Werewolf Hunting Rules.

Chapter 488 Conione's Lover
Don't capsize the boat, Clayton kept that bottom line in mind.

The wolf part also disappeared from him, leaving only a man and a woman in the cabin.

Despite being different, their bodies seemed to have been touched by the goddess of beauty.

Lydia sat cross-legged in the moonlight, her body bare, turning to smile at Clayton. The curves from the back of her neck to her back resembled the silhouette of mountains, soft yet powerful. She was far removed from the currently fashionable, narrow-chested, slender-hipped, delicate female image of Dorne. From the front, her full breasts lacked the ribs clearly visible even without inhaling, and her waist, while not particularly slender, possessed a beautiful curve. Her relaxed abdominal muscles bulged slightly, full of flesh, and her broad hips, along with her fingernails and toenails retaining a hint of wolfish shape, made her appear like a goddess who controlled fertility and war.

Clayton had broad shoulders and long, beautifully shaped arms. The muscles from his shoulders to his wrists bulged powerfully, and the strong muscles on his chest and abdomen were clearly visible through the fat layer. The muscles gradually narrowed from his chest down to his waist, forming an inverted triangle. This feature not only demonstrated his extraordinary strength but also preserved his exceptional agility and dexterity. Not to mention his powerful, thick thighs and sturdy calves, which were as strong as a stallion's. He was as majestic as a classical hero depicted in a work of art.

They remained peacefully in their shared blood, gazing intently at each other, their pale limbs soaked in crimson, the scent of each other in their blood more alluring than any aphrodisiac.

Clayton could sense Lydia's enthusiasm, as well as her awkwardness; this was information his sense of smell was telling him.

He pulled Lydia from the pool of blood and held her close to his chest, their bare chests pressed together. He then soothed her gently, his large, black-nailed hands massaging from her rounded shoulders to her ribs, and then her soft waist as if squeezing out the scent of lemons and oranges.

Only when Lydia gasped in his arms, gazing at him with her tender green eyes, did Clayton take her hand and gently help her lie back, before slowly entering the garden world behind the curtain.

During this process, they gazed at each other intently, unwilling to look away for even a moment.

“You really should join the clan.” After getting used to it, Lydia spoke, her right hand tightly gripping Clayton’s left wrist, which was propped up beside her. As she left a red handprint, the change in the grip of her slender fingers unintentionally conveyed a rhythmic sensory stimulation.

Clayton didn't reply, but just smiled and leaned down to stop her from continuing with these inappropriate topics with a kiss.

"Let's enjoy this moment to the fullest, Miss with the scent of musk and amber."

“Musk and amber? That’s my scent?” Lydia’s attention shifted. She chuckled, her long black hair spreading out in the blood, and her strong, white left arm reached out to wrap around Clayton’s neck. “Then you are saffron and pepper.”

Saffron and pepper are good too, Clayton thought.

The small boat rocked gently on the river, as if shrouded in unseen waves.

The rain is still falling.

The world is even more refreshing and beautiful after the rain.

It is said that the earth that supports all things is actually a huge sphere, rotating and revolving at an astonishing speed every second, yet it does not shake off the people and things on it. This is because there is a pulling force between all things, which is both huge and tiny, and is omnipresent. It has an invisible influence even in the most common phenomena of rain falling and clouds drifting.

Or perhaps it is due to the influence of gravity that clouds and rain appear.

The world seemed to turn upside down, and long, blood-stained black hair hung down, its ends scratching his face, releasing a rich fragrance while bringing Clayton a pleasurable tickling sensation. In a daze, the warm scenery of his hometown, Briga, inexplicably flashed through his mind.

The heavy rain lasted for several hours before it stopped.

The two werewolves snuggled together, admiring the moonlight, waiting for the river to carry the boat to the right place.

"I didn't expect you to be a virgin. I've never been with a virgin before, especially not in a small boat floating on this stinking river."

Despite the inappropriate timing, Clayton still spoke out.

Chastity is the ticket to marriage, and he had never considered marrying anyone in the past, therefore he had never slept with a virgin. He did not wish to ruin someone else's life for momentary pleasure, but today, he broke this principle because of that fatal attraction.

The lover in his arms looked up at him with interest, her right index finger tracing a circle on his left chest, as if in retaliation for the same action he had just performed on her:

"So, this counts as your first time."

Her bizarre statement made Clayton burst out laughing, and he nodded heavily, silently agreeing with it.

Lydia wasn't shy about these kinds of topics at all, just as bold as any country girl.

"You thought I wasn't a virgin before? Because I was too enthusiastic towards you?" she asked bluntly.

Clayton recalled his ancestor—Saga's sister.

"I mainly thought werewolves were more unrestrained."

“That impression isn’t wrong, but it’s from a human perspective.” Seeing Clayton’s puzzled look, Lydia laughed suddenly: “Ah, I forgot you’re a wolf. Didn’t we mention that before? You don’t know that common knowledge.”

Clayton raised his right hand to stroke her cheek: "Now explain it to me."

"To satisfy desires or to produce offspring, a werewolf may of course have relations with mortals. For example, my brother often spends the night with human women. But a werewolf can only have one true mate, and that mate will only be another werewolf, unless one dies. There is no need to consider whether being with mortals is moral. Morality only applies within the society of its own kind."

“You must have felt it too, right?” She touched his cheek, her fingertips stroking his beard. “Being with me feels different from being with those mortal women, because we are the same kind of people. I won’t be jealous of the women who have touched you. Human women can’t be my rivals.”

This is indeed the case.

The pleasure Clayton derived from his encounters with other lovers was far less than what Lydia gave him; he never imagined that scents and the very essence of their lives could also be part of the pleasure.

What humans call a curse, to them, is a very real soul.

"So we're now considered a couple in werewolf society?" Clayton felt a sense of unreality at the sudden marriage, along with the pressure. Dating is a matter between two people, but marriage involves two families.

The two sets of regulations are not comparable.

“Normally, yes. But you are an enemy of the clan, so this marriage will not be recognized by the clan and my father, and even I will be considered to have committed a grave mistake. Don’t look at me like that, this matter cannot be hidden at all, every werewolf can smell the change in me, and even if they can’t, I will not hide it from my father.”

Lydia suddenly turned her head and bit into Clayton's muscular chest, her white fangs sinking into flesh. Then she casually released her mouth, turning her head back to its original position, revealing four bleeding holes in her pectoral muscles that were slowly wriggling and healing.

"This is all your fault. I was going to leave, but you insisted I stay. You smell so good, how could I resist?"

Clayton lifted her right arm slightly, raised his right thumb, and rubbed it against the wound on her chest. This action wiped away the blood, leaving a patch of clean, pale skin, as if she had never been injured: "How can you say this is my fault? Even to fulfill the family's duty, you have to stay and fight me."

Lydia whispered, "Even if we're going to fight, let's find another place. Fighting on the water is too disadvantageous for me. If you throw me into the river, I'm finished."

Clayton understood again, and he chuckled.

"You grew up by the river but can't swim?"

"Because you grew up by the river, you practice swimming in such dirty water?" Lydia retorted, leaving Clayton speechless.

Environmental pollution was indeed a pressing problem for Wei Aodi, he thought to himself.

"How about leaving the council of elders?" Lydia asked again.

Clayton sighed, his right hand, which had been resting on Lydia's smooth shoulder, falling naturally to his sides. "I owe the elders a huge favor, and I don't plan to leave Sasha City anytime soon."

It was the elders who brought him and Donna out of Wonderland, and he couldn't forget that. Perhaps he would find a way to repay that favor later, but he hadn't done so yet.

Lydia sighed, "Well, there's nothing I can do then. It seems I'll have to be locked up for a while, then come out and kill some more people, and then marry someone else a few years later. But I'll always remember you."

Her tone was natural, but it carried a hidden threat.

Clayton was indeed at her mercy in this matter, and he couldn't accept it. His desire to possess her filled him with jealousy and even resentment towards Lydia's potential future fiancé.

He paused for a few seconds, then concluded:
"Maybe we should elope."

Such a heavy decision should not be made lightly, and locking in a future partner at this point seems too hasty. However, he has never been a man who is good at handling such situations, otherwise he would not always be around married women.

"you?"

Lydia laughed, her smooth back rubbing against his chest. "I would never abandon my clan for a scoundrel like you. They are my family, and I don't even know your name."

Clayton Bello.

“Clayton Bello.” Lydia’s voice trailed off, her expression losing some of its teasing tone. “Perhaps we really could be together, but it would be at least ten years from now. Do you have that kind of patience?”

“I do,” Clayton answered without hesitation. He had to worry about the future of his children, and ten years was just the right amount of time to settle Donna’s future. It was a perfect timeframe for him.

Even from a rational perspective, finding a female werewolf more suitable for marriage than Lydia would not be easy, and interracial marriage between humans would affect the difficulty of reproduction, as well as other trivial hardships.

Although he didn't fully understand Lydia's mind, the call of wolf blood was universal, and she had fundamental principles that made her much easier to understand than human women.

“But I’m quite worried about you,” he said bluntly. “Maybe in the future another werewolf will appear who can make you smell the fragrance, and make you forget me.”

As he said those words, Clayton realized he had become impulsive and hot-tempered.

In the past, he would never have agonized over such things.

He never envied married women's husbands when they made love, nor did he want to possess them forever. He also imagined that he might eventually have a marriage in name only, with both he and his wife keeping mistresses, which was very common in high society.

But he has now lost that composure.

Only the attraction between werewolves can explain this change.

After he questioned her, Lydia didn't get angry; instead, she laughed.

"You really are a wolf, haven't you noticed? We've already marked each other. Even without the marks, can a mouth that's eaten at a royal banquet still swallow wild vegetables?"

Clayton raised an eyebrow in surprise: "I don't know what else is special about me."

Lydia squinted, pressed her face against his chest, and breathed deeply. Her right hand slowly slid over the still unhealed wounds on his body, and she slightly opened her lips as if to inhale the mixed smell of blood.

"The blood of ten weaklings is not worth a single tear of a strongman, yet you are willing to step forward and make the strong bleed and weep."

This book remains without a female protagonist. Although Lydia has developed a special relationship with Clayton, she only appears in this volume and will not interfere with the plot development of subsequent volumes. Even if she is mentioned in later volumes, she will not take up a lot of space (less than 200 words per volume). Detailed cutscenes will only appear in the epilogue.