Read Novel Full Chapter 1279: Mistake
Chapter 1279: Mistake
The kiss wasn’t practiced, not one bit. The amateurishness was evident. Nor was it seductive at its core, leaning heavily into innocence.
This wasn’t the kind of thing a worldly, multiple centuries-old elf would deliver after a lifetime of steamy, romantic encounters.
Kaelira kissed like someone who had never kissed anyone. An innocent schoolgirl finally gathering the bravery to do what she’d never done before.
But somehow, that just made it all the better.
Her cuteness was off the charts.
Her lips pressed to his in a straight line, firm and almost stiff, as if she feared the moment would vanish if she didn’t hold it tight enough.
There was no tilt of her head, no attempts at lewd tongue action, no search for rhythm.
Just a simple, feverish connection.
A blue-haired tomboy elf who had spent her life in the smithy and on the battlefield rather than in any man’s arms, gathering no experience in the art of love.
She was desperately pulling the man she trusted down with both hands and refusing to let go.
Quinlan steadied himself with a palm beside her pillow, then, as he let himself be pulled down properly, he leaned against the girl and moved his hands to stroke her unique hair.
Her eyes stayed open longer than they should’ve, focused on him with a glazed, dreamy look that had nothing to do with attempts at seduction and everything to do with the raw, shaky relief of being awake again. Only when she felt him settle did her lashes lower.
Quinlan smiled a quiet one. He didn’t deepen the kiss, didn’t shift it into anything more heated. He met her where she was. Soft. Patient. Returning the innocent press with the same gentleness she offered him.
Her breathing hitched. Not from desire, but from something simpler. Something small and vulnerable. Every second she held her lips against his seemed like she was finally learning what it meant to want something for herself.
Rosie zoomed around the room in rapid circles over the bed like a nosy little comet with her face squished between her palms as she searched for the optimal viewing angle.
"That’s how Mommy-kissing works... interesting technique..." Rosie mumbled, nodding to herself like some expert scholar witnessing a rare ritual.
Kaelira froze.
The kiss was still ongoing, her lips still pressed to Quinlan’s, but her eyes peeled open in a slow, dawning realization. She saw Rosie hovering next to her face. Then above her. Then under her. Then circling around like a wildlife photographer documenting a rare animal.
A beat passed.
Another.
Kaelira went beet red.
The flush surged to her long elven ears, then her neck, then the tips of her hair. She yanked herself back so fast she nearly bonked foreheads with Quinlan.
Both hands flew to her mouth, covering her lips as if she had just committed a forbidden act in a holy temple.
"I-I- I wasn’t- It just-!" she squeaked.
Then, mortified, she snatched the blanket and pulled it up to her chin, curling into it as if it were a barrier against the end of the world. Never mind that she wasn’t even naked. The blanket was now serving a spiritual purpose.
She sat up ramrod straight, clutching it, trembling with leftover emotion and fresh embarrassment.
Then she looked around.
Her stomach dropped.
Rosie wasn’t the only witness.
All her teammates were there, some seated on chairs nearby, others standing. But all of their eyes were sparkling with the same amount of excitement as the little dryad’s had.
It was as if they were watching the greatest theatre show in their whole lives.
But worst of all...
Kaelira’s gaze snapped to the far corner.
Ayame.
Standing still as a stone, leaning against the doorframe with arms crossed beneath her chest.
Expression unreadable.
Quinlan’s right hand. The second-in-command of the Ascendants. His wife. His partner in everything. The first woman he interacted with in the whole damned world.
Poker-faced. Silent. Statue-like.
Kaelira’s soul attempted to vacate her body.
Her hands tightened around the blanket until her knuckles whitened.
"I didn’t mean...! I wasn’t trying to-!!" she sputtered, sounding like someone trying to deny a crime while sitting next to the evidence with fingerprints and DNA evidence all over it.
Ayame blinked once, then the samurai woman leaned off the doorframe.
Her posture didn’t shift much at first. Her hands were still clasped before her chest. Shoulders relaxed. Expression blank. But the moment she stepped forward, the entire room seemed to hold its breath.
Her approach was slow and measured, deliberately, making the tension rise in the room. Kaelira felt it with every step.
The blanket tightened around her like it could protect her from divine judgment.
Ayame reached the bedside and stopped just close enough for Kaelira to feel the overwhelming pressure of her presence. She couldn’t believe that this girl, once the innocent Samurai-classed girl with humble levels, could emit such an immense aura.
Then, calmly, she brought a single finger to the elf’s own lips.
"All this stammering about mistakes. About take-backs."
Kaelira stopped breathing.
Ayame tilted her head to the side.
"Kaelira, your heart may lie in the smithy, but you didn’t earn your Runeweaver Titan class just by hammering metal. You are a warrior. Or so I believed."
Her tone sharpened, receiving a very strong edge. "I respected you for your fearless heart, your sacrificial nature, your stalwart judgment, your steady hand, your ability to make decisions without flinching."
Kaelira wilted under the words.
Ayame leaned a little closer.
"Yet you call this," she flicked her gaze toward Quinlan and back, "a mistake? Do you kiss people by accident now?" Her voice dropped a notch, turning cold and distant. "I didn’t know you were such a loose woman, Kaelira."
Kaelira’s eyes nearly popped out.
"I’m not a loose woman!!" she squeaked, horrified.
Ayame blinked once.
And then it happened.
Her cold mask finally took on a new form, changing into a grin that lacked both amusement and warmth.
A slow, wicked, almost sadistic grin that made even Shallan straighten up.
Kaelira froze solid.
Ayame slipped one hand behind Kaelira’s head, bringing her closer as she leaned in until her lips hovered beside the elf’s long ear.
"Well..." she whispered, voice velvet-smooth and merciless, "whether you are loose or not doesn’t matter now, I’m afraid."
Kaelira’s breath caught.
Ayame’s grin widened.
"It’s already too late. When it comes to the man you kissed, there are no take-backs. No denials. No pretending it didn’t happen."
Her breath brushed Kaelira’s cheek as she declared, "You’ve sealed your own fate."
Kaelira gulped. It was a sharp, audible sound.
Her head turned toward Quinlan in slow, robotic increments, as if she was afraid moving too fast would trigger a trap.
Quinlan met her gaze calmly.
Expression casual. Relaxed. As if the scene around him was just another evening in the stronghold.
But...
When Kaelira truly looked into his eyes... Into those deep, elemental layers beneath the surface...
Something inside her spine turned to water.
Predator.
Possessive.
Claiming.
Her breath thinned.
Her legs tightened together under the blanket.
Despite just waking from a long coma, Kaelira felt less like a patient being comforted and more like prey that had unknowingly stepped into a circle drawn by a hunter who’d already decided she belonged to him.
She had kissed the Devil.
And the Devil was looking at her like she had just offered herself up.
No escape.