A/N: As usual, I would recommend putting the video on loop.



Keeping her gaze slightly off of him, (f/n) bit her bottom lip. The male had cleaned her arm with some of the water from the constantly flowing stream before he massaged the salve into her arm. Every few moments, a soft moan of pleasure desired to escape her lips.



To be honest, she wasn't expecting this kind of treatment on her eighteenth birthday, but she wasn't complaining either. The worrying part was that she barely knew anything about this man. Forcing herself to speak, she questioned, "Tarhuinn, how were you able to whisper my name over all of those years?"



He kept working as he responded, "You're my chosen. For my kind, our chosens can hear us whispering their name in their heads. If I tried to do the same with someone other than my chosen, it wouldn't work. It's just part of my kind's magic."



"Do you mind explaining more to me about your kind and this chosen concept?"



Now wrapping up her right arm, he tied the bandages off before he hopped into the water and indicated for her to move over some. She did so, and he sat back on the bed. While he worked on her left arm, he mentioned, "There's a lot to know about my kind, and I cannot explain it all in one sitting."



"Well, what about ..." she stopped herself, not knowing if it would be rude to question him on that.



"What about? Please, do you continue your thought, (f/n)."



"Your voice," she finished. He halted his work and locked his gaze with hers. She flinched some and scooted away slightly from him. It was as if he dared her to go on and explain. Maybe, it was a topic not meant to be discussed, but, to be fair, he did ask for her to proceed.



"Does it not please you?" His dark blue orbs narrowed, and she felt slightly threatened under his sharp gaze. "If doesn't, I'll correct the problem."



This made her even more nervous. He made it sound like he could change his voice in a matter of seconds. Or, perhaps, fixing the issue had something to do with her. Whatever the case, she felt that she needed to say something soon, or something would go terribly wrong.



"No, it's not that. Your voice is very calming to listen to," she complimented, noting that his expression visibly relaxed. "I merely wished to know why it sounds so mesmerizing. I've never heard someone have such a voice before."



At this, he chuckled some. "I'm honored to hear such flattery, but it's just my regular voice." He let out a few more quiet laughs before tending to her left arm once more. Tarhuinn had pulled her closer to him again to be able to better work on it.



Something didn't add up with his statement, though. A few moments ago he mentioned that he could correct what was wrong. Could he train his voice that quickly? Or, would it have really meant that something would be done to her? Was it really his regular voice, or was there a deeper explanation behind it?



Her mind swirled with various theories, and she understood that she should've forced him to answer her questions before coming here. Then again, she was eager to get away from her parents and the maid. Before they had entered this area, she had asked him to wait, but he seemed to have kept urging her onward. He had mentioned that he wanted her out of the rain only to dive into a pool of water with her. In fact, she was still quite wet.



"There, your arms are all bandaged. You should get changed. A needle and thread are in the dresser if your clothes need to be adjusted."



His voice broke through her thoughts, and she merely nodded. "What about your clothes, though? Or, do you only have those?" she inquired, glancing over his black pants and black cloth shirt.



Another laugh escaped his lips. "If you look to left side of your bed, you'll see a drawer carved into the stone bed. That's where I keep my clothing items. Now, go change into some dry clothes."



Taking the bandages and salve, she hopped off the bed and onto the solid ground. As she made her way over to the dresser, she stopped and looked back to him. When he noted her gaze, he gave her a questioning gaze. "Is something wrong, (f/n)?"



"Well, you never answered my question about this chosen concept of yours," she muttered, noticing how before he had diverted her attention from it in a way.



"We'll discuss it tomorrow when I give you a tour of my home," he answered, his hands gripping at his shirt and pulling it off.



Instantly, she looked away from him, feeling her cheeks burning. He didn't expect her to change in front of him like that, did he? Well, there was that room behind the wooden door. She would just switch clothes in there. So, she went over to the dresser and opened the top drawer, finding undergarments and nightwear. Still, she wanted to know about this title as soon as possible, but if he did tell her tomorrow about this chosen term, she supposed that it would be alright.



She picked out a simple blue nightshirt and underwear along with a blue nightgown. (F/n) grabbed the thread and needle as well. Closing the drawer, she headed over to the closed off area and opened the door. A loud splash sounded, and she found herself in another pool of water. To her left was bench carved out of stone with a hole in the middle. A constant stream of water flowed down the slanted stone beneath the hole.



"(F/n), why are you changing in the restroom?"



Not looking back to him, she called out, "I'm not changing in front of you!"



"It's odd for you to change where the toilet is, though. Come on out, and I promise that I won't look."



Peeking over at him, she noted that he had already changed. She breathed a sigh of relief and stepped out of the room. After she closed the door, she pouted. "Well, turn away, then," she huffed out as she saw him smirk and roll his eyes.



With him facing away from her, she swiftly changed into the new clothes. They were somewhat loose, so she took the needle and thread and adjusted the clothes some. When completed, she put the thread and needle away before she held onto her old ones. "What should I do with these?"



He looked at her once again. "Set them on the ground, and we'll take them to the washing room tomorrow. Now, let's get some sleep. You look exhausted, my chosen."



There was that nickname again. Her legs felt weak once more, and she practically dropped the clothes to the ground. He held out his right hand, and she clasped her left hand around it. She almost fell into him, but he caught her and lifted her into his arms. Tarhuinn carried her to the bed and set her upon it.



Clutching at his beige nightshirt, she ended up leaning her head against his chest even as he placed her on the bed. Her cheeks burned, but she merely wished to rest against him. It didn't make sense since she hardly knew him, but her body had a mind of its own at the moment. Like earlier, that name had some sort of effect on her. Is that why he was pushing the explanation until tomorrow? Was he stalling?



Fingers combed through her while he whispered for her to rest in that enchanting voice of his. Her fingers grew slack, and she closed her eyes. Soon, she was fast asleep against him. The male noted her state and smirked. He picked her up again and walked to the right side of her bed. After he pulled back the sheets, he laid her down and tucked her in.



Twelve years had gone by, and he finally had her back. He ran his fingers through her soft locks and across her jaw line. Resting his right thumb on her lips, he gripped her chin with his other fingers. Tarhuinn moved his thumb down slightly and leaned forward. Her supple lips molded against his perfectly. If she were awake, it would've been more delightful.



Originally, he had planned to kiss her tomorrow, but he couldn't resist how tempting they looked. When he pulled away, he licked his lips and watched her shift some in her sleep. Forcing himself to look away, he walked around the room and blew out of the lanterns. Since he knew his way around well, he easily headed to his bed and lay down on the smooth stone.



Only having his eyelids closed for a few moments it seemed, he heard her move around on her bed more. He thought little of it until she rolled off and onto him. Startled, he opened his eyes and was relieved to see that her head had landed on his pillow. Her steady breathing and closed eyes told him that she was still asleep. A small smile stretched across his lips. "I'll let you sleep on my bed if you want," he whispered as he pulled her close to him and closed his eyes once more.



Tomorrow, he would explain her purpose to her, and she would accept. He would make sure that she would agree. After all, she was his chosen, and he loved her.