chapter 8

"No, no, no!" Sebastian quickly stopped Emma. "Ms. Emma Tibarn, here's the situation. His Majesty currently needs mental comfort. We hope that during these three months, you will provide comfort for His Majesty. Once his mental power stabilizes, you can then apply for the match dissolution."

What the hell? He doesn't want me, but he wants me to work for free?

Emma stayed silent.

So what if Drake was tall and scary-looking—did that give him the right to boss her around like some servant? Did she look cheap to him?

Just yesterday, that blond—Adam—had asked for a match dissolution and handed her 50 beast cores plus 5 million star coins on top of it.

Sebastian noticed her sour expression and hurried to explain further. "Ms. Emma Tibarn, we don't expect you to work for nothing. We will compensate you. How many star coins for each session of mental comfort? Name your price."

Not every female could provide mental comfort to a male Etherian. Only a lady matched through the Beastmate System could provide mental comfort to her match. Otherwise, they'd have gone looking for a high-rank female already.

Emma glanced at Sebastian's kindly, grandfatherly smile, then at Drake lounging on the couch.

She didn't want to do this. But the man was too powerful; saying no didn't feel like an option.

Grinding her teeth, she held out a hand. "Fine, I'll do it. But you'll need to pay me five—"

"Fifty million star coins per session. Deal," Sebastian replied without hesitation.

Emma froze. The "million" that was about to leave her lips died right there.

Folks, it isn't that I'm trying to scam them—they are the ones overpaying.

Still, she laid down the conditions. "I'll do it. But I don't know what rank His Majesty is. I'm only Rank 4, so I'm not sure my mental comfort will work on him. If you don't mind, I'll try it now. If it works, we'll continue as you said. If it doesn't, I won't take any star coins and will immediately apply for match dissolution."

She wasn't about to take money without delivering results.

Sebastian nodded, pleased.

What a kindhearted Ms. Emma Tibarn. Willing to help His Majesty for just a bit of star coins. If only His Majesty could see her value—perhaps she'd make a fine lady for him after all.

Emma had no idea that she'd just left a good impression.

Sebastian and the other subordinate stepped aside, moving into the courtyard.

Emma walked up to Drake, who still lounged lazily on the couch, and asked stiffly, "Are you ready? I'm going to begin the mental comfort session now."

There were two ways to provide mental comfort. The first was to let her mental power enter his mind and calm his turbulent mental power. The second was through intimacy—allowing the female's mental power to entwine with the male's, releasing all his turbulent mental power.

In theory, the second method was far more effective and could permanently remove the risk of collapse, but that was only allowed after formally bonding. So for now, Emma could only use the first method.

She lifted her hand and pressed her fingertips lightly to Drake's brow. Gentle waves of her mental power seeped out, slowly entering his mental consciousness.

Inside Drake's mental consciousness, his mental power roared like molten magma—seething, exploding, every surge carrying destructive force. His mental consciousness was scorched, twisted out of shape. In this state, he lived as if submerged in lava, every second burned through flesh, nerves, and soul alike.

So this is the pain of mental power turbulence?

Emma had never seen anything like it. She had no idea what rank his ability was, only that his mental consciousness was terrifying beyond measure. She wasn't at all sure she could soothe it.

Her green mental power trickled into his raging mental consciousness like fireflies against a volcano. Each spark was like snow drifting down on a blazing summer day—threads of coolness spreading into the molten current, like mountain spring water wrapping around the heat.

Drake felt as if he were breaking free from the lava and plunging into an icy stream. The cold water enveloped him completely…

"Mm…" The sheer relief pulled an involuntary sigh from his lips.

In his mental consciousness, countless small whirlpools formed, ravenous, sucking down Emma's mental power at a terrifying rate.

Within five minutes, she was drained dry. Her face went pale, her energy spent, her body weak.

But she noticed his mental consciousness had calmed—the violent surges subdued. Looks like it worked, she thought, though she could no longer continue.

Exhaling shakily, she lifted her hand from his forehead—only for him to catch her wrist in his strong grip.

Drake opened his eyes, blue as the ocean, and stared into hers. "Continue."

It had been years since he'd felt such ease. As if his entire dragon body were soaking in cool water, every scale loosening, his whole being lighter than air. The sensation was intoxicating.

"I'm out of juice," Emma muttered weakly. "Sir, you sucked my mental power dry. I don't have a single drop left. If you want more, you'll have to wait until tomorrow."

Unlike ability, which could be restored by absorbing the energy from beast cores, mental power only returned with rest. Given the vastness and violence of Drake's mental consciousness, lasting five minutes had been a miracle. At least she hadn't collapsed instantly.

Emma pulled her wrist free from his hand. "I need to rest. Please make sure my payment gets transferred to my Lightcore star coin account. Thanks."

Without another glance, she staggered upstairs.

As soon as she left, Sebastian hurried back inside with the others. "Your Majesty, why did Ms. Emma Tibarn go upstairs? Has she finished comforting you?"

Drake leaned back on the couch, looking even more relaxed than before, his eyes half-lidded. "Mm."

Sebastian frowned, uneasy. "Your Majesty, how do you feel now?"

Was her mental comfort effective on him?

From Rank 1 to Rank 15—such was the Etherian scale. It was said that Rank 15 could rival the Beast God himself. Yet no Rank 15 Etherian had emerged in millions of years.

Currently, the strongest across the Interstellar Empire were four Rank 11s—one of them Drake, another the Wolf King of Frostveil, with the other two on the Central Planet.

By rights, a man of Drake's level shouldn't have been matched to a Rank 4 female. But the Beastmate System never erred. Sebastian had always believed this was the Beast God's will, which was why he had pushed Drake to try.

Drake opened his eyes a sliver, his gaze meeting Sebastian's anxious one. His voice was slow, lazy. "Never felt this relaxed in my life."

The sensation was so new, so liberating, it almost entranced him.