Chapter 222: Chapter : 222: Beneath the Masks!

Applause followed. Polite. Eager.

Aiden leaned back slightly, eyes lifting.

“Tonight,” the Host continued, “we gather as we always do—to appreciate rarity, to indulge desire, and to acquire that which cannot be found in polite society.”

Soft laughter rippled through the crowd.

“But,” the Host added, voice dropping just a touch, “this evening is… special.”

The lights dimmed another fraction.

“Tonight’s collection includes items of exceptional provenance. Living treasures. Creatures who will never again walk freely beneath the sun unless you decide they may.”

A pause.

Long enough to let anticipation coil.

“And for our most esteemed patrons,” the Host said with a flourish, “there will be private offerings—exclusive viewings, bespoke arrangements, and opportunities that will not be repeated.”

The music swelled again, slow and indulgent.

“Relax. Observe. Bid boldly.”

He bowed.

“The auction begins shortly.”

Applause rose louder this time.

Aiden exhaled through his nose.

Aiden let his gaze drift.

Not sharply. Not accusingly.

Just… observant.

From where he sat, the auction hall spread out like a living organism—balconies layered in concentric rings, velvet-draped alcoves glowing beneath stained glass lanterns, the air thick with incense and indulgence. Music hummed low beneath it all, slow strings and a pulsing rhythm that sank into the chest rather than lifted the spirit.

Every face was hidden.

Masks of gold, porcelain, lacquered bone. Feathered. Horned. Jewel-studded. Smiling. Sneering.

And almost every one of them had something at their side.

Slaves.

Pets.

Possessions.

Aiden’s jaw tightened—not enough for anyone to notice, but enough that Luna felt it through his arm.

A masked noble stroked the hair of a demon girl kneeling between his boots, fingers lazy and absentminded, as if she were furniture that happened to breathe. Her eyes were dull. Her collar glowed faintly with runes that pulsed in time with her heartbeat.

Across the hall, a pair of women laughed as a horned demon stood behind them, wrists bound in silk cord, posture rigid. One of the women reached back and tugged the chain at the demon’s throat, not to move him—just to remind him it was there.

Aiden looked away.

Slowly.

Controlled.

This place didn’t need anger. It needed patience.

“Extra special,” Nyxion muttered dryly from across the seating circle. “They say that every time they want to justify being worse.”

Selvara crossed her arms beneath her chest, shoulders rigid. “I am counting breaths,” she said flatly. “Not mine.”

Valeforia had leaned closer—to Xylendra.

Far closer.

Her voice slipped into Xylendra’s ear like warm silk, low and deliberate, lips so near they brushed the shell of her ear with every word.

“You know,” she murmured, breath hot against sensitive skin, “that dress is absolutely unfair.”

Xylendra stiffened instantly, tail flicking once beneath her skirt in agitation.

“Va-Chan,” she hissed under her breath, cheeks already warming beneath her sapphire mask. “Not here.”

Valeforia’s smile widened behind her violet mask. She shifted just enough that her thigh pressed fully against Xylendra’s—slow, deliberate, the contact sending a visible shiver up the fox-girl’s spine.

“Why not?” Valeforia purred. “Everyone’s wearing masks. No one knows who we are. And even if they did… would you really care if they saw me looking at you like this?”

“That’s not the point,” Xylendra whispered furiously, trying to keep her voice low. “This place is—”

“—full of people pretending not to stare?” Valeforia finished softly, eyes gleaming with mischief behind the mask. “Yes. Exactly.”

She leaned in again, voice dropping to an intimate whisper that only Xylendra could hear.

“You look dangerous tonight. Confident. Beautiful. That sapphire dress clings to you like it was painted on—every curve, every dip, every soft place. Your breasts are practically begging to be touched—full, heavy, swaying just enough every time you breathe to make me lose focus. And those hips…”

Valeforia’s hand drifted—barely grazing the swell of Xylendra’s hip through the silk.

“…they flare so perfectly. Wide. Plush. Made for hands to grip. Made for someone to pull you back against them and—”

Xylendra’s breath hitched audibly.

“Va-Chan—stop.”

But her voice cracked—half protest, half plea.

Valeforia chuckled—low, dark, delighted.

“I can’t,” she admitted, voice husky now. “I literally can’t stop myself. I look at you and my hands itch. My mouth waters. I don’t understand how our husband is in control right now. How he’s sitting there so calm when all I want to do is drag you into one of those alcoves, hike that dress up, and bury my face between those gorgeous thighs until you’re screaming my name loud enough for the whole auction to hear.”

Xylendra’s thighs clenched together beneath her skirt—visible even through the fabric.

Her breathing had gone shallow, chest rising and falling faster, breasts straining against the tight bodice of her sapphire gown.

“You’re impossible,” she whispered, voice trembling.

Valeforia’s lips brushed her ear again—deliberately.

“And you’re irresistible,” she countered. “Tell me you don’t want it. Tell me you don’t want my tongue on you right now, teasing that pretty little clit while Saviour fucks me from behind.”

Xylendra whimpered—soft, involuntary.

Her tail curled tightly around her own leg beneath the seat, trying to hide how badly she was trembling.

“I don’t want you to do it here,” Xylendra corrected, flustered.

Valeforia’s tone turned playful. “Then where?”

Xylendra’s blush deepened. “Later.”

“Ah,” Valeforia purred. “So there is a later.”

Aiden cleared his throat.

Softly.

Deliberately.

Valeforia froze for half a second—then turned her masked face toward him, utterly unrepentant.

“Yes, Saviour?” she asked sweetly, voice dripping innocence despite the flush on her cheeks and the way her own breasts rose and fell a little faster now.

His eyes flicked to her—amused, warning, and very aware.

“Careful,” he said quietly. “Keep talking like that and you’ll be my first problem to deal with when we get home.”

Valeforia’s breath caught—just slightly.

“Problem?” she echoed, eyes bright behind the violet mask. “That sounds ominous.”

He leaned closer—voice low enough that only those nearest could hear.

“I’ll make you regret teasing her in public.”

Valeforia smiled.

Slow. Wicked.

“You promise?” she asked, voice husky again.

Aiden didn’t answer with words.

Instead, his hand slid to Luna’s hip—fingers firm, possessive—squeezing just enough to make a surprised yelp escape her.

“M-Master!” Luna hissed, flushing instantly beneath her crimson mask. “Not fair!”

“That,” Aiden said calmly, releasing her, “is your answer.”

Valeforia laughed softly—satisfied, aroused, delighted.

“I’ll hold you to it.”

Xylendra buried her face in her hands—mask and all.

“I cannot believe you two,” she mumbled, voice muffled and mortified.

Nyxion smirked from her seat, crossing her legs with deliberate slowness—breasts shifting heavily beneath her plunging gown.

“You absolutely can,” she purred. “And you absolutely love it.”

Xylendra peeked through her fingers—cheeks burning beneath her mask.

“…Shut up.”

He looked at Xylendra—softening instantly.

“You okay?”

Xylendra nodded quickly—face still buried in her hands.

“Y-Yes… Saviour.”

He reached over—gentle—tilting her chin up with two fingers until she met his gaze.

“You don’t have to be embarrassed,” he said softly.

Xylendra swallowed—eyes shining behind her mask.

“I know,” she whispered. “I just… She is just…”

Aiden smiled—warm, reassuring.

“I know. And it’s okay.”

He released her chin, then squeezed her knee once—gentle, grounding.

Valeforia watched the exchange with a soft, almost fond expression.

Then she leaned in—kissing Xylendra’s cheek.

“Later,” she promised again. “I’ll make it worth the wait.”

Xylendra shivered.

Aiden cleared his throat again—louder this time.

“Focus,” he reminded them both.

Valeforia straightened—still smirking.

“Yes, saviour.”

Selvara leaned forward slightly from her seat across the low table, her black silk gown shifting with the motion—deep V-neck exposing the inner curves of her pale breasts as they rose and fell with her quickened breath.

She tilted her head toward Aiden, voice low but carrying that familiar tsundere edge—half accusation, half curiosity.

“This… this is like how we saved Xylendra, Valeforia, and Aethoniel, isn’t it?”

Aiden met her gaze steadily through his own matte black mask.

He nodded once.

“Yes.”

Selvara’s lips parted slightly—then pressed into a thin line.

“So the System told you… you’ll get another bonded beast here tonight.”

It wasn’t a question.

Aiden exhaled softly through his nose.

“It did.”

Before anyone else could respond, Luna—curled against his left side, happily nibbling on a small honey-glazed pastry—suddenly froze mid-bite.

Her fluffy tail stilled.

She turned her masked face toward him slowly, crimson cat-eye mask doing nothing to hide the cute pout forming beneath it.

Her eyes narrowed. “You mean… a new wife for you.”

Her voice was small, indignant, and unmistakably sulky.

Aiden’s lips curved.

He leaned in—close enough that their noses touched—smirking softly.

“You’re so cute when you’re jealous, little wolf.”

Luna’s cheeks puffed out even more.

She huffed—then deliberately pressed the half-eaten pastry against his lips.

Aiden opened without hesitation—taking the sweet bite directly from her fingers, tongue brushing her skin just enough to make her ears (hidden but still twitching beneath glamour) flick in surprise.

He chewed slowly, eyes never leaving hers.

“Delicious,” he murmured.

Luna’s pout deepened—but the tips of her ears would have been bright red if they were visible.

Nayla—lounging gracefully, legs crossed so the high slits of her jet-black dress exposed long thighs—giggled softly, breasts shifting heavily beneath the plunging dress that barely contained them.

“You two are so cute,” she purred, voice dripping with amusement.

“Look at her—pouting like a puppy who just found out she has to share her favorite toy.”

Luna shot her a glare that would have been fiercer without the mask hiding half her expression.

“I’m not pouting!”

“You absolutely are,” Nayla teased, leaning closer.

“And it’s adorable. Don’t worry, puppy—I’m sure the new one will know her place. Right at the bottom of the pile.”

Thristle—seated nearby, arms folded tightly beneath her generous chest so the emerald dress strained even harder across her breasts—snorted.

“I’m jealous,” she announced flatly, though her tone carried a playful edge. “New wife already? And here I thought I was next in line for having kids.”

Lysandra—poised and elegant even in her deep crimson gown—smiled softly from her seat, the silk clinging lovingly to the full curves of her breasts and hips.

“I hope the children aren’t troubling Edda too much,” she said quietly, voice warm with maternal concern.

Aiden reached across the table and squeezed her hand once—gentle, reassuring.

“Edda’s experienced with this kind of thing,” he said.

“A few extra kids for an evening? She’ll have them baking cookies and telling bedtime stories before midnight.”

Lysandra’s shoulders relaxed visibly.

“Thank you,” she murmured.

Venya bounced slightly in her seat—boobs jiggling noticeably with the motion.

“Venya thinks new wife will be fun!” she chirped. “Maybe she likes snacks too!”

Aethoniel nodded shyly. “Y-Yes… more family is… good.”

Xylendra fidgeted beside Valeforia, still flushed from earlier teasing.

“I-I just hope she’s nice…” she mumbled.

Valeforia smirked, leaning close again—breasts pressing against Xylendra’s arm.

“Oh, I’m sure she’ll be very nice,” she purred.

“Especially once Saviour gets his hands on her.”

Xylendra squeaked—face disappearing behind her hands again.

“Va-Chan!”

Nyxion laughed softly—legs recrossing so the slits of her black gown parted fully, exposing long thighs.

“Look at all of you getting worked up over one new girl,” she teased.

“Relax. There’s enough Heart Lord to go around. I should know—I’ve tested the theory thoroughly.”

Selvara rolled her eyes—though her own cheeks were faintly pink beneath her mask.

“You’re all ridiculous.”

Luna—now smiling—pressed another piece of pastry against Aiden’s lips.

He took it obediently—then leaned in and kissed her cheek.

“Still my favorite wolf,” he murmured.

Luna’s tail would have wagged if it were visible.

The Host’s voice suddenly rang out again—smooth, commanding, cutting through the low hum of conversation.

“Ladies and gentlemen…”

The lights dimmed further.

The music softened to a slow, throbbing pulse.

“The auction… begins now.”

A hush fell over the hall.

Aiden’s hand tightened briefly on Luna’s and Seraphina’s thigh—grounding, possessive.

“Here we go,” he said quietly.

The heavy velvet curtain at the back of the stage began to rise.

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END OF Chapter : 222 : BENEATH THE MASKS!

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