Lucas and Tracy turned at the same time.
Tracy's voice dropped to a nervous whisper. "Senior Valentine…"
The woman who approached them moved with the lazy, predatory grace of someone who owned every room she entered.
Valentine D'Aramont was a third-year student whose presence alone could silence a crowd.
Long, voluminous pinkish-purple hair spilled down her back in glossy waves, catching the light like liquid amethyst. Her sharp emerald-green eyes were framed by thick lashes, and her full lips curved into a knowing, slightly arrogant smile that promised both pleasure and trouble.
She wore a stylish plaid checkered dress that clung to her voluptuous figure like a second skin. The deep plunging neckline left little to the imagination, while the cinched waist and short hem accentuated her wide hips and long, toned legs. Black thigh-high boots with delicate lace detailing completed the look—elegant, expensive, and dangerously seductive.
Valentine stopped a few feet away, one hand resting lightly on her hip as she slowly looked Lucas up and down with open, unabashed interest.
"Well, well…" she purred, voice smooth and teasing. "It seems nothing here can catch our young master's eye. How disappointing for poor Tracy."
Tracy visibly shrank beside Lucas, her earlier enthusiasm evaporating into nervous deference.
Lucas, however, remained perfectly composed. His piercing blue eyes met Valentine's gaze without flinching, a faint, amused smirk tugging at his lips.
Valentine stepped closer, the tight dress shifting with every movement, every curve on full display. "So… the famous Mythic bastard himself graces the skill pavilion." Her tone was playful but laced with challenge. "Looking for something specific, or just browsing to see what the little people sell?"
"I'm just looking for skills, Senior," Lucas replied calmly, unreadable. "Why… are you interested in helping me find them?"
Valentine's lips curved into a slow, seductive smile. She tilted her head, letting her long pinkish-purple hair cascade over one shoulder like silk. "Umm… actually, I might," she purred, voice low and intimate. "There's a small private auction happening on the upper floors right now. What do you say? Dare to tag along with me?"
She leaned in just enough for her scent—something sweet and smoky—to brush over him. Her emerald eyes sparkled with challenge. "Do know… I bite~."
Lucas smirked, locking eyes with her. "Well, guess what… I do too."
For a brief, electric second, something raw and unspoken passed between them—two predators recognizing each other instantly. No masks. No pretense. Just the mutual understanding of exactly what the other was.
Tracy stood frozen beside Lucas, back drenched in cold sweat. What the hell are they even talking about…? Are they dogs or what…?
Valentine let out a soft, amused laugh and nodded. "Give me a minute. I'll be right back, handsome." She winked, then turned with a deliberate sway of her hips, the tight dress clinging to the generous curve of her ass as she walked away.
Lucas's gaze followed the motion for a moment before he shook his head with faint amusement. He turned to Tracy. "Do you know her?"
Tracy swallowed hard, still flustered. "Of course. Everyone does. Valentine D'Aramont. She owns 'Beastcry'—the pavilion that sells rare pets and tamed monsters." She hesitated. "And her boyfriend…"
Lucas raised an eyebrow. "And who's her boyfriend?"
Tracy lowered her voice to a nervous whisper. "Baron… Baron Ravencroft."
Lucas's smirk didn't waver. "Huh. Baron, don't tell me—"
Tracy nodded quickly. "Yes. The same Baron you're probably thinking of."
She expected him to back down. Messing with Baron's girlfriend was suicide—Baron was volatile, vindictive, and backed by his grandfather's terrifying influence.
Instead, Lucas let out a low chuckle that quickly grew into a genuine, loud laugh, drawing curious glances from nearby students. He wiped a tear from the corner of his eye, still grinning.
"I really like this university," he said, voice thick with dark delight.
He straightened, amusement still dancing in his eyes, and stepped forward—completely unbothered.
Earlier, Valentine had entered the Grand Pavilion with a small group of friends, her long pinkish-purple hair swaying with every confident step. They'd come to restock rare pet food for Beastcry, but the moment she crossed the threshold, her sharp emerald eyes locked onto Lucas near the skill section.
Even from a distance, his broad, sculpted build and striking features stood out. He leaned casually against the wall, arms folded, eyes closed as if the chaotic market didn't exist around him.
One friend leaned in and whispered, "That's the guy Baron was ranting about yesterday—the new Vanderbilt bastard who awakened a Mythic class."
Valentine's full lips curved into a slow, hungry smile. She licked them once, anticipation sparking hot in her chest.
Interesting…
Valentine D'Aramont took what she wanted, when she wanted it, without hesitation or apology.
She waved her friends off casually. "I have an important errand. Catch up later."
Then she moved toward Lucas like a wolf spotting prey.
Back in the present, Valentine reappeared moments later, her smile laced with teasing promise. "So, junior… ready to go?"
Lucas opened his eyes. For a split second, bewilderment flickered across his face as the Imp of Whispers breathed a single word into his mind:
"Chaos…"
Even the Imp couldn't fully read her. Her thoughts were turbulent, scattered, unpredictable. Lucas didn't mind. The unknown only made the game more exciting.
He pushed off the wall with a slow smile. "Yes. Let's go."
Tracy stood frozen, visibly disappointed—no sale meant no commission. Before she could turn away, Lucas tapped his bracelet against hers and transferred 1,000 merits.
Her eyes widened in shock and gratitude.
Lucas didn't say a word. He simply turned and walked beside Valentine toward the upper floors.
As they ascended, the atmosphere shifted. The upper levels of the Grand Pavilion were far more exclusive—private auction rooms, velvet ropes, heavy security. The moment Valentine appeared with an unfamiliar face at her side, whispers erupted.
Valentine glanced sideways at Lucas, expecting some reaction.
He walked carefree, completely unbothered.
She couldn't resist testing him. "So, junior… didn't you learn any skills from your family before coming here?"
"James Vanderbilt didn't want me learning any before mastering the basics," Lucas answered without hesitation. "So I couldn't."
Valentine raised an elegant eyebrow. "James, huh? Not 'Father'?"
Lucas's tone stayed even. "It's not easy. The word 'father' still feels unfamiliar."
Valentine hummed, intrigued. "I see… That's understandable. But I didn't expect you to answer so openly, junior Lucas. You surprise me."
Lucas turned his head, blue eyes meeting hers with shameless honesty. "Maybe I don't want to lie to a woman who could be mine soon."
Valentine laughed—a low, sultry sound that drew even more stares. Her emerald eyes burned with amusement and something darker, hungrier. "What if you become my slave instead, junior?" She leaned closer, voice dropping to a whisper. "Trust me… You could gain a lot of benefits by being my slave. You could even start by licking my foot…"
Lucas didn't miss a beat. "Oh, I don't mind licking it… If you return the favor by helping my little brother."
Valentine bit her lower lip, a rush of heat flooding her body. Her nipples tightened visibly against the thin fabric of her dress. She liked this—no filters, no games, just raw, open desire.
They reached the entrance to one of the luxurious private auction halls. Valentine led Lucas through a side corridor into her faction's exclusive viewing room.
The moment the door clicked shut behind them, the outside noise vanished, replaced by soft, intimate lighting and the faint hum of mana barriers.
The room was pure luxury: plush black leather couches arranged for the perfect view of the central auction stage below, floor-to-ceiling one-way glass, a low table with chilled wine and rare snacks, and warm golden accent lights that made the space feel more like a high-end lounge than an auction box.
Valentine closed the distance, the tight plaid dress hugging every curve as she turned, deliberately keeping her back to him. "This private room is reserved for my faction," she said softly. "So… what do you think, junior?"
Lucas walked slowly into the room, gaze sweeping over her figure with zero attempt to hide his appreciation. He stopped a few feet away, hands in his pockets, a dangerous smirk on his lips. "Very private. Almost makes me wonder what kind of trouble a woman like you gets into in a room like this."
Valentine laughed softly, a rich, throaty sound. She took one slow step backward until her full, rounded ass pressed firmly against the growing bulge in Lucas's trousers. A sharp jolt of heat shot through him.
"Oh?" she purred, tilting her head so her hair cascaded over one shoulder. "And what kind of trouble do you think I get into?" She ground back against him teasingly. "Careful, junior… I might start thinking you're interested in more than just the auction."
Lucas's eyes darkened with hunger. He gripped her waist and pulled her harder against him.
Valentine let out a low, breathy moan. "Ahhh…"
"Maybe I am," he said shamelessly. "After all, I don't waste time pretending. Especially not with someone who looks like she enjoys being looked at."
Valentine's breath hitched, but her smile only grew bolder. She could feel the thick, hard length of him throbbing against her ass, the heat of his body making her skin tingle.
"You're dangerous, Lucas Vanderbilt," she whispered, voice dripping with seduction. "Just so you know… I have a boyfriend. And he's not easy to deal with—especially not for you, since you two are cousins."
Lucas leaned down, lips brushing her ear as he lightly bit the sensitive skin there. Valentine arched into him with a soft gasp.
"Isn't that what makes it more exciting for you?" he murmured.
Below them, the auction began.
A male final-year student stepped onto the stage as auctioneer, voice amplified. "Welcome, honored guests, to tonight's private auction. All bids are final. No refunds."
"First item," he announced. "A Rare-grade 'Crimson Fury Slash' skill scroll—perfect for close-combat awakeners seeking explosive power."
Valentine's eyes stayed fixed on the stage, but her focus was entirely on the hard bulge pressed against her. She began moving her hips in slow, teasing circles, grinding back deliberately.
"Tell me, junior," she murmured, biting her lip. "If I told you I could make you my personal favorite… would you be tempted to misbehave with me right here?"
Lucas chuckled darkly. He slid one hand down from her waist, fingers slipping beneath the hem of her short skirt and brushing over the thin satin of her panties. She was already soaked.
"Tempted?" He tucked a strand of her pinkish-purple hair behind her ear, fingers grazing her skin. "I don't get tempted, Valentine. I take what I want."
Valentine moaned softly, legs weakening as heat flooded her core. Her nipples strained visibly against the dress. She had meant to toy with him—but Lucas was bolder than she expected, trying to dominate her, to make her lose control.
She knew exactly what he was doing… and she loved it.
A mischievous glint flashed in her eyes. She reached behind her, boldly palming the thick, heavy outline of his cock through his trousers. She gasped internally at the sheer size and weight.
Lucas sucked in a sharp breath.
Valentine laughed, low and sultry. "Daring now, are we? Calling your senior by name… my cheeky junior."
Lucas's smirk widened as his fingers pressed more firmly against her soaked panties. "Says the slut who gets this wet just from my touch," he whispered, calm and calculating.
Valentine's breath came in heated pants. She was about to push his hand further when the door to the private room suddenly opened.
Baron Ravencroft walked in with two of his lackeys, his hair combed back neatly, signature golden-black uniform immaculate. His eyes immediately locked onto the intimate position—Lucas's hand under Valentine's skirt, her ass pressed firmly against him.
A dangerous smile spread across Baron's face.
"It seems I came at the wrong time," he said, voice dripping with mock politeness.