At the phrase “human needs”, Luna’s cheeks blazed scarlet. A single memory struck her like a hammer, the mortifying instant when she had stood totally bare, every inch of her exposed to both Flaxseed and Jared.
“Since the two of you need some help with, well, men’s matters,” she whispered so softly the syllables almost died in her throat, “I can help you…”
Flaxseed’s pupils glittered like coins in lamplight.
“Really? Marvelous!” His excitement ballooned at once. “Jared, which of us goes first? Rock-paper-scissors? Winner takes the lead, loser waits outside and, I don’t know, scrubs the pans afterward?”
“Count me out,” Jared replied, shaking his head. He admired Luna’s looks, certainly, yet forcing desire on a woman went against every line he drew for himself.
He had shared more nights than he could easily count, but only with women who had stepped toward him of their own accord, some even insisting on dual cultivation for power’s sake while he remained a reluctant participant.
Flaxseed shrugged. “Suit yourself, then I won‘t be polite.”
Wiping a string of drool from his beard, he leered at Luna. “Ms. Linford, where shall we… Entertain ourselves? Pick someplace cozy.”
Luna blinked, then her blush deepened. “You… You have the wrong idea! When I said I’d help, I meant I’d summon two Linford maids. They’re beautiful, and untouched, if that puts your mind at ease!”
“Ah…” Flaxseed froze, realization dawning.
Sigh… She was not offering herself at all, only arranging company…
A heartbeat later, he recovered, smacking his palms together. “Fine by me! Since Jared refuses, I’ll take both maids, thanks kindly!”
Luna dipped her head. “Follow me then!”
She guided the two men back through the lantern-lit corridors of the Linford residence, summoned the butler, and soon delivered two wide-eyed maids to Flaxseed’s chamber for his diversion.
Moments later, shrill feminine cries burst through the wooden door, proof enough that Flaxseed’s pent-up energy was at last finding release.
Meanwhile, Jared remained inside the quiet guest room prepared for him, intending to rest until Flaxseed’s storm had passed, after which he planned to seek out the Sixth Hall.
The latch clicked. Luna stepped inside, finding Jared seated on the edge of the bed. “Mr. Chance, was it because my maids did not meet your standards that you chose to abstain?”
“No,” Jared said, giving a small, slow shake of his head. “I’m simply not interested.”
“You saved my life,” Luna murmured. “I ought to repay you. If maids hold no appeal, perhaps I can meet your need myself.”
Her fingers trembled as she loosened her sash. One sleeve slid from her shoulder, tears slipping free even as the silk fell.
Jared was handsome and young, nothing in him repulsed her, yet surrendering her body so vaguely, so suddenly, scraped against every private boundary she possessed. Still, he had pulled her back from death’s brink, and she could think of no richer gratitude than the only gift she fully owned.
“Luna, you misunderstand,” Jared said, voice low but firm. “That was never what I wanted…”
Jared sprang upright, urgency snapping through his limbs as he hurried to settle Luna’s discarded robe around her trembling shoulders.
Tears were already shining on her lashes. No matter how fierce the heat in his veins, he could never press a weeping woman for more.
Besides, desire was a luxury he did not lack. If it ever grew unbearable, he could always return to level seven, where hundreds of devoted disciples from the Herb Sect, led by the fiery Artemis, still waited to exhaust him again. After that recent ordeal, Jared doubted he would crave another encounter any time soon.
“Jared, do you think I’m… Ugly?” Luna’s voice quavered even as she forced a half-smile, unwilling to believe any man could resist a woman who had bared both heart and body for him.
“No, truly, no.” Jared’s words tripped over themselves. “I.. I’m the problem. My strength… Fails me…” Unable to confess the truth, he lied, claiming a wound that had stolen a man’s most private power.
“Then don’t despair,” Luna whispered after a stunned pause. “Perhaps the cultivation art you practice is blocking your vigor. Try another method, change your technique, and you’ll be fine again.”
Hope gleamed in her reddened eyes, as if he had handed her a lifeline.
