So close, his hands were so close to Riven’s neck. One move and he could strangle this arrogant wolf.
"I can feel you fantasising about murder," Riven murmured, smirking. "Resist the urge. You’d only dig your grave deeper."
Leon said nothing, biting down on his pride as he adjusted his pressure once more. He slowly began to get the hang of it, fingers moving over the stiff muscles beneath Riven’s shirt. He hated how smug the wolf looked—tail wagging slightly, his soft ears flicking at every correction, obviously enjoying this far too much.
"Better," Riven said eventually, eyes closing as he sighed in satisfaction. "See? You’re already learning. Maybe you can be useful."
Leon glared daggers at the back of Riven’s head. His fingers worked along the upper spine, circling small knots with increasing skill, though in his mind, he imagined dozens of ways to sabotage the oga later. If only he could...
"You know," Riven added lazily, "you’d make a decent servant. Once you get over your superiority complex."
Leon’s hands paused briefly—he wanted to say sothing biting, sothing cruel, but he had no defense. He was, after all, massaging the very oga he’d kidnapped.
"I never took you for soone with magic hands," Riven teased, tail flicking over Leon’s leg deliberately. "But you’re doing alright."
Leon inhaled sharply through his nose, forcing himself not to react. This humiliation would pass. He just had to bide his ti.
Riven, anwhile, sat back with a satisfied hum, ears twitching as he stretched languidly.
"Alright," he said at last, grinning over his shoulder. "Now, tea. Chop-chop, your Highness."
Leon nearly growled again—but he turned wordlessly and moved toward the teapot like the obedient servant he was forced to be.
Leon returned stiffly, setting the teacup down with a loud clink that betrayed his rising irritation. Riven didn’t even flinch. He glanced at the cup, then at Leon with an exaggerated sigh.
"No honey?" he said, mock-offended. "You expect to drink this bitter?"
Leon’s jaw ticked. "You didn’t say—" He drank his tea without any kind of sweetener.
Riven clicked his tongue. "A competent attendant would know. Go on, be a dear."
Leon stord off, and Riven watched him go with a smirk playing on his lips. His tail flicked behind him, ears perked in amusent. He had no intention of going easy on Leon—at least, not until he got what he wanted.
When Leon returned with the honey, Riven deliberately held out his hand.
"Feed the honey," he said, fluttering his lashes in a parody of innocence.
Leon stared at him, blinking. "You have hands, you—"
"Oh, but I’m still recovering from being kidnapped," Riven said, clutching his chest dramatically. "My poor body is fragile. What if I lift a spoon and faint? You wouldn’t want that on your conscience, would you?"
Leon didn’t respond. He simply picked up the spoon and fed him with such chanical precision it might as well have been a punishnt. But Riven made it difficult—he licked the honey off the spoon slowly, lips lingering just a beat too long.
Leon’s eye twitched.
"Oh, you’re blushing," Riven cooed.
"I am not—"
"Next task," Riven cut him off cheerfully. "My hair’s a ss. Brush it."
Leon groaned. "What am I? Your maid?!"
"Wrong," Riven said smugly. "You’re my servant. Do keep up."
A hairbrush was fetched, and Riven turned around, waiting for Leon to start brushing his hair.
Riven’s hair grew a bit in these past few weeks, it covered his neck, so he brushed his ebony hair aside, revealing his neck.
Leon hesitated, then ran the brush through his hair with far more care than he’d like to admit.
"You’ve done this before," Riven said with a pleased sound.
"My sister," Leon muttered. "When she was little."
Riven chuckled. "So you do have a nurturing side. What a surprise."
The silence grew heavier, the brushing slowing. Riven’s tail flicked again, this ti brushing Leon’s arm purposefully.
He turned, eting Leon’s guarded eyes. "You’ll be here a while. Might as well learn to do everything I like."
Leon, jaw tight and pulse racing, realised that this was no longer just humiliation.
Riven leaned into the brush strokes with a soft sigh of contentnt, his wolf ears twitching when Leon hit a knot and carefully worked through it without tugging too hard. It was oddly soothing—both the brushing and Leon’s quiet, tense presence behind him.
"You said your sister," Riven said casually. "How many do you have?"
Leon imdiately stiffened. "None of your business."
"Co now," Riven humd, tilting his head back just enough to peer up at him. "We’re spending so much ti together, I feel like we should get to know each other. Bonding, you know?"
Leon grunted, resuming the brushing without comnt.
Riven’s smile sharpened. "I’m giving you an order, Leon."
That made Leon pause.
"You’re my servant, right?" Riven said, glancing at him sidelong. "As your master, I want to know. So, tell about your sisters."
Leon’s lips thinned. He was quiet for so long that Riven almost gave up pushing—until he heard the muttered response.
"Three."
Riven blinked. "Three sisters? You must’ve been spoiled."
"No, I was loved."
Riven blinked, "Go on."
Leon clenched his jaw. "They used to... Dress up. In frilly things. Said I was too pretty to waste on plain n’s clothes."
"Oh, I can’t wait to see the paintings that captured the mont!" Riven said with a teasing voice.
"Hah, if there were paintings, they would be burned by now." Leon scowled.
"Noooo," Riven whined dramatically, clutching his chest. "You’re telling I missed seeing you in ribbons and lace? Leon, that’s a cri."
Leon muttered sothing under his breath, still brushing.
Riven leaned back just enough to glance at him. "I bet you loved it, it made you look prettier, so of course you did!"
"I was five," Leon snapped. "I didn’t have a choice."
Riven grinned. "That doesn’t an you hated it. Were you the kind of kid who twirled in a mirror?"
He was.
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