The night sky was clear as polished glass.
Moonlight spilled across Lakeheart Isle in sheets of pale silver, turning the lake into a mirror of cold white fire. Thin clouds drifted far overhead like torn silk, slow and lonely, and the whole world felt too quiet.
Too still.
Kael lay sprawled over the stone railing of the pavilion, staring across the black waters toward the forest on the far shore.
The trees stood packed together like a wall of spears.
Beyond them—nothing.
No movement.
No battle cries.
No skeletal marching.
But Kael could feel them.
The darkness beyond the treeline seemed alive, as if countless unseen eyes were watching from the shadows. Waiting. Measuring.
His patience finally snapped.
"What in the abyss is taking them so long?" he muttered. "Why haven't they attacked yet?"
Across from him, Lyra Farrow barely moved.
She reclined sideways against a curved stone bench, one cheek resting lazily against her shoulder, her body draped against the railing like she had been painted there by some depraved god of beauty.
"I don't know," she murmured.
Kael turned sharply.
"That's it?"
"Yes."
He stared at her in disbelief.
"They've flooded the entire island with Demon-Aether. The dead are gathering in the woods. They nearly killed us in the caverns. And your grand tactical wisdom is I don't know?"
Lyra didn't even open her eyes.
"I'm very tired, Kael."
He scowled.
"What are they waiting for?"
"I said I don't know."
Kael folded his arms.
Then a thought struck him.
"Wait…"
He straightened.
"Could they be afraid of this island?"
That strange pressure he'd felt in the grand hall returned to his mind—that ancient sense of reverence buried inside the old formation lines.
Maybe the undead felt it too.
Maybe something here frightened them.
Lyra's answer remained exactly as useless as before.
"I don't know."
"Shreve—"
She cut him off with a weak wave of her hand.
"I was awake all night. I spent all day repairing defensive arrays while the rest of you stumbled around bleeding on each other."
Her voice had grown softer.
"The Demon-Aether is getting thicker. They'll come eventually."
Then silence.
Kael waited for another insult.
Another command.
Another threat.
Instead—
nothing.
He blinked.
Then glanced over.
Lyra had fallen asleep.
Just like that.
Moonlight poured through the pavilion, draping itself over her body like translucent silk.
Kael froze.
Even sleeping, Lyra Farrow looked unreal.
Her skin glowed like warm cream beneath the silver light. Her black hair spilled across the stone like ink. Her loose robes clung to her curves in soft folds that somehow concealed nothing.
She looked less like a woman and more like some forbidden celestial being who had wandered into mortal lands by mistake.
Kael swallowed hard.
And immediately thought of Selene.
The memory hit him without mercy.
Selene sleeping with her head in his lap.
Selene trembling beneath him.
Selene gasping his name.
Then came the memory of Mira in the spring earlier that day.
His pulse quickened.
His mouth went dry.
He violently shook his head.
"No."
He stood abruptly.
"Nope. Not doing this."
He marched out of the pavilion before his thoughts got any worse.
The southern corridor was partially hidden behind thick tropical growth. Massive broad leaves blocked much of the stone walkway.
"Sel's over there…"
Kael frowned.
"If the dead attack from that direction, this could be a problem."
He began ripping away the overgrown leaves with far more force than necessary.
Branches snapped.
Leaves tore.
Stems broke under his hands.
He worked like a man trying to strangle his own lust through gardening.
By the time he returned to the pavilion nearly half an hour later, sweat clung to his body.
And he still refused to look directly at Lyra.
Instead, he dropped to the floor and pulled items from the Wardian Satchel.
Bones.
Fragments.
Monster remains.
He sorted through his spoils with growing annoyance.
"That's it?"
He stared at two sets of blood-stained skeleton remains.
"That's all I got?"
He had fought horrifying creatures.
Nightmarish monsters.
Ancient undead.
And somehow his reward was two lousy piles of bones.
Kael clicked his tongue.
"Unacceptable."
He leaned back.
"If those bone bastards attack tonight…"
A grin spread across his face.
"I'm harvesting everything."
He pointed dramatically toward the forest.
"You hear me, you ugly dead freaks? The Little Saint-Lord will show no mercy!"
He cackled to himself.
Then shoved the bones back into the satchel.
His fingers brushed something smooth.
He paused.
Then slowly pulled it free.
The porcelain bottle.
Inside rested the delicate pink branch Lady Perelda had gifted him.
The Lone-Bud Branch.
Its single peach blossom bud shimmered faintly in the moonlight.
Kael brightened instantly.
"Oh right."
He grinned.
"There's a beautiful little spirit girl in here."
His boredom vanished.
"I could summon Peria…"
He paused.
Then glanced toward sleeping Lyra.
His expression tightened.
"...or I could accidentally unleash a spirit in front of one of the most terrifying women alive."
He thought about that for several long seconds.
"No."
Absolutely not.
He carefully placed the bottle on the stone table.
Then leaned close to the blossom.
"My Shreve is here, so don't come out, alright?"
He whispered conspiratorially.
"Just... enjoy some fresh air."
The blossom trembled slightly.
As if nodding.
Kael's eyes widened.
"You understood that?"
He leaned closer.
"Can you hear me without being summoned?"
The flower trembled again.
Kael became absurdly excited.
"Well then."
He grinned.
"Today's lesson."
He cleared his throat.
"When meeting someone important, you say: 'Greetings, mighty and handsome Lord Ashvane.'"
Silence.
Kael frowned.
"No? Fine."
He tried again.
"'Greetings, noble Kael, whose brilliance rivals the stars.'"
Nothing.
He spent quite a while teaching the silent flower increasingly ridiculous greetings.
Eventually even he got bored.
And the forest remained silent.
No attack.
No movement.
No screams.
Nothing.
The waiting began clawing at his nerves again.
He stood and paced.
Then—
he passed Lyra.
And looked.
Just once.
That was all it took.
Kael slowed.
His eyes drifted over her sleeping form.
And stayed there.
His breathing grew uneven.
Lyra's figure was nothing like Selene's.
Nothing like Mira's.
Nothing like any woman he had ever touched.
Her waist was slim enough for both his hands to circle.
But above and below—
her body swelled into lush, devastating curves that seemed almost offensively perfect.
Her chest rose heavily beneath thin fabric.
Her hips flared into soft fullness.
Then a cool night breeze entered the pavilion.
Her robe shifted.
Lifted.
Clung.
Revealed.
Kael stopped breathing.
A glimpse of thigh.
A flash of pale skin.
The curve of breast beneath silk.
Gone in an instant.
But the damage was done.
He swallowed hard.
The night had grown colder.
Yet heat flooded through his body.
"She fell asleep like that…"
His voice came out hoarse.
"What if she gets cold?"
That sounded noble enough.
Reasonable.
He quickly removed his outer robe.
Then crept toward her.
Slowly.
Quietly.
Carefully.
He leaned down to drape it over her—
And Lyra's head suddenly slipped sideways.
Kael reacted instantly.
He caught her before her face struck stone.
He carefully lowered her onto the curved bench.
And froze.
The bench wrapped tightly along the pavilion wall.
It forced her body into an arch.
And suddenly every sinful curve became impossible to ignore.
Her breasts pressed upward against soft fabric.
The neckline had slipped lower.
Far lower.
Kael stared.
And forgot how breathing worked.
Moonlight illuminated creamy skin.
The soft rise of full breasts strained against a tightly wrapped violet breast-band.
The fabric compressed them so tightly that soft flesh spilled above and below the restraint.
And just barely—
barely—
he could see hints of darker pink around what the fabric hid.
Kael trembled.
His entire body burned.
"What..."
He leaned closer.
"What's under there...?"
The thought hit him like poison.
He stared.
And stared.
And stared.
His face drifted closer.
He could smell her.
Warm skin.
Faint perfume.
Something deeply feminine and intoxicating.
The breast-band remained in place.
Cruel.
Unmoving.
He twitched.
"Just one look…"
His conscience screamed.
You idiot.
She'll kill you.
She absolutely deserves to kill you.
Kael nearly cried.
"Please wake up."
Lyra continued sleeping peacefully.
One arm hung limply.
Completely vulnerable.
Completely unaware.
Kael's control shattered.
Sweat poured down his face.
His shaking fingers reached forward.
Paused.
Retreated.
Returned.
Finally—
he hooked trembling fingers beneath the violet binding.
And pulled.
The fabric slipped free.
And her breasts spilled into moonlight.
Kael nearly died.
They bounced softly as they escaped confinement.
Perfect.
Heavy.
Soft.
Their pale fullness gleamed like sculpted ivory.
And at their peaks—
dusky rose nipples tightened in the cold air.
Kael made a strangled noise.
"That's—"
He nearly nosebled.
"That's illegal—"
Then Lyra opened her eyes.
Kael's soul left his body.
She stared directly at him.
Her cheeks were flushed.
Her lips parted.
Her breathing uneven.
Kael nearly collapsed.
"I—"
No words came.
He jerked backward—
And accidentally yanked the loosened breast-band.
Lyra gasped.
Then fell directly into his chest.
Her body slammed against him in a wave of heat and softness.
Her scent overwhelmed him.
Kael's mind went completely blank.
"Oh gods."
His arms instinctively wrapped around her.
"Oh gods what am I doing—"
"Little thief."
Her voice was breathless.
Half accusation.
Half something far more dangerous.
She pushed weakly against his chest and lifted herself enough to meet his eyes.
Her expression destroyed what remained of his sanity.
She wasn't furious.
She wasn't murderous.
She looked flushed.
Shaken.
Wet-eyed.
Hungry.
Kael stared like a doomed man.
Lyra slowly lifted the breast-band back over herself.
The silk dragged across her bare skin.
Pressed into soft flesh.
The movement was unbearably erotic.
Kael snapped.
He lunged forward.
Pinned her against the railing.
His hands roamed wildly across her body.
Lyra gasped sharply.
Her eyes fluttered.
His palms found her breasts again.
Hot.
Heavy.
Soft beyond reason.
He groaned and squeezed.
His hands trembled from overstimulation.
"Little deviant—"
Lyra's voice shook.
"You dare touch your Shreve like this?"
That only made him worse.
Kael gripped her harder.
Massaging greedily.
Feeling their impossible softness.
Lyra writhed against him.
Half resisting.
Half pressing closer.
Kael lost what little restraint remained.
He tore open her outer robes.
Fabric slipped from her shoulders.
Then he yanked open the silver inner layer beneath.
Lyra gasped.
"Should I tell your master?"
Her voice trembled.
"Aren't you afraid?"
Kael stared at her with raw hunger.
Something in his expression made her freeze.
Her breath hitched.
She looked almost dazed.
He stripped both garments down to her waist.
Her upper body was nearly bare now.
Moonlight bathed her exposed skin.
Kael looked once.
Then completely lost control.
He buried his face between her breasts.
His mouth latched onto one nipple.
Lyra cried out.
Her body jolted violently.
Kael sucked hungrily.
Then moved to the other side.
Licking.
Kissing.
Biting softly.
Driving her into trembling madness.
Lyra's fingers buried themselves in his hair.
Her thoughts spiraled.
His face.
His recklessness.
His expression.
Even the way he touched her—
Why did it all feel so painfully familiar?
How could there be so many coincidences?
Kael devoured her chest without restraint.
His tongue circled hardened peaks.
His lips left glistening trails across her skin.
Lyra looked down.
Saw him worshipping her body.
And something inside her snapped.
A deep wave of lust surged through her.
Her thighs pressed together.
Her breathing turned ragged.
Her hand slipped downward.
Searching.
Reaching for his belt.
Her fingers shook so badly she could barely undo it.
Kael felt her trembling fingers fumble uselessly at his belt and nearly laughed from sheer delirium.
He caught her wrists.
"No, Shreve— let me."
His voice came out rough and shaking.
He tore at his own belt knot with clumsy urgency, breathing hard against Lyra's chest. The moment the leather loosened, her hand slipped beneath his clothes like a living flame.
Kael jerked violently.
Gods.
Her palm wrapped around him.
Soft.
Warm.
Silken.
And his body nearly failed him on the spot.
He groaned into her breast, sucking harder on her nipple as if pain might keep him sane. His teeth scraped gently over the sensitive peak.
Lyra cried out.
Her entire body arched.
"Ah—! Kael— mmh—"
Her fingers tightened around his hardened length.
Even with her whole hand, she couldn't fully close around him.
That realization visibly shook her.
"So big..." she whispered, voice dazed and breathless.
Then her hand began to move.
Slow at first.
Testing.
Learning.
Her delicate grip slid along his length in long strokes that nearly ripped his soul from his body.
Kael bit down harder on her nipple.
Lyra gasped sharply.
"You little beast— ah... ah...!"
But there was no anger in her voice.
Only mounting pleasure.
Kael's mind went white.
He had no technique.
No patience.
No discipline.
He only knew that whatever made Lyra cry out like that needed to happen again.
And again.
And again.
He licked.
Bit softly.
Kissed.
Dragged his tongue around her hardened nipples until her legs shook.
Lyra writhed against the railing, one hand buried in his hair while the other stroked him faster.
Her elegant composure had completely shattered.
She looked drunk.
Her lips parted.
Eyes half-lidded.
Cheeks burning crimson.
Her hand moved faster.
Then crueler.
Her fingertips began circling the sensitive crown.
Kael nearly screamed.
"Shreve—!"
Lyra lifted her gaze lazily.
Her expression was pure wicked feminine triumph.
"Yes?"
She rubbed harder.
Kael's entire body locked.
"I—I'm going to—"
He gripped her shoulders desperately.
Lyra misunderstood instantly.
Her face turned molten with lust.
She leaned against his ear and whispered in a trembling breath:
"Then take me."
The words nearly killed him.
But before he could move—
His body betrayed him.
His cock throbbed violently in her hand.
Then erupted.
Hot streams of Virilic Essence spilled across her fingers.
Lyra froze.
Then immediately understood.
Her eyes widened.
"Oh."
Instead of stopping, she sped up.
Her hand worked him rapidly through each pulse, milking every trembling release from him.
Kael nearly blacked out.
He dragged her into his arms and crushed her against his chest.
Lyra melted into him like boneless silk, staring up into his face while her hand continued its slower strokes.
Kael shook uncontrollably.
Every bone in his body felt molten.
Finally, the convulsions ended.
Lyra withdrew her hand.
White strands stretched between her fingers.
Thick.
Endless.
She blinked at the mess coating her hand.
Then a playful smile spread across her lips.
She slowly spread her fingers wider.
Long strands stretched between them.
Unbroken.
Her smile grew.
Kael stared stupidly.
Completely spent.
Completely in love.
Completely doomed.
Lyra looked at him.
Then giggled.
"Already?"
Kael blinked.
"What?"
"Nothing."
She bit her lip to stop laughing.
Then failed.
Her laughter grew louder.
Kael narrowed his eyes.
"You're mocking me."
"No."
"Yes, you are."
"No."
She dissolved into laughter again.
Kael stared at her in complete humiliation.
She was laughing so hard her breasts bounced wildly beneath the moonlight.
And somehow that made everything worse.
He lunged.
Pinned her against the railing again.
"What are you laughing at?"
"Nothing!" she gasped.
"Lie."
"Kael— stop—"
He attacked her sides.
Lyra shrieked.
Her entire body jolted.
She nearly collapsed.
"You—! You little devil!"
Kael grinned viciously.
Tickling Mira and Selene had taught him this trick long ago.
It had never failed.
It did not fail now.
Lyra writhed helplessly beneath him.
Her magnificent body twisted violently.
Her breasts swayed in hypnotic waves.
"Confess."
"Stop— stop!"
"Confess."
"I will!"
He loosened his grip slightly.
Lyra gasped for air.
Her eyes were wet.
Her body shook.
And then she muttered:
"You act fierce outside…"
Kael narrowed his eyes.
"And?"
She bit her lip.
Then burst into helpless laughter again.
"But inside... you're a silver-plated spear with a wax shaft."
Kael stared blankly.
His brain struggled.
Then understanding hit.
His entire face exploded red.
"You mean finishing fast is bad?!"
Lyra laughed even harder.
Kael saw red.
He attacked her mercilessly.
"You dare laugh at me?"
"You did finish fast!"
"You're dead."
"I'm telling the truth!"
That was when Kael's hand slipped beneath her robes.
Lyra's laughter stopped instantly.
His fingers brushed soft skin.
Then lower.
Then lower.
Until his palm found heat.
Softness.
And a lush, soaked fullness that made his mind completely stop functioning.
Lyra jolted.
Her hips tried to retreat.
Kael refused.
His fingers chased her deeper.
Then slipped between wet folds.
Lyra cried out.
Her arms wrapped around his neck instantly.
That reaction nearly drove Kael insane.
He explored clumsily.
Hungrily.
His fingers moved through slick heat.
Every touch earned another trembling gasp.
Lyra collapsed against his shoulder.
Her breathing turned ragged.
Her entire body glistened with sweat.
Kael felt something small and exquisitely sensitive beneath his searching fingers.
The moment he touched it—
Lyra nearly screamed.
"Ahhh—!"
Her nails dug into his back.
Her body convulsed.
Warm fluid soaked his hand.
Kael froze for half a heartbeat.
Then grinned like a lunatic.
He remembered Selene reacting the same way.
That meant he was doing something very right.
Lyra panted against his shoulder.
Her body shook violently.
Then her hand dropped between them again.
She found him fully hard once more.
Her eyes widened with delighted disbelief.
"So quickly again…"
She released his neck and leaned back against the railing.
Her legs parted slightly.
Her gaze turned molten.
Inviting.
Begging.
Kael completely misunderstood.
His eyes dropped to her breasts.
Perfect.
Magnificent.
Impossible.
He forgot everything else.
Lyra stared at him in disbelief as he shoved himself between her breasts.
"You idiot—"
Then he thrust.
Lyra gasped.
Her body went rigid.
Kael nearly roared from the sensation.
He thrust again.
And again.
Her breasts were impossibly soft.
Warm.
Heavenly.
He moved faster.
Lyra glared at him with murderous frustration.
She was burning alive.
And he was using her chest.
She could hardly believe this idiotic little beast.
Still—
it felt disgustingly good.
Kael thrust harder.
Then slipped fully between her breasts.
The pressure nearly made him lose his mind.
Lyra let out a broken moan and instinctively squeezed her breasts together for him.
Kael nearly died.
He began pounding between them.
His cock disappeared into her cleavage and emerged slick and shining.
Her nipples bounced wildly.
Her entire chest gleamed with sweat and his release.
Lyra endured it with gritted teeth.
Her lower body ached with desperate emptiness.
Please.
Please understand.
Please put it where it belongs.
Kael remained gloriously stupid.
He thrust faster.
His breathing turned feral.
Lyra's voice trembled.
"How... how did you treat Selene that night...?"
Kael blinked.
"What?"
Lyra nearly screamed in frustration.
"You idiot... you're hard enough already…"
Her arms trembled beneath the weight of her own breasts.
And then—
The sound came.
A monstrous horn-like howl.
Long.
Deep.
Inhuman.
It shook the entire pavilion.
Kael froze.
His blood turned to ice.
He knew that sound.
The Ancient War Camp.
The undead.
He looked toward the lake.
And saw it.
A colossal black shape rising from the water.
Each step sent waves crashing outward.
Lyra shook her head wildly.
"No—ignore it—"
Her voice cracked with desperate need.
"Kael... please... just take me—"
The night exploded with sickly green fire.
Dozens of ghostly flames ignited across the lake.
The massive silhouette became visible.
Kael's face went white.
It was a giant skeleton.
Towering like a siege tower.
Its skull was enormous enough to house six burning green eyesockets.
Inside each socket stood skeletal sorcerers clutching staves.
Its body crawled with armored skeleton soldiers clinging to its bones like insects.
Hundreds of them.
Waiting.
Hungry.
Kael stared in disbelief.
"What... what is that?"
And then—
his body betrayed him again.
The sheer shock tore control from him.
He climaxed violently.
Again.
Lyra stared in stunned disbelief as Virilic Essence blasted across her chest—
then her throat—
then her face—
then tangled in her hair.
She went completely still.
White liquid dripped from her lashes.
Her lips parted.
Her expression became dangerously calm.
Then dangerously beautiful.
"Again?"
More thick streams forced their way out between pressed flesh.
They ran down the curves of her chest in white trails.
Lyra slowly looked at him.
Her expression promised future revenge.
Kael opened his mouth.
Nothing came out.
The colossal skeletal titan reached the shore of Lakeheart Isle.
Then bent its legs.
And jumped.
It landed atop the island platform with an earth-shattering impact.
Stone exploded.
Cracks raced across the ground.
The entire island trembled.
At the same moment—
the skeleton soldiers launched themselves from its body.
Nearly a hundred undead warriors hit the ground screaming.
Weapons raised.
Charging straight toward the central hall.
And Kael and Lyra were still half naked.