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The area around the mirrored dome was dark, isolated, and surrounded by trees, offering privacy to those who participated in the Hymma.

I smirked and slashed Mithrion through the air, cutting open Rowen’s shirt. The fabric billowed open to reveal his chest and the defined lines of his abdomen.

A wicked grin lit up his face, the moon highlighting his roguish beauty.

My momentary distraction left him room to parry, and in one skillful motion that I couldn’t deflect, he cut open my undershirt.

My breath hitched as the tip of his blade whispered over my skin, exposing a strip of flesh down to my navel.

I rotated away from him to get his sleeve, but he flicked his blade up and caught hold of my shirt, stripping it off me as I spun. I swirled back on him, facing him naked from the waist up. Cool air met my flushed skin and pebbled my nipples.

“So glorious,” he hummed, his eyes dancing across my breasts. “Such pretty pink nipples that beg to be sucked.”

It was my turn to seize his distraction. I flicked my knife forward and cut off one of his sleeves. I felt a moment of pride before I looked down and realized he had already sliced open the panels of my pants.

“Hey!” I exclaimed, annoyed that he was beating me. I thrust my blade at him again, but his ax caught on the prong of my crossguard. He spun me around and slammed my back against his chest, our weapons locked above us. His chest heaved behind me as his erection dug into my back.

Before I could counter, his free hand dove into the waistband of my pants, and I jolted as his finger tapped my clit through my underwear. He tapped me again, then pressed, and a needy sound escaped my mouth as he circled my bundle of nerves.

He chuckled as I moaned and rested my head against his shoulder.

His finger inched aside the fabric of my panties, feeling just how damp and aroused I was. “Always so wet for me,” he hummed in approval, his breath skirting along the curve of my neck.

I cried out as he drove two fingers inside of me.

My breasts turned heavy, and tension tightened in my core. “Look at yourself in the mirror. See how you writhe on my fingers?"

My eyes flitted up, and the image of our tangled bodies reflected on the Hymma walls. Rowen was behind me, holding me in place as he pumped his fingers inside me. My face was flushed, my body breathless and needy.

He was right. I was writhing.

Both of our gazes were fixated on our reflection as he pumped harder and faster. Tension built in my core, and I moaned uncontrollably.

“Watch as I make you come,” he whispered in my ear just as a violent spasm rocked my body.

His touch was deliberate, unforgiving, and extracting every ounce of my pleasure as I came on his hand .

He laughed. “My, how easily you let me win when my fingers are deep inside of you.”

I blinked my half-lidded eyes. Oh. That’s right. We were in the middle of sparring; my blade was still in my hand.

I wanted to claim victory, especially because it was Mithrion’s first fight.

“Who said I let you win?” I replied, kicking back and hitting him in the shin. He grunted and released me, his hand sliding out of my pants.

I spun around, and we collided like two celestial bodies.

Slowly, we finished stripping each other naked, and in the end, it was hard to say who won.

“It is one of the lithest materials I have ever worked with,” Bailon said the next morning with enthusiasm, heat radiating from the forge.

The building was a breathtaking blend of nature and elven craftsmanship.

Tools and anvils with intricate designs lined the hearths and fire pits.

Even though the space was open, the smell of metal, fire, and sweat filled the air.

“It appears to be a type of crystal. Easy to manipulate yet strong and balanced. It is quite remarkable.”

“And there’s this,” I said, brandishing Mithrion. The room fell into quiet astonishment as the bladesmiths realized the crystal could hold Light. The room collectively gasped, gazing wide-eyed as the blade cast an ethereal glow upon their faces.

“It is an Ever-burn star! It just needed a little help,” Leer said with awe as the Light held strong, thrumming with a celestial pulse.

“It must have been sent from the Elder Spirits,” Bailon added, wiping the sweat from his brow after a long day at the forge. “For the Synodic Son. ”

His eyes immediately shot to mine, his face reddening in embarrassment. “Oh, forgive me, my lady. You are no son.” His eyes flickered over me. “But are you The Marked?”

“Master!” Leer exclaimed in horror. “That question is most inappropriate."

“It’s all right,” I assured him, showing the silver scar tattoos on my arms. “I have these. Though I’m not sure if that qualifies me as The Marked.”

“That’s a good enough sign for me,” Bailon replied, grinning as he proudly pulled out a few more blades, each shining like the depths of a black sea.

Just as I took another weapon and pulsed the Alcreon Light through it, Maddock entered the forge.

“Very cool,” he said, the Alcreon Light glistening on his face.

“Try one,” I said, passing him a blade. A sparkle ignited in Madds’ eyes, as if asking for his help truly moved him.

His large hand wrapped around the hilt, and with a small blast of Light, the weapon came to life in his grip.

We grinned, then Maddock and I each ignited one more blade with the celestial brilliance.

“Now, we need to test them,” Rowen said, his voice solemn.

Five weapons had been forged overnight—a feat from the master bladesmiths. Each one was placed on the table, except for the one strapped to my thigh, their edges gleaming with an ethereal glow. Rowen took the largest.

Bailon placed the sample rock on the table and said, “Even a little goes a long way. The metal flattens out nicely. We can make a few more while you are away.”

Maddock quickly charged the stagnant rock with Light. “Here you go,” he said, looking pleased that he had been able to help again.

Rowen glanced between Bailon and Leer. “Thank you,” he said, the Light shining in his emerald eyes. “These are magnificent. A true testament to your skill.”

“They are amazing,” I agreed, though mine was my favorite.

“The Alcreon Light certainly adds a celestial flare,” Leer said, offering me an approving nod.

Maddock inspected the newly forged weapons on the table and grabbed the one that spoke to him. “There are two left. I know one is for Dyani, but who else will be joining us on this perilous quest?

“We told Dyani to pick the fifth,” I said, trusting her explicitly.

“Now that you know your warriors, please find Enrin and end his suffering,” Leer urged, his voice heavy with emotion, and I briefly wondered if they were more than friends. “I would like to know his blue eyes have closed in peace.”

Rowen gripped Leer’s shoulder, a firm promise in his gaze. “We will. I promise we will.”

Rowen, Dyani, Maddock, and I prepared for our mission in the weapon storeroom.

The space was filled with gleaming blades, piles of fighting leathers, and various combat accessories.

Rowen grabbed some extra rope, supplies, and bandages and stuffed them into his rucksack.

We slowly built the armor over our arms and chests.

We were all quiet, focusing on the mission ahead.

As Rowen slipped a fighting leather through my arm, he glanced at Dyani. “Who did you ask to be our fifth?”

Dyani flipped her ponytail off her shoulder. “Minroe.”

“The little one you spar with?” he asked, tightening the strap on my shoulder .

She huffed, straightening the silver bands on her arms. “Don’t let her hear you say that. She’s more vicious than I am."

“She’s late,” Rowen said, unamused, as his hands roved over my body, adjusting my straps with deft precision.

“She’ll be here.”

Rowen tightened my thigh strap and slipped my newly forged blade into the holster, ensuring it was secure. “I haven’t seen you spar with her in a while. Everything all right between you two?”

Dyani rolled her eyes. “All you need to know is that I trust her with my life. She may be small, but she’s absolutely lethal.”

Rowen started to check and tighten my leathers again, but I stopped him, placing my hand over his. “They’re good, Rowen. Any tighter, and I won’t be able to breathe.”

He paused, catching himself, and flashed me a grin. “Apologies, my flame. You look incredible.”

I couldn’t help but smile back, helping to ease the tension. “I feel like a badass,” I said, patting the illuminated star blade at my thigh.

Rowen’s gaze trailed up my body with heat, admiration, and pride. “You are a badass.”

A clattering sound echoed from the corner of the room, drawing our attention. “Hey, am I wearing these right?” Maddock asked, turning around and looking like a jumbled mess of straps.

A silent beat lingered in the air. “No,” we all said in unison before laughter filled the room.

I’d given Madds a hard time in the past, and rightfully so, but I had to admit, I was glad he was here to help ease the tension.

All three of us helped Madds fix his leathers when the door suddenly slammed open. All our gazes shot to Minroe, standing in the threshold, fully dressed and ready for battle .

If she found it strange that all our hands were on her former prisoner, she didn’t mention it.

The last time I’d seen her, she let me pass unlawfully to visit Maddock.

We’d essentially committed a crime together, but now, striding toward the center of the room, she acted as if that never happened.

She picked up the last remaining blade and inspected it with an appreciating nod.

She shoved it into her holster and said, “Let’s get this over with. ”