Reincarnated Into A World Of Elves As The Only Man-Chapter 47: First TUNA

After his bath, Eren made his way toward Elena’s chamber. The corridors were eerily silent, the entire palace honoring the queen’s command for absolute stillness. His footsteps seemed unnaturally loud against the stone floor.

As he entered the dimly lit chamber, his eyes were drawn to Elena’s silhouette visible through the transparent curtains surrounding her bed. She was naked, her form illuminated by soft candlelight that revealed every elegant curve. Her body appeared flawless from this distance—skin like polished alabaster, her back a graceful arc that complemented her distinctly elven features.

’So I’m having a sex with an elf queen,’ he thought to himself, momentarily frozen in place as he processed what lay before him. The gravity of the ritual ahead settled over him like a weight.

Elena’s voice drifted through the curtains, carrying both authority and invitation. "Don’t just stand there," she commanded, her tone leaving no room for hesitation.

Eren drew a deep breath, steeling himself for whatever the mysterious TUNA ritual might entail, and stepped forward.

Eren stepped past the veil of curtains, each fold whispering against his skin like the breath of the forest. The chamber was steeped in warm light—candle flames flickering in golden pools across carved stone walls, reflecting off the silken sheets that adorned the Queen’s bed.

Elena turned toward him, her long white hair falling like starlight down her back. She stood bare, her form graceful yet regal, unmarred by hesitation. But when her eyes fell to him, to the silent gesture he made as he untied the belt of his ceremonial robe, something shifted in her expression—an involuntary breath, a widening of her gaze.

She had never seen a male before—not in truth. Not this close. Not unveiled.

Elena blinked once, lips parting slightly, her voice quiet. "It is... larger than I imagined. The scrolls... they did not describe this."

Eren stepped closer, his robe falling soundlessly to the stone floor. He stood tall, the only male in a world ruled by Queens and Commanders, the last Veilwalker. And here, in this moment, the rituals of old answered to him.

He did not speak right away. He simply looked at her, allowing silence to weigh between them—dominant, heavy, charged.

She shifted subtly under his gaze. "Should I begin? The texts say... the Veilwalker must guide. That I must not act unless told."

Eren’s voice was low, steady. "You speak truly. The TUNA is not merely a ritual—it is trust. And surrender." He circled her, slow as a stalking flame. "You are Queen, but here, you are the vessel. I will show you how to feel."

A tremble coursed through her, not of fear, but anticipation.

He lifted a single hand, calloused from battle, and placed it beneath her chin, guiding her face upward until their eyes met. "Kneel," he said, not harsh, but with unshakable command.

Elena obeyed.

Her breath hitched as she looked up at him, waiting. Her lips parted once more, but no question came. She understood—her part in this was to follow, to learn. To be shaped by the ritual.

Eren reached down, brushing a strand of silver hair from her face, his thumb lingering along the sharp line of her cheek. "You’ve known command your entire life," he said. "Now, let me teach you submission."

She gave a soft gasp—a sound somewhere between surprise and reverence. Her hands trembled slightly as she brought them to his hips, uncertain, tracing the outline of something wholly foreign to her elven world. Her mouth, too, hesitated near him, the closeness making her cheeks flush.

Eren looked down, his voice low and indulgent. "Do not fear it. It is yours tonight. All of it."

She let out a sigh—ethereal, musical, not of this world. Her first gesture was tentative, exploratory. Her lips brushed against him, featherlight, and her breath shivered with the unknown. The act held no vulgarity—only wonder.

"Like that?" she whispered, her voice trembling with both awe and effort. freewebnøvel.coɱ

Eren’s hand came to rest on her head, fingers threading into her hair. "Slower. Less breath. Let it be your tongue, not your uncertainty."

She obeyed, adjusting. The next contact was more fluid—soft and lingering. Her body responded instinctively, a quiet moan escaping her throat, melodic and high, like wind threading through leaves. "Mmmmnn... it feels... strange, yet... powerful."

He closed his eyes, jaw tightening as he guided her pace with careful pressure. "You’re learning fast."

She moaned again, deeper now, and the sound wrapped around the chamber like incense. It was as if she were tasting knowledge itself, feeling ancient truths passed through flesh.

Eren exhaled sharply, then pulled her away by the chin, lifting her gaze. Her lips were glistening, her eyes unfocused and bright with questions she did not yet know how to voice.

"Enough," he said, the single word like thunder beneath velvet. "You’ve tasted the first lesson. Now... lie down."

Elena hesitated only a moment before rising to her feet, her legs trembling with aftershocks of surrender. She climbed onto the bed as he commanded, settling upon the silk like a sculpture come to life—naked, glowing, open.

Eren stepped closer, towering over her, eyes devouring the curves of her bare figure with a hunger forged not just from desire, but from purpose.

As he loomed, Elena’s voice returned—hushed, reverent. "Will... will the ritual begin now?"

Eren gave a quiet, dangerous smile. "Not yet. But we are close."

He leaned in, bringing his lips to the skin just below her ear, whispering, "You’ve done well, my Queen. But tonight, you will learn what it means to be truly prepared."

Then, in the stillness of the chamber, as moonlight slipped between the curtains and wrapped their bodies in silver, Eren reached for her wrist and pinned it gently to the mattress—his touch firm, reverent.

And in that silence, Elena gave a final sound—not a word, not even a gasp—but a sigh of surrender, soft and high, like the first note of a hymn rising to the stars.