Goldenheart001

"When will you stop hunting your fellow beings? "Your mind has been poisoned, you are being fed lies, you have been bred to despise us, you know nothing about us, and you are all born as warriors to hunt us. We do bleed the same blood you shed.When are you going to wake up and realize that we are bleeding and dying while telling you that we won't use our power against you? and stop... stumbling... through the dark!"

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" ah, you commoner! My beloved people, you were made for battle, you were made to be warriors, and you were made to stand up for and save the weakest among us! We have been eradicating Alakijon the beast's tribe for thousands of years. They steal from and kill our people, using our blood to prolong their immortal souls and destroy our land. They are beasts; they killed our Mighty king and set us on fire. Our people are dying of retaliation. Wake up, people. "Prince Rogba said

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*** MATURE CONTENT***
warning


After the enchanting and lingering kiss, Prince Rogba leaned back slightly, their lips barely grazing. The steamy puffs of their breaths intertwined as her intoxicated eyes slowly opened. But before his radiant face could come into focus in her hazy vision, his tongue found its way back into her mouth. Another deep, impassioned kiss followed, raw and electrifying. He continued to explore, savor, and caress the depths of her mouth, as if he couldn't quench his thirst for her.

As he indulged in her lips, Arẹwa was overwhelmed by an indescribable pleasure, a sensation that threatened to consume her senses. A warmth, both fiery and sweet, started to swell within her breast, stomach, and between her thighs.

A gentle moan escaped her lips, and her trembling hands moved instinctively, resting delicately against his bare chest. A contented rumble emanated from Rogba's throat, and suddenly his mouth was on her jawline. He kissed and nibbled along her jaw, gradually tracing down the curve of her neck, tasting her as though she were something celestial. The pleasure was so intense that Arẹwa could only writhe in response.

The exquisite and fiery sensation coursing down her bosom intensified suddenly. When he sucked on the sensitive skin of her neck with fervor, she shivered, feeling as though electric currents were coursing through her entire body. Prince Rogba, unable to hold back any longer, slowly removed her dress, leaving her half-naked as they sank onto the bed.

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" come here.. come here... towards me Ida's clan heiress, your body is weak I didn't think you could complete this mission... look towards the darkness.. it's a spirit realms..go go in..." she said commanding
" no! no!! no!!! some one help!!!." Arẹwa call for helps

THE BEAST PEOPLE: Betrayal and Love  in the Shadows of War

The first rays of morning light painted the landscape as Ifafunto meticulously arranged an array of provisions. Determination etched on her face, she embarked on a journey up the mountain. Unbeknownst to her, Sewa followed, her steps cautious, curiosity evident in her eyes. Suspicion prickled at Sewa's senses as she observed Ifafunto's secretive actions.


Meanwhile, within the Ida clan's residence, the room was bathed in a soft, early glow. Prince Rogba lay nestled beside Arẹwa on her bed, both enveloped in peaceful slumber. Arẹwa stirred awake, urgency mingling with affection as she gently awakened the prince. "You must go... now... without being seen," she whispered urgently. Their tender moment was interrupted by the entrance of Arẹwa's elder sister, a commanding aura radiating from her. The demand for the stranger to reveal himself hung heavy in the air, the tension palpable.


Arẹwa's plea was a lifeline amidst the tension. Her sister's stern demeanor faltered, empathy breaking through as she led Prince Rogba away through a hidden path, successfully evading prying eyes and imminent danger.


While Ifafunto descended the mountain, Sewa seized the moment to enter the cave. Inside, an unexpected tableau greeted her—a young lady cradling an infant. Sewa's voice carried a mix of curiosity and concern as she inquired, "Who are you?" The lady's voice trembled in response, a plea for mercy and protection. Sewa's trained instincts alerted her to danger; a glinting sword blade materialized in the cave's shadows. With reflexes born of experience, Sewa deftly deflected the attack, a fluid movement of skill and precision.


Amidst the tension, the cave seemed to come alive with danger. Three assassins emerged, their intentions sinister. Sewa's determination solidified; she faced them head-on. Her movements were a dance of strategy and strength, every strike and parry executed with calculated precision. The clash of steel resonated through the cave as Sewa's combat prowess took center stage.


Yet, even the most skilled warrior had limits. As time wore on, fatigue began to chip away at Sewa's impeccable defense. Her breaths grew labored, her movements showing signs of weariness. The assassins saw their chance, moving in with calculated aggression. Sewa's resolve burned bright, but she was only human, pushed to her limits.


In a pivotal moment, Ifafunto's entrance injected renewed energy into the fray. Together, they formed an indomitable force, overwhelming the remaining assassins. The cave, once a place of shadows and danger, transformed into a haven of shared victory.


Amidst the ebb and flow of battle, the young lady and her child found safety within the arms of their newfound defenders. Sewa's chest heaved as her gaze met Ifafunto's, a silent understanding passing between them. The cave, now a sanctuary of triumph, witnessed the unspoken bond between two warriors.


just a sudden some assassin appears. a surge of adrenaline propelled both assassins into action. With unyielding determination, Sewa and Ifafunto swiftly grabbed the fallen swords that lay beside the lifeless body of their fallen opponent. The cold touch of the hilt sent shivers down their spines as they engaged in a fierce battle that would test their mettle like never before.


The swords met in a symphony of steel, the clash of blades reverberating through the air. Sewa's movements were fluid, her footwork graceful yet fierce, as she sought to maintain a balance between offense and defense. Ifafunto's style was marked by a controlled aggression, his strikes powerful and strategic, aimed at breaking through his opponent's defenses.


Chapter 33 assassin