room. There was nothing and no one to see. The butler scratched his head, as if scraping away his confusion, as he closed the door shut. He thought he heard something. Master Eros instructed him to find the two assassins, as they were taking too long and might need help in their search and rescue mission over Psyche's lost book. Meanwhile, the two teens escaped without being noticed. All thanks to the assassin who wields shadows that act in her name.

A black fox jumped out of the shadows in an adjacent room and shook its head when it landed on its furry paws. The coast was clear. This little black fox with pointy ears that rivaled the devil's, a tail that was meaner than any captain's whip, and eyes that could make any child cry with a sneer went by the name of Willow and it was one of the Black Angel's dutiful shadows. Psyche and Illumi crawled through the shadowy burrow that Willow dug for them, and both finally let go of their breaths. They collapsed to the ground, thankful that neither of them were caught by the butler. They were seconds away from ear splintering lectures by both of their parents about the perils and pitfals and penitences—and not to mention countless terrifying names of sexually transmitted diseases that could chew off all their good limbs (both of their parents assured them it would be a slow and agonizing death)—about pre-marital sex!

Illumi noticed one of Psyche's straps fell off her shoulder. He wordlessly lifted it back in place. Heat scorched Psyche's shoulder where he touched her—and where he lingered.

"Thank Heavens for Willow." Psyche sighed, relieved. The fox blinked at both assassins, neither looking pleased nor annoyed by its master's congratulatory remarks. It simply did what it was told and followed diligently.

Curiosity took hold of Illumi as he combed his hand over its fur. Something within the black fox was boiling over, and if Psyche told it to bite Illumi then it would do so immaculately. Going above and beyond Psyche's expectations by biting off Illumi's arm. Then flaunting its new chew-toy in front of him. Waiting for the fool to cry at what he lost. Because chew-toys were fun, but nothing beats the sound of boys crying.

"It looks like it's plotting my demise." Illumi withdrew his hand. Smart choice.

"Willow, no! He's nice."

A nice chew-toy, Willow thought.

Psyche ushered it back into her own shadow and the little black fox turned away from the boy assassin and bowed its head to its master before disappearing into her own. Psyche smoothed out her dress and leaned towards Illumi. She wanted to resume what they left unfinished.

"The cost must be high." Illumi leaned back on his arms.

Psyche's lips only met cold air. Her expectations? High? Always. Where else should they be?

"You're a transmuter, correct?"

She was touched that he remembered her nen type. "And you're a manipulator and I think we were about to—" All she wanted him to do was to pull her into his lap and make her forget her own name.

Illumi did the unthinkable. He was caught thinking. There was no act more heinous that could sizzle Psyche's mood. Now was not the time for thinking, but for sweeping her in his arms and doing everything to her that would make his mom have a heart attack. He continued on, thinking aloud and souring her mood further. "You've extended your abilities into conjuration as well. Your aura mimics the properties of shadows, yet you created these shadow monsters and have them take on their own physical forms–tangible, animate, spontaneous. I can see and touch them, even the fur on its back feels real. Impressive."

Psyche's mood instantly elevated. By praising her, he was swooning her. Clever. A pink blush formed on her cheeks. "Well, I wouldn't say the cost is unreasonably high, but it is manageable. There are restrictions, however. Willow can only guide me through pre-existing shadows and create burrows between them, ergo connect various locations over short distances."

"You call it Willow. Does that name have any significance?

Psyche curled a strand of loose hair in between her fingers. "Not really, well, kind of. You'll think it's silly."

"Try me."

"It's, um…have you read fairy tales?"

He was looking at one. "Not usually."

"Well, there are these creatures called will-o-wisps. They're these enchanting, ethereal fairy lights—flickering flames found floating over the misty moors—"

Illumi blinked, "do these lights also turn you into a poet?"

Embarrassment bundled inside of her. "I can't help it, and it's only right to use magical words to describe magical things."

Illumi couldn't help himself from smiling. "That's a beautiful way to think."

Psyche felt her cheeks burning, she tried to continue speaking without her voice wavering. "Anyway, they're found in the bogs of England and if you're brave enough to follow one it might spirit you away to the fairy realm."

"Do we want to go there?" Illumi asked, skeptically.

Psyche shook her head, excitedly. Only confusing Illumi further. "They appear harmless, but it's all one dirty trick. They're malevolent and mischievous creatures who go out of their way to lure travelers off their path and into danger. Then other legends claim that they can lead you to the fairy realm safely. So it's really a 50/50 chance, right? It's a flip of a coin between partying with the immortal fae and meeting otherwise certain death."

"Psyche…those lights may be pretty but the odds sound terrible."

"They are pretty." Psyche mourned having never seen one before. "They're supposed to be the most beautiful lights in all the world."

"And the odds are terrible." Illumi repeated again, but Psyche wasn't listening.

"I've never seen one—yet."

"I hope not."

Psyche was baffled. "Don't you dare crush my dreams."

"If your dream is to end up face down in a bog, then you don't need to see magical lights to make that happen."

"I'm certain that is not going to happen."

Illumi flicked his fingers in the air, "says the traveler walking straight into the bog." Psyche grabbed a pillow from a nearby couch and tossed it at him, but Illumi caught it with ease. He dramatically fell back and feigned he was trapped in the mystical bog. With the pillow behind his head. If he was going to die in a bog, he might as well die comfortably. He lamented, only inciting Psyche further. "The fairy realm is muddier than how the books described it would be and there is not one sparkling—"

"Fae don't sparkle. Vampires do." Psyche corrected him.

"Don't they all."

Psyche opened her mouth to object, until she closed it again. Blushing.

"They do." Illumi laughed. "Oh…It seems I have insulted you."

"That's right."

"Ah."

"I'm waiting."

"For what?"

"You don't know?"

"Nope." He bit down his smile and forced a monotone expression when he saw just how much his comment made her fume. Illumi had a horrible, unbreakable habit about giving answers no one wanted to hear. Of course, he wasn't going to stop now. Why should he when he was having so much fun?

"An apology!"

"Is that so?" Illumi blinked his eyes and threw his arms out. "If you haven't already noticed, I'm the one trapped in the bog—dying." Then he abruptly pulled his arms back in, remembering that he was being swallowed by the bog. "And you want an apology? Psyche, you're being uncharacteristically selfish."

Because he refused to move his attitude and body, Psyche decided to pry it out of him. She straddled herself comfortably over his hips, but that made the bog all the more comfortable to him. Perhaps dying here was the perfect way to go.

"Apologize."

"Don't threaten me with a good time."

Psyche grazed her hands over his chest—making Illumi's breath hitch. She tugged at the collar of his shirt; peeking glances of his bare skin and warning about the consequences of defying her. "Apologize."

Illumi grabbed her hands. Fingers intertwining. "I followed a fairy here, but she doesn't seem to be that nice."

Psyche let go and drew mindless figure eights on his chest—over his heart. "She can be nice when persuaded to be."

"And what will persuade her? I don't have long—my legs are going numb."

"Oh, sorry!" Psyche meant to move, but Illumi grabbed her hips, fingers digging into her skin.

"It's the good kind." His hands were firm around her. "So you named your fox after a will-o-wisp. Cute."

He called her…cute. It felt as if Cupid's arrow pierced her heart.

Illumi smirked wickedly and that was when Psyche knew that she made a grave mistake. He grappled one arm around her waist and another to push him off the ground as he quickly turned his body and had her instantaneously beneath him. "Maybe the fairy will return the fairy if I show her what nice is."

Before he could give her one more kiss, they heard footsteps scurrying down the hallway. It seemed as if everything in the world wanted to interrupt them.

Psyche huffed as Illumi lifted himself and pulled her up with him. "Psyche, before either one of us forgets or a butler reminds us. We have to find the book you didn't lose." Then he bent down to her ear and whispered.

When he was finished, she was quick to say yes.

Despite her macabre upbringing, Psyche considered herself to have been bestowed with many blessings. To live in a world where even the coldest frost could not deter strawberries from growing in the blistering squalls of winter, and a world where she is a January bride married to the love of her life. Illumi Zoldyck. It was always a good year to marry in January and just as her mother says, marry in January and your life will never be ordinary. When the wedding ceremony ended, on the summit of Kukuroo Mountain, snow began to float down from the gray sky and veils of snow white frost crowned their heads. Psyche already felt like a queen standing beside Illumi.

Psyche bit into a strawberry and let its sweet juices encapsulate her senses. Making the sides of her jaw tingle like when one gozzles freshly squeezed orange juice, fruits plucked straight from the groves basking beneath the warm sun. She looked onward at the reception and saw nothing but two happy families, and the beginning of an even happier life.

Psyche, upon changing out of her white shiromuku, opted for a simple white tea length gown for the party. Both the sleeves that came all the way down to her wrists and the hem of her gown were covered with sheer lace and gave the look that she emerged right out of the snow banks. It was a good thing she changed into a new gown, since she didn't want to enjoy her wedding reception covered in dried blood.

The assassination on their lives was merely a minor setback, and not even that could ruin her day. She barely even noticed the wound on her arm as she sat right next to illumi at the head of the table. Was it possible to be this inexplicably happy all at once? To feel joy fizzle and pop within her like she was a shaken up bottle of soda. Psyche decided that this was the greatest moment of her life, nothing before or after could ever top this.

She was marveled at the feast laid out in front of her. That was by far the biggest fish she has ever seen in her life! It was a monster! She reasoned that she could fit in its jaw and there still would be enough room for her to stretch her legs. Its seared pink flesh was glazed with blood orange sauce and her mouth watered just thinking about taking the first bite. Milluki offered to cut her the first slice. Carving the beast with careful incisions, making sure to avoid giving her bones.

The laughter and chatter in the room ceased when Kikyo called upon her youngest boy in the room to perform a piece especially for this moment. All eyes and ears halted to a still for Kalluto, neither protesting or objecting, as he stood stoically up and took a seat next to a koto, which was brought out by the Zoldyck butlers with care. His arms moved with agile grace as he plucked the strings of the instrument, weaving music into poetry. Spinning love into light that glowed in Psyche's heart.

Illumi was looking at Kalluto and there was a tender look in his eyes that shined with pride. It will be wonderful to have brothers again! Especially brothers that don't try to murder the entire family! She shook away her thoughts of Eros and all his heinous mistakes and only listened to sounds of her new world opening its arms towards her.

But as Kalluto's performance went on, Illumi's muscles tightened, he became more rigid trying to bottle energy that was slowly leaking through his cracks. Patience wasn't his virtue as he leaned towards his father, who only slightly moved his head to Illumi while his blue eyes stayed fixated on his littlest child's music. His eyes would not budge and neither would Illumi's impatience. Curiosity tugged on her hand as it pulled her to her husband's words, which were barely audible. Illumi's quietness devoured her. Was it out of politeness for Kalluto's performance or did he not want her to eavesdrop?

Finally, Silva turned his head towards his eldest son and nodded before looking away. As if whatever Illumi had to say was an inconvenience he'd rather not be tangled in.

Psyche's heart leapt from her chest when Illumi stood up, careful not to rouse everyone's attention from Kalluto, and quietly exited the wasn't a note out of place when

Kalluto looked up and saw his older brother leave before returning his attention back to the koto. He played on. He would not allow himself mishaps or mistakes. Instead, he played on, beautifully as he always does.

Psyche looked back at the door from which he left and for a moment she didn't know what to do. She wanted to chase after him, but didn't want to interrupt Kalluto's performance. As the music dragged on she found herself unwilling to concentrate on it and more on the door, wondering—hoping—Illumi would return soon. The time felt ancient as the seconds stretched on.

Kalluto lifted his hands and the cheers erupted through the crowd.

Psyche stood up and exited the room. Kalluto's cold eyes couldn't help but scowl when she did. She turned to Amane and said, "bring me to my husband." Urgency laced the crevices of her words.

"Yes, Mistress." Amane followed her new Mistress's orders diligently and brought the young bride to his room.

Psyche breathed and willed herself to be confident. Should she knock first? She was now his wife, she doesn't need to knock—but manners shouldn't be forsaken just because they were now married. She was a lady, not a heathen. But, if it's urgent then she should skip formalities and go right on in—

She took too long to decide, so the universe decided for her. Illumi opened the door and gasped. 'You startled me."

Psyche could say the same. "I was just about to knock—" She looked at him from head to toe and asked, quizzically. "What are you wearing?"

Illumi looked down at his outfit too, as if there was something wrong with it. He saw nothing while Psyche saw everything. The neon green suit with puffed sleeves should have died and stayed in the 19th century. Along with bright gold needles sporadically placed throughout the suit with….Psyche couldn't even finish her thoughts, from how appalling his clothing was. He was wearing a corset too—ok, she did like those. "Are those buckled shoes?" Her voice was raw fear.

"These?" Illumi turned his foot, letting the gold buckle glimmer in the light, as if trying to find the right angle that could make it look like any less of a disaster. Psyche didn't know if that was something to flex over or if any angle could make madness look sane. "They were just lying around." If they were laid to rest that's where they should have stayed. "Do you like them?" His voice sounded so genuine and sincere, making it even harder for Psyche to truthfully answer.

Psyche forced the most convincing mh-hmm she could muster. Even Chaotica would be impressed with her acting skills.

"Liar." He lulled.

He's her husband, so she should respect his fashion taste. But she is his wife and he should respect her opinion. And her opinion was that his outfit belonged in no one's closet and in a black garbage bag. "Well, no, it just looks snug to move around in. It might be hard for our first dance together—"

"I'm leaving."

Psyche happily linked her arm with his. Radiant. "As am I."

Illumi gently pulled his arm out of hers. "I'm afraid not."

She should have complimented his shoes even if they were the most hideous thing she has seen all her life. "I really do like your shoes. They're so…vintage!"

Ilumi walked on without her. "Thank you, they're new."

Psyche quickened her steps and jumped right in front of him.

Forced to stop, Illumi placed his hand on his hip. Vexed. "Is there something you would like to tell me?"

She wanted to ask him the same thing. "The reception hasn't ended. We haven't even cut the cake together."

He veered to walk by her. "My absence won't be noticed."

She veered in his way again. "I noticed."

Illumi sighed, as if the mere action of explaining everything to his wife was a hassle. "My next job requires me to have a hunter's license and it's vital I leave now to take the exam, or else I'll miss registration. Father already approved of my departure. In fact, he wondered why I hadn't left sooner."

Psyche wanted to say that a husband shouldn't abandon his wife on their first day as newlyweds. It wasn't right. "Can't you reschedule the test date and take it at another time?"

Illumi wanted to laugh, but he didn't even have time for that. "The committee isn't so accommodating."

"What time does it start?"

"It might not have started or it may have already ended."

Psyche raised her eyebrows. "Where is it?"

"Don't know. I'll have to figure that out along the way."

"...Does it even exist?"

"I'll find out when I get there."

It all sounded so vague, it was as if the hunter committee didn't want anyone to take the exam at all. And Psyche, the most, because it was taking Illumi away from her on their special day. "You'll make it back tonight, right?" How long could the exam be?

Illumi sighed a heavy breath and that was all the answer she needed to hear. "If I stay any longer, then I'll miss the ship to Dolle Harbor."

Psyche scrunched her brows together, confused. "I'm not familiar with that name. How far away is it?"

"In Kukan'yu Kingdom."

Psyche's eyes widened in shock. "That's in another continent!"

"Well done. You know your maps." Illumi said matter of factly. Never stopping a moment to stand still as his wife desperately tried to keep up with him. Curse his long, sculpted legs!

Psyche quickened her steps, though she was still falling behind him. "Your grandfather is friends with the chairman of the hunter association, I forget his name, what was his name—" A butler handed Illumi a packed bag and Psyche scowled at the man who clearly wasn't helping her situation. Everyone seemed content with Illumi leaving, all except her! "Ah, yes! His name is Isaac Netero."

"I love that you can answer your own questions." Illumi deadpanned. A butler opened a door to reveal a corridor and Psyche struggled to keep up.

"Can't your grandfather call and talk to him? Not to delay the exam, per se, but maybe a slight postponement–WILL YOU PLEASE WAIT A MO–"

Illumi was gone. All she saw were strands of black hair that wisped past the corner and disappeared out of sight. Her cheeks fumed red as she whipped her head towards a butler, sending shivers down their spine from her prinkling eyes. If her husband won't listen to her, then she will make him.

Illumi made it to the garage where he was met by a fleet of cars. Which one should he choose? They were all the same, and expensive, regardless. He called out to a butler without bothering to turn his head. "Lincoln navigator. Keys."

The butler tossed Illumi the keys to the car in a swift motion. Keys in one hand. Door handle in the other. And his wife behind his back.

Illumi closed his eyes and breathed. "Nothing you do or say will change my mind." He opened his eyes and saw her pretty reflection in the window. A disgruntled wife who wasn't getting her way along with her furry little shadow, Willow. There hasn't been a day Illumi hadn't thought of that wonderful glare snugly placed between its mean eyes and sharp teeth just for him. If he didn't know any better, he'd say little Willow has a crush on him.

Willow growled. Its eyes were aiming right for Illumi's legs. Psyche hushed it.

The shadow portal Willow burrowed began to close up, but Psyche's defiance only seemed to explode when she walked towards Illumi. The butler abruptly stood to attention, not knowing whether a conversation or a fight was going to break out.

Will the wedding also hold a funeral?

Psyche stood before Illumi. And smiled. "I know. I only wish you would have told me sooner, but I understand. Your work is your priority, which is now mine and I will not stand in the way of it. Good luck with the exam, I know you'll pass. Come home safely and I will be here waiting for you until you do."

Illumi turned on the car and the sound of the engine roared to life, thrumming through the room. He took the break off, but before he put the car in drive he turned to Psyche. "There is something I wish to discuss with you, I'm sorry that the timing isn't aligning right for either of us, so it will have to wait until the exam is finished."

There was a lot to discuss. Their future. Their lives together as husband and wife. The possibility of children and how many—and how soon! Psyche's head was becoming dizzy at that thought alone.

Psyche regained her calm and put her hands on the window frame, "I would like that very much." She didn't take her eyes off him. "I..I love you." That was the first time she said I love you to him. She noticed how her heart beated differently when she said it. It was as if the words unlocked a new and uncharted piece of her heart that was bound for fervent exploration.

Illumi only nodded. "See you soon."

He did not kiss her goodbye or tell her that he loved her back. Convincing herself he was too anxious to say more because of his upcoming exam, and that he meant it in his heart. She could only smile and wave through the dull pang of a heart slowly breaking as he drove away. From home. From the wedding. And from her.

When the Mountain was fast asleep, a little fox dug a burrow.

Psyche crawled out of the shadow burrow and into Illumi's room, just as he instructed her. Willow was a very good tracker. She stood up and marveled at the room. Excluding her brother, this was the first time she stood inside a boy's room. Her crush's room. It was so manly, so—Illumi!

Everything inside of her was jolting with exhilaration. It was simultaneously somewhere she shouldn't be, yet everywhere she ever wanted to be. There was one more place she could think of that called out to her…

Without hesitation, Illumi picked her up and threw her down on his bed. A restlessness held Psyche's gaze—he could not stop thinking of this exact and it drove him mad waiting. She combed her hands over the soft blanket—black like stone.

Impatience broiled over the day, having been forced to resist a hunger that grew more ravenous with each fasting hour, making both assassins greedy and selfish for relief within the other.

Between one kiss, Illumi pulled off his shirt. Between another, Psyche pulled off hers. Disheveled clumps of clothing were carelessly tossed aside, hanging off the edge of the bed and on the floor. His lips met her neck in a heated frenzy and nipped at her bra strap. It was pesky and in the way. His lips and tongue explored ravenously over the mounds of her breasts—she could not hide her nipples from rising beneath her bra when he accidentally grazed them, more than once.

Illumi felt a growing fire with every kiss and touch of her skin on his. It kindled and sparked when Psyche threw herself on his lap. Pressing her pelvis down on his. A moan escaped his mouth when she rolled her hips over his, putting pressure on his groin that was growing and hardening beneath his briefs. A raging force that compelled him to lie beneath her and let her have her way. She leaned for a kiss, Illumi waited expectantly—until Psyche pulled back with mischievous laughter.

Illumi fell for her trick. His head fell back on a pillow. "You are cruel."

Psyche could also be kind.

She moved further down his body, slowly kissing his abdomen lower and lower—sending his body wonderful shivers of senses ignited—until her face was over his briefs and everything in his body trembled when she began fondling his groin. Gentle brushes that gradually firmed up when he did. From cheek to cheek, Illumi was burning red and his eyes glimmered with want and lust. Psyche noticed the way his breathing broke rhythm when she outlined the swollen mass with her fingers over his briefs. Girls were in possession of many talents; one included making boneless meat hard. Her fingers traveled along the engorged mass in a single path until they each met at the end—at the tip of his cock. She looked up at him—it was fun seeing him feeble for once. She pressed her thumb and index fingers together with him in the center–around his tip–and her insides pulsed when he panted.

She released her grip–then squeezed gently–then crafted a flowing rhythm between the two motions that made his cock push upward against his briefs that dared to tear through the fabric. He couldn't hide his breathing nor lust—growing more wild the longer she toyed with him.

She stopped and Illumi looked down at her. "Apologize." She didn't forget their earlier conversation.

Intoxicated by her, silence was his answer. His eyes, dark and deep, were unwilling to relent. How willing he was to throw himself in the wrath of her defiance.

Psyche considered herself to be fair. She knew when to stop giving second chances as she grabbed the waistline of his briefs and opened her mouth. She warned him. Now it was time to punish him.

What's worse than two assassins? Two insanely horny assassins that both put the ass in assassins-*coughs over bad joke* THANK YOU FOR READING CHAPTER 8 :D Soooooo, what did you think? I feel embarrassed asking this lkdfglksfg

What's wrong, dear Psyche? Illumi is acting differently from how you remembered him? Surely, it's bc of the hunter exam, the nerves, the jitters, and all that jazz. There is nothing to worry about...nothing at all...go back to the wedding reception and eat your cake haha... :D Illumi is a HORRIBLE tease, still being a dick, and he likes making Psyche suffer, in his own way hehe :D What's gonna happen next? Because your guess is as good as mine ( ͡° ᴥ ͡°) JK Get wrecked Illumi- Also, according to the canon timeline, the hunter exam happens in January so i will be writing Padokea as if it is winter there (present timeline.) Aside from all the nsfw goodies, i want to write about the changing seasons. Also, meet Psyche's newest shadow, Willow the fox! I have so much planned around her nen abilities and i hope you'll like them just as much as i enjoy writing them.

Thank you for reading and I hoped you liked the chapter! Please review and bye!