The moonlight over the Winged Tiger Tribe was especially cold.
Chloe Callahan gazed into a basin of clear water, turning it this way and that, her smooth, delicate hands gently caressing the flawless skin of her left cheek, stopping at a certain spot.
That place had once been scarred with the humiliating, ugly word 'Slave.'
Now, the word was long gone, the skin soft and smooth once more.
Not even a scar was visible.
She couldn't help but murmur inwardly: The Old Shaman from the Raging Lion Tribe is really skilled—can't see a single trace left behind.
Behind her stood a tall, athletic beastman: Javier Ashwood, son of the Raging Lion Tribe's leader, a sixth-rank beastman.
Handsome and charming, with a high-bridged nose and deep-set eyes, his expression enigmatic, bronze skin gleaming with a honeyed luster—a body radiating a potent masculine aura.
