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Chapter Thirty-Six

The ornate lounge of the house bore witness to many a debate and argument, but today, it was the stage of a different type of contention. The plush Persian rug on the floor absorbed the echoing words as Evander vented out his mounting frustration.

"If you're going to protect me," he began, his voice echoing a blend of bitterness and defiance, "then I want to ensure you're all capable of it." His gaze flickered across the five women, challenging, pushing boundaries. It was a stance half taken in exasperation and half in an underlying need to assert his strength. Combat was an arena he knew all too well, and with his augmented abilities, he held an unprecedented edge.

Emma's retort came fast and fierce, like the swift swipe of a panther's claw. "So you're questioning our abilities now? Is that it, Evander?" Her sharp green eyes flashed with defiance, her locks falling across her eyes like a lioness's mane.

Evander arched an eyebrow, his lips curling into a smirk. He crossed his arms over his chest, the grey fabric of his shirt stretching over his muscles. "Let's just say I'd like to see for myself," he answered, his tone a masterful blend of provocation and calm.

As the tension between Emma and Evander reached a fever pitch, a ripple of concern washed over Seraphina's face. She had seen Evander in action, knew what he was capable of. His prowess was not to be underestimated, and she feared Emma was about to learn that the hard way.

"Emma," Seraphina began, her voice a soothing balm against the heated air. Her dark hair fell in a gentle wave over her shoulders as she shook her head, eyes wide with warning. "I've seen Evander fight... it's not something to be taken lightly."

But Emma was a force of nature, her spirit unyielding in the face of challenges. She shot a dismissive look at Seraphina before locking her gaze back onto Evander. "I can handle myself. I'm not some delicate flower, you know, like the man around here."

Evander could not help but chuckle at the fierce determination that radiated from Emma. She's brave, I'll give her that. He thought to himself, noting the ironclad resolve in her voice. But he also knew it was a confrontation that could prove enlightening, both for him and for Emma.

Evander's gaze roved over Emma's lithe frame. Her fiery spirit was evident, her determination blazing in her eyes. But beneath her confidence, he saw the slim build of her body, a stark contrast to his own muscular stature. "I don't want to hurt you," he stated, his voice a soft rumble that echoed his concern.

Emma's response was an incredulous snort, the corners of her mouth twitching in annoyance. "That's rich! I don't want to hurt you either, but unlike you, I'm not backing down." Her voice rang out in a clear challenge, cutting through the mounting tension in the room.

Amidst the escalating situation, the others, barring Seraphina, fluttered around nervously. Their brows furrowed in worry, torn between stepping in and letting the situation play out. Yet, their concern was for Evander, which was ironic, considering his superior abilities.

Despite their trepidations, the whole party moved out of the confines of their dome-shaped abode and onto the lush, open grass field that stretched around the house. Emma's confidence seemed to soar further in the outdoor setting. She assumed a stance reminiscent of judo, her slim body coiled and ready, a veneer of intense concentration etched on her face.

She’s adamant about this. Evander thought to himself. With a small sigh, he decided to let her make the first move, to allow her to understand the disparity in their strengths without causing her any harm.

No sooner had he settled into a defensive stance, Emma lunged at him. The air whooshed as her strike came fast and direct, but Evander was quicker. With fluid grace, he sidestepped her attack, his hand lightly touching her back to guide her downward. The thud of her hitting the ground echoed softly, followed by a low groan of surprise.

But Emma was not one to be deterred. She sprang back up, charging at him again. And once more, Evander calmly avoided her attacks, controlling the tempo of the fight while ensuring her safety. The scene repeated itself over and over - her attacking, him deflecting, and her landing on the ground, her resolve growing with each fall.

The final time, Evander used a foot to pin her gently to the ground, a clear message that the playful spar was over. As he stood over her, panting slightly, Seraphina let out a small laugh, her voice laced with amusement. "Well, Emma, you're lucky," she commented, a teasing glint in her eyes, "The last time he had me on the ground, he was on top of me."

Lying on the verdant carpet of grass, Emma grunted in reluctant acknowledgement, her defiant spirit finally quelled. Evander looked down at her with a light gleam of satisfaction in his eyes. His victory, however, was not about asserting dominance, but about making a point for their understanding.

"Alright," he began, his voice resounding in the quiet aftermath of their spar, "If you're going to insist on this idea of protecting me, there are some things you'll have to learn."

He straightened up and swept his gaze over the girls who had been watching their match, their expressions varying from relief to shock, their concern for Emma gradually easing away. With the sun above them casting a warm glow on their faces, he continued, "And remember, if things ever get too serious, back off and let me handle it. I don't want any of you to get hurt."

His words hung in the air, a testament to his genuine concern for them. His voice was laced with a hint of command but underneath it ran a stream of affection, a silent vow to their safety that moved them deeply.

He paused, letting his words sink in. His eyes met each of theirs in turn, his gaze soft yet determined. Their expressions shifted subtly, eyes widening slightly as they processed his words. Their gazes locked with his, mirroring the earnestness and deep understanding that was reflected in his own.

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Seraphina, the one who knew him best, had a warm smile playing on her lips, her eyes glowing with an unreadable light. Emma, still lying on the grass, was looking up at him with newfound respect, the previous arrogance wiped clean off her face. Amara’s eyes held a look of admiration, while Lily and Joy shared a silent glance, their faces reflecting surprise mixed with approval.

--

The hour was late, the moon hung high in the star-studded sky, washing the world with a tranquil silver glow. Evander sat in the sprawling lounge, ensconced in a plush armchair near the grandiose mahogany table that was strewn with multiple thin, translucent screens - the magical books from his recent shopping spree. The flickering blue light from the screens reflected off his keen eyes, giving them an otherworldly glow as he studied the arcane texts with meticulous concentration.

The rest of the house was quiet; the normal symphony of feminine chatter and movement had retreated into the sanctity of slumber, leaving him with the company of his thoughts and the rhythmic tick-tock of the antique grandfather clock in the corner.

Then, breaking the serenity of the night, the distant creak of a door reverberated through the silent house. He looked up, his gaze drifting towards the long, dimly lit hallway, curiosity piquing at the unexpected interruption.

From the depth of the shadows, a hesitant figure began to emerge. Slow, almost timid in her movements, the silhouette took shape as it approached, bathed in the soft moonlight that streamed in through the high windows.

Lily.

Her heart-shaped face was framed by soft, sandy brown hair that cascaded in gentle waves down to her mid-back. Her large hazel eyes, usually shy and often hidden behind long, curled lashes, were now wide with a nervous determination. But what made Evander's heart hitch was not just her midnight appearance, it was what she wore.

His breath hitched in his throat, his eyes widened a fraction. He couldn't help but stand up, transfixed by the sight before him. His heart began to drum an erratic rhythm against his ribs as he drank in the sight of her, the sensation foreign yet not unwelcome.

Clad in a silk nightgown, the soft fabric draped over her body, accentuating her graceful curves. The light from the moon and the magical screens played off the silk, creating a captivating shimmer that made her seem ethereal. She looked... beautiful.

His gaze lingered, unable to draw away from her. His throat felt dry, and for a moment, all his knowledge of arcane arts seemed trivial in comparison to the simple, mesmerizing sight of Lily moving towards him.

Am I... captivated? The thought echoed in his mind, his eyes still fixed on her. His usual composed demeanor slightly rattled.

Yet as she continued her shy approach, he couldn't help but notice the blush that dusted her cheeks, the nervous wring of her hands, and the delicate flutter of her lashes. It added to her allure, piquing his interest further. For in that moment, under the silver luminescence of the night, Lily was not just another woman in his life, but a captivating enigma that had managed to momentarily ensnare Evander.

Rousing himself from his trance-like stupor, Evander shook his head, trying to dispel the sudden surge of emotions that were unlike him. Striding towards Lily, his heart pounded in his chest, his usually composed mind clouded with an unsettling mix of concern and...attraction?

His fingers gently clasped her slender arm, the warmth of her skin seeping into his touch. A firm intent was etched on his face, ready to usher her back to her room, believing that her presence here was a result of some misguided attempt at... seduction?

Her face fell at his reaction, her eyes widening as if she had been slapped, a dismal expression cloaking her face as she turned on her heels, ready to retreat. But his words froze her in her tracks.

"Lily...this...this isn't a good idea."

She seemed to crumple at his words, her legs giving away beneath her. Instinctively, Evander reached out, his arms pulling her towards him. He quickly maneuvered her to the plush couch nearby, guiding her fall.

She collapsed onto the cushions, her expression still stricken with a kind of desperation Evander had never seen before. It stirred a feeling of concern within him.

"What is this about, Lily?" he asked, his voice softening. He looked at her, waiting for her to gather herself and explain.

With a deep sigh, Lily began, her words tumbling out in a rush, like a dam breaking. "My family...they...they are pressuring me. They want me to win your favor, to become the princess." Her voice trembled, her eyes filling with an unspeakable torment.

Evander frowned. "And they suggested you should...?"

Her face reddened even more, a strangled nod of affirmation was all she managed.

He leaned back, running a hand through his hair. This is... troublesome.

"It's not like I don’t want to...I mean...I just...I don't know what to do, Evander!" The desperate plea in her voice tugged at his heartstrings. "They told me what to do, how to act, what to wear... but I... I can't... I don't want to be something I'm not as I want to be myself with you."

Her admission hung in the air, a stark truth that left them both in a pensive silence. What a mess... Evander thought, racking his brain for a solution, for words that would ease her turmoil.

Evander sat there, a silence between them punctuated only by the soft sound of their breathing. She had fallen asleep, nestled against him, the tension that had plagued her face easing away in the realm of dreams. His arms had circled around her, almost instinctively, providing her a comforting presence, a safe haven in the midst of her storm.

His hands tightened their hold around her. A strange kind of warmth surged through him, foreign yet not entirely unpleasant. A surge of protectiveness washed over him, compelling him to guard her, shield her from the expectations and manipulation of the world outside.

It took him a moment to realize that he had been cradling Lily for a while now. Gently, he lifted her sleeping form in his arms, her head lolling against his chest. Her soft breaths fanned against his skin as he carried her through the silent house, his steps soft against the floor. He could feel the warmth of her body seeping into his, her tranquil face evoking an emotion he could not decipher.

Evander pushed open the door to Lily's room, stepping into the quiet sanctuary. The moonlight spilled in through the window, casting a soft glow on the room. He moved to her bed, easing her onto the plush mattress with a gentleness he didn't know he possessed. Tucking her under the soft blankets, he took one last look at her sleeping face, peaceful and innocent.

As he stepped out of the room, closing the door behind him, a thought nudged at the corner of his mind. He leaned against the wall, his brows furrowing in contemplation.

Are all of them under the same pressure? Are they too being manipulated? And what role do I play in this elaborate game?

He stared at the silent hallway, his thoughts spiraling down a road he had not traversed before. A newfound understanding of the weight each of these women carried dawned on him. And with it, a determination to be more than just a price to be won, but a friend and ally who could provide comfort and understanding, like he had for Lily.

His thoughts drifted back to the sleeping figure in the room. This is a mess, he thought.