He walked toward that patch of woods with an unknown emotion stirring within him. No one had actually told him where to look for anyone, but the fragrance in the air pointed him in the right direction—it belonged to Astarion, a cold, alluring, and dangerous scent.
Treading through the moonlight, he stepped into the silent woods. It was as if even the tiny insects had already drifted into sweet dreams by this moment; there was no one else around, only the two of them.
The pale Elf bathed in the moonlight, slowly stepping out from behind a tree. The moonbeams flowed over his bare skin, casting a gentle glow. His soft hair looked like fine silk satin, embellishing the enchanting night. When Astarion wore armor, he seemed rather slender, but that was far from the truth. His muscles were breathtakingly gorgeous—a lean physique, beautifully contoured muscles, a firm and toned six-pack, and those two enticing pink buds.
Chapter 48