"Lilitha, you're a pet."

"No, no! Lilitha won't be a pet!"

"You keep calling me master. Aren't you a pet?"

"I just won't be a pet!"

Rogue and Lilitha argued, but outsiders would find their dispute strange.

The man fumbled with his clumsy Dragon Tongue each time he spoke.

The Young Dragon Princess in the wooden tub looked timid and scared, yet her words were defiant.

They glared at each other, neither yielding.

Rogue clicked his tongue.

Before, Lilitha’s defiance would’ve earned punishment.

But now, forcing her to admit it was useless.

She had to accept being a pet willingly.

That’s why Rogue insisted she understood her identity.

Only then would handing her to Aria later go smoothly.

Rogue’s face grew impatient. His voice rose.

"Me, master. Lilitha, you pet!"

Lilitha flinched at his shout.

She shrank deep into the tub’s water.

Her plump dragon tail curled underwater—a clear sign of fear.

Would she be beaten?

Mistakes meant beatings, right?

Lilitha blew bubbles on the surface, then shook her head at Rogue.

Would she rather suffer punishment than accept being a pet?

Rogue chuckled softly, showing disappointment.

He didn’t strike her.

He shook his head in clear resignation.

"Then I’ll leave?"

It was a rhetorical question, but Rogue moved fast.

He draped the bathing towel over the tub’s edge.

He stood, grabbing the nearby bread and jam.

His expression and actions said it all: since she refused, he wouldn’t return.

Rogue lifted a foot.

The warehouse’s magic vanished instantly.

His foot hit the floor—a thunderclap echoed.

Wind and rain roared louder, sweeping in from the door.

One step. Two steps... Rogue didn’t glance back.

Lilitha panicked. She stood instinctively.

She felt this man would never return once he left.

What then?

Endless darkness and cold. No warmth. No light.

Another person would come—back to torture, beatings, being treated like trash.

Her subconscious screamed: she didn’t want to lose him.

Especially his disappointed look—it hurt worse than any beating.

"I could endure darkness until I saw light."

This fit Lilitha perfectly.

From happy Dragon Isle, she’d been injured, enslaved.

In endless darkness, she’d prayed for her father—no rescue came.

Only violence remained. Human violence. Slave violence.

Biographical novels lied. No "prince" among slaves would sacrifice for her.

"Don’t!"

Lilitha blurted it out, eyes locked on Rogue’s back.

She rushed forward two steps.

Silver light shimmered around her.

She crashed into the tub—it toppled with her to the floor.

The light faded as pain hit.

Lilitha ignored it. She ran toward Rogue.

"What is this feeling? Seems I’m starting to enjoy raising her," Rogue murmured, lips curving slightly.

He slowed his steps.

The door, so close, felt infinitely far.

Thump!

A small body crashed behind him, clinging tightly to his leg.

"Don’t go!"

Lilitha’s voice was frantic. Her face pressed against his pants.

Her voice rose sharply. "Master! Master! Master! Master!"

She shouted it in Dragon Tongue.

She surrendered. "Master... don’t abandon me... please. I’ll be good!"

Her voice choked with real tears.

After her father left, in that darkness, who brought her light?

Who could she rely on?

How could she not understand?

Pet or not—please don’t leave me alone. I can’t return to that pain.

Rogue was the straw a drowning person clutches.

Lilitha held it to hover on death’s edge. Lose it, and she’d sink.

In panic, subconscious truths surface—truer than rational thoughts.

Rogue stopped. He glanced down at Lilitha.

Their eyes met. His expression relaxed slightly.

He’d expected her to hold him back—but not this intensely.

Still, it was good.

Later, he’d explain outside rules. Strengthen their master-pet bond.

Then he could take her out of this warehouse.

"No crying," Rogue said in Dragon Tongue.

Lilitha swallowed hard, forcing her sobs to stop.

But she clung to his leg, grip unyielding.

Her strength was immense—Rogue struggled to move.

This wasn’t a human girl. She was a dragon. Unconscious power wasn’t a joke.

"Master... Lilitha is a pet. Your pet. Please don’t leave me." She sniffled, voice trembling.

Rogue’s expression softened. "Alright. I won’t leave."

Lilitha’s tense body relaxed at his words.

Rogue crouched, wiping her tears and snot.

"Disobey later, and I’ll leave."

"Mhm! Mhm! Mhm!" Lilitha nodded vigorously.

Then she crawled down before him.

She turned her back, little butt slightly raised—asking for punishment.

After the scare, no punishment would leave her uneasy.

But Rogue wasn’t thinking of punishment.

He wondered: should he give Lilitha clothes to cover herself?

For over half a month, he’d kept her unclothed.

Physical contact built closeness.

It taught her her body wasn’t hers alone.

As a pet, everything belonged to her owner—Rogue.

Including her body.

The goal was achieved.

Time to adjust his raising strategy...