The first rays of a new sun, a star born from the cosmic dust of a thousand dead worlds, crept through the shattered windows of Lilith's chamber.
The light fell across the bed, illuminating a scene of divine devastation. The crimson sheets were a ruin of sweat, saliva, and cum, stained and torn. The air was thick with the musky, primal scent of their prolonged, brutal coupling.
Jax stirred, a low groan rumbling in his chest. His body, a temple of divine power, felt a rare and unfamiliar ache.
He opened his golden eyes, expecting to see the conquered goddess asleep beside him, her body a testament to his conquest.
But she wasn't there.
The space beside him was empty, though still warm. He frowned, a flicker of annoyance cutting through his post-coital haze. Had she dared to leave his side? Had she misunderstood the permanence of her new station?
He started to push himself up, his muscles protesting, when he felt it.
A soft, wet heat enveloping his morning wood.
