Chosen Mate Of The Beastmen Empire

Nyx was young, thrust into the grind early, stuck with a pimp like Dylan. Her views got skewed. He didn't want to take advantage anymore-just protect her, fix her outlook, keep her safe from creeps like him.

Nyx: [I know.]

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Her reply zipped back in a second, just two words. Seafarion's breathing hitched- he couldn't read her. He thought, 'If she knew, why'd she say that stuff yesterday?'

His mind wandered, scared it was wishful thinking. He stewed all day, too chicken to ask. Mustering every ounce of guts, he only managed a dinner invite.

Nyx said yes. It thrilled him more than a hundred-billion deal. He couldn't hide his giddiness; even the office noticed.

Too antsy to wait till evening, Seafarion ditched work early-a first-prepped dinner, fruits, desserts, snacks, and waited, jittery and excited.

With the boss gone, the company chat blew up with gossip, hounding Lancet to spill what was up. Lancet wouldn't dare snitch. Truth was, he had no clue either. Seafarion and Nyx's thing was getting weirder by the day.

He used to think he was an ace assistant-knew his boss's every move without a word. Now, he felt that Seafarion's heart was a mystery he couldn't figure out.

Right on time, Nyx showed up next door with fresh essential oil. A glance at the table, and she knew Seafarion had asked Gavin about her tastes. She didn't call it out.

Flashing a sweet smile, she said, "What a coincidence-these are my favorite."

Seafarion's handpicked chef was no slouch. Nyx ate happily, full and ready to drop her fork, when a piece of fish landed on her plate. She looked up at the male across from her-ears red, lashes fluttering nervously.

Nyx got it. He'd probably agonized all meal, wanting to serve her but overthinking it. Full or not, Nyx picked up the fish slowly and ate it.

"Thanks," she said, wiping her mouth with a napkin. "I like fish.”

The wipe cleared the grease, leaving her lips plump and red, locking the male's gaze. Seafarion tugged at his collar, Adam's apple bobbing.

They were stuffed and buzzed. Another willpower battle loomed. He dreaded screwing up, but he'd asked for it. He'd prepped as best he could.

Nyx noticed he'd layered loose shorts under his pants today and raised an eyebrow. A longtime partner turning shy always tickled her mischief. When the males took charge, she'd dodge. When they held back, she got eager.

She poured some oil on her hands, rubbing it in casual-like. It didn't matter what he wore. It was useless. After a grueling half-hour, Seafarion covered his eyes, accepting the grim truth.

A few slip-ups in front of Nyx, and the shame started fading. Once, twice, a few days of her dropping by, and Seafarion's nerves toughened up. He stopped hiding he was her neighbor-no more Lancet as a front. A quiet understanding settled between them.

No need to plan-Nyx came over nightly for dinner, massaged him, chatted, helped with work, used his bathroom, stashed her stuff in his place, crashed in his guest room. She crept into his space bit by bit. He couldn't resist didn't want to.

Two months later, the delayed costume drama Breaking Chains finally started shooting. Jobless Nyx got busy, heading to set. Filming was in Broskel. She could've gone home daily, but after thinking it over, she picked the crew's hotel.

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Marilyn and Helly tagged along. Gavin brought her three home-cooked meals daily around set breaks. Everything ran smoothly. First-time actress Nyx adapted quickly.

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Her role split into shadow guard and fallen princess-the guard got more scenes, tied tight to the lead, so they shot that first. The princess's solo bits waited till last.

Nyx wore a mask all day for fight scenes, crashed at the hotel after a rinse-still kept a steady routine.

Seafarion, though, hit withdrawal. First night alone, he lay awake, staring at the ceiling. Days of insomnia followed-he visibly wilted.

Office folks tiptoed, whispering to Lancet, "Boss get dumped or what?"

"Dumped?" Lancet blinked, lost. If his memory held, Seafarion hadn't even started dating-maybe a crush at best. Now, with his crush just off working, he'd run himself ragged.

Lancet was stunned but kept quiet, tossing out a tip. "Why not visit her on set?"

A week without Nyx, Seafarion was dying to see her. But showing up meant other actors spotting him—could tank Nyx's reputation.

"Not going," he said, eyes down. He could pay to hush it up, keep leaks tight, but the crew hung with Nyx daily. If they knew she was tangled with a wheelchair guy, they'd judge her, make her uneasy.

'Here we go again. Lancet grimaced inside, baffled by his boss's logic. He was crazy about Nyx, but never made a move- always lurking. If he chased like that, he'd never win his girl back in a million years.

"Well, how about asking her for a keepsake?" Solid ideas flopped, so Lancet went rogue with a dumb one. "Couldn't see her? Grab something to remind you of her!"

Seafarion's eyes flickered, lips pressing-he was tempted. He pulled out his phone, opened Nyx's chat, fingers hovering, stalling.

After ages of drafting, he sent: [Heard the hotel washers are nasty.]noveldrama

Nyx saw it during lunch break. Fresh off a scene, she washed up, sat to eat, and

checked her phone-shoulders shaking, laughing nonstop.

He was roundabout as hell, but she didn't need to guess what Seafarion was after.

Nyx: [Yeah.]

Nyx: [Little bunny sigh emoji]

Nyx: [Dirty or not, gotta use ‘em-what else can I do?]

As expected, he shot back: [Send them home-I'll wash them.]

Nyx: [Why bother when dry cleaning is easier? How can I make a tycoon do chores?]

Nyx ate and teased him, batting it back and forth before caving. Back at the hotel that night, she packed all her worn clothes and had Helly run them over to Seafarion.

Helly's jaw dropped. "Are you sure?" she stammered, staring at Nyx. "Let me wash them instead!"

Making Seafarion wash clothes was ridiculous. Everything was in there-even the close stuff. Nyx triple-checked it was fine. Helly set off, shaky.

Delivery went off without a hitch. Seafarion actually took the laundry pile-his quick grab even hinted at eagerness. Helly

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stumbled back to the hotel, dazed.

Nyx lounged on the sofa, rubbing in lotion. Fresh from a shower, her face glowed pink from the steam, her body misty.

Helly's eyes hit Nyx's long, sleek legs and suddenly got why Seafarion went for it. Her boss was fragrant head-to-toe-her worn clothes too. Not dirty at all.

"Back?" Nyx looked up, waved her over for fruit, and asked casually, "Drop-off go okay?"

Helly nodded, still puzzled, mumbling around a strawberry. "Can Seafarion even wash clothes?" A man that rich probably hadn't touched chores in forever.

"He can," Nyx said with a smile, finding Helly's innocence cute, not explaining much.

That night, Seafarion kept Nyx's clothes pile by his side and slept soundly for once. Waking up, he found his face buried in them, took a deep breath, then snapped awake, blushing as he folded them neatly.

Shirts, skirts, costume liners. His fingers snagged a bra strap. Seafarion froze, eyes wide, stunned. His face went blood-red.

Lancet dropped off breakfast and gawked-his boss was cleaning behind closed doors. Women's clothes hung on the balcony, fresh-washed. Scrubbing sounds came from the bathroom. Lancet's brain crashed.

Door opened, and Seafarion clutched the underwear behind his back fast. Frowning, he sidestepped Lancet, not hanging them outside but in his bedroom. "What are you doing?" Lancet asked, still not believing his eyes. Years as a life assistant, and he'd never pegged his boss as a house-husband type.

"Nyx sent her clothes over-I'm washing them," Seafarion said, in a good mood after solid sleep, giving Lancet an approving look for the idea. Seafarion was happy. His bonus was secured. Lancet took the cash, but it burned his hands. Sure, he asked Seafarion to ask for a gift from her, but he didn't mean her clothes. She didn't even gift him her clothes-she'd roped him into washing them.

Lancet's mouth twitched. He wanted to say hire someone-or he'd do it-but seeing his boss so into it, he shut up. If Seafarion didn't want to, no one could make him. Skipping maids and machines for hand-washing, Seafarion basically volunteered to be her servant.

*****

Batch done, Seafarion held onto them. Only when Helly brought the next week's load did he return the clean ones. Nyx's clothes in his place calmed him-like she was there, saving him from sleepless nights.

After sticking it out like that for a month and a half, Nyx had finished filming most of her scenes, with only one left-the part where the fallen princess took her own

life.

Before the final scene started, she gave Seafarion the good news ahead of time, then slipped into a long white dress for the shoot and headed to the makeup room

to get ready.

She'd been on set this long, but that was the first time she'd seriously gotten made up. After all, the earlier scenes didn't really need her face on camera-only in the last moment of revenge did she lift her mask for the lens, and even then, it was bare-faced.

The makeup artist was a chatterbox, all exaggerated expressions, babbling nonstop about how perfect Nyx's face was. "How's your skin this good! Even tone, too-you don't even need foundation! Your features don't need a thing. I almost don't know where to start!"

Nyx ducked her head, flustered, thanking her quietly, then closed her eyes as the artist brushed some light red shadow

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The crew was filming someone else's scene, so hers had to wait a bit-the booked wound, trying to find a spor so hang or but caught Joanna's eye again in the crowd. She dung to a middle-aged mals arm, way as could be, and thee Nyx a sharp glance,