Page 57

Her lips taste of adrenaline and fresh air, a reminder that we stand at the beginning of a new life.

My claws skim her waist, coaxing a gasp.

The flicker in her eyes—confidence, desire, and a bit of awe—sends a spark of pride through me.

We’re free to indulge in slow discovery, not frantic couplings forced by circumstances.

She tugs at my belt, her horns brushing the underside of my jaw in a sensation that borders on electric.

A low growl rumbles in my throat as I claim her mouth again, illusions shifting from starlight to something warmer, reminiscent of flickering candlelight.

The battered tapestry overhead rustles in the breeze, but I barely notice.

My entire world narrows to the soft press of her body, the gentle shift of her hips as we find a new harmony.

Her nails graze my shoulders—short but sharp, half-demonic—drawing a hiss of pleasure from me.

We sink onto the blankets, each motion measured so we don’t jolt bruises or reopen wounds.

But the hunger in our eyes burns hotter than caution.

Our breath tangles in a rhythm that’s half-laughter, half-moan, as we shed the last barriers.

Her coat slips from her shoulders first, revealing skin marbled with faint, pulsing runes.

Her nipples are already peaked, the cool air kissing them before I do.

She arches beneath me, her eyes lit with raw need and something deeper—trust. My magic dance in shimmering arcs, a silent testament to the power we wield for ourselves, not by decree. One glides along her thigh, light as silk. She laughs softly when it brushes the tender crease near her hip.

"That tickles," she whispers, voice husky.

"Good," I growl, letting it slither higher. "You’ll feel everything tonight. Every flicker of me."

I bury my face in the curve of her neck, inhaling her—storm wind, sweet sweat, and wild forest. Her pulse stutters as I drag my tongue up the slope of her throat to the spot just under her jaw that always makes her gasp. She does, arching into me with a breathless sound.

“No vow,” she whispers between kisses, voice thick with emotion. “Just me. Just you.”

"Just us," I echo, kissing her again—deeper, more demanding this time. I let her taste the storm building inside me.

My claws ghost down her sides, careful, reverent, but claiming. She grips my shoulders, nails biting into muscle, but I welcome it. She wants to mark me? Let her. I want to wear her across my skin.

I cradle her cheek, magic flickering in shifting hues—rose gold, deep crimson, phantom blue. Her sigh is a moan now, breath hitching as I slide lower, tracing the line of her collarbone with the edge of my tongue, savoring the salt and heat of her.

There’s no fear, no compulsion. Only want.

Each touch is a vow in its own right—to stand together, to share each other’s burdens and joys.

Our bodies find a languid rhythm, savoring the shape of new scars and old bruises, letting the friction of demonic strength meet the tenderness we’ve never been allowed.

She trembles as I kiss down her sternum, my lips brushing the underside of one breast. I suck her nipple into my mouth, and her hips rise off the ground, desperate for more.

"Malphas," she breathes, fingers threading through my hair.

"Say it again," I murmur against her skin, biting down just enough to make her gasp.

"Malphas," she moans, voice cracking with pleasure. "I want you."

I move lower, pausing to press kisses to the lines of glowing runes on her stomach. She watches me, lips parted, panting as I nudge her thighs apart with slow insistence. The scent of her arousal hits me like a blade to the chest—earthy, lush, addictive.

"Let me taste you," I growl.

"Yes," she whispers. “Please.”

I dip between her thighs, my tongue sliding over her slick folds.

She cries out, hips bucking, and I pin them down gently with clawed hands.

My magic swirl in rhythm with her moans—firelight shapes moving like breath over water.

I suck her clit between my lips, flicking it with my tongue as I slide one finger inside her tight heat.

"Fuck—Malphas—" she gasps, shuddering, hands fisting in the blankets.

“You’re dripping for me, horns,” I rasp. “So sweet. So fucking wet.”

A second finger joins the first, curling inside her. She keens, heels digging into the floor. Her thighs tremble around my head, and when she comes, it’s with a cry that echoes around us. Her pussy clenches around my fingers, pulsing like she’s trying to drag me inside her.

I press soft kisses to the inside of her thigh, licking her through the aftershocks until she tugs at my shoulders.

"Get up here," she pants. "Now. I need to feel your cock—need it inside me."

I growl, feral and undone, crawling over her as I discard the last of my armor. She watches me with hungry eyes as I wrap one hand around my cock, stroking the length slowly.

"You want this?" I tease, rubbing the head through her slick folds.

Her eyes flash. "Don’t you dare tease me now."

"You’ll take every inch of me," I snarl, aligning myself to her entrance.

"I’ll do more than take it," she growls. "I’ll ride it."

Before I can react, she pushes me back onto the blankets, straddling me with the fluid grace of someone who has owned every ounce of her power. Her silver eyes burn as she reaches down and guides my cock into her, sinking down inch by inch, taking me deep into her tight, heat-slick pussy.

"Fuck," I hiss, my hands flying to her hips. "You feel like godsdamned fire."

"And you feel like everything I was never allowed to want," she moans, beginning to ride me, slow and deep, her hands braced on my chest. Her horns catch the light as she moves, eyes fluttering shut in bliss.

Each grind of her hips sends stars flashing behind my eyes. I thrust up into her, matching her rhythm, lost in the friction, the wet heat, the slick sound of her pussy swallowing me again and again.

She leans forward, kissing me hungrily, grinding harder. “Deeper.”

I flip her then, one motion, laying her on her stomach and dragging her hips up. She gasps, breath knocked from her lungs, but arches her back, presenting herself like a feast.

I sink into her from behind, gripping her hips, slamming into her with a force that makes the tapestry above us flutter again. Her moans are raw, unfiltered, as my cock plunges into her, filling her completely.

"You're mine," I rasp into her ear, licking the curve of her neck. “This pussy—fuck—was always mine.”

She looks over her shoulder, sweat beading her brow. "Then claim it."

I do. Over and over. Until we’re shaking, breathless, our bodies fused. Her pussy clamps down as she comes again, the pulse of her inner walls triggering my own release. I roar, spilling into her in hot, shuddering waves.

We collapse in a heap, panting, trembling, her body snug against mine, still twitching in aftershock. My cock slips free with a wet sigh, and I cradle her close, illusions flickering like dying embers above us.

She turns her face up to mine, cheeks flushed, lips swollen. "No vow," she whispers again. "No chains. Just us."

I kiss her gently, reverently. "Just us," I promise, curling my wings around us both as the storm outside finally breaks.

And still, the night is not done. Not until we’ve made love again, and again—until the fire between us becomes the foundation of something new.

We lie entwined, the echoes of our release settling into a comforting hush.

My wings stretch, catching the torch’s faint flickers.

She turns her face up, silver eyes gleaming.

“I never thought… it could be like this,” she admits, voice husky with emotion.

“No vow, no prophecy, just choosing each other.”

My chest constricts with gratitude. “It’s everything I never dared hope for,” I murmur, brushing back a stray lock from her cheek. “All those centuries, I thought magic and power were my only comfort. Now, I find them dwarfed by a single touch from you.”

She flushes, horns dipping. “I’m no comfort, exactly—I have horns now,” she teases, though her voice cracks with feeling. “But I guess it works. Because I choose you too. For everything.”

My illusions swirl, forming faint shapes reminiscent of drifting petals overhead. “Then say it. Say you’ll stand with me in whatever future we build.”

Her eyes lock on mine, runes flickering across her arms. “I vow it, demon,” she says softly, “with no monarchy or vow to overshadow us. I stand with you, Malphas. Now and always.”

Emotion surges in me—a twisted love that defies centuries of slavery and darkness, forging a new bond shaped by choice.

I swallow the lump in my throat, illusions brightening.

“And I vow the same, Valentina. I’m yours.

I pledge my life, my illusions, my freedom.

We are mates in every sense—by our choice. ”

Tears shimmer in her silver gaze, but she smiles, horns tipping forward. “Mates.” The word resonates in the quiet, sending a pleasant shiver along my spine. She slides her hand to rest over my chest, feeling my heartbeat. “We have each other. That’s enough to face whatever lurks beneath or beyond.”

A breeze rustles the tapestry overhead, and somewhere in the dark, thunder rumbles softly, echoing across the distance.

It’s a reminder that Protheka remains a land on the brink of new storms. Yet I hold her gently, illusions warming the air around us, forging a cocoon of momentary peace.

We have survived. We have chosen each other.

Our twisted love—demon and half-demon—stands in defiance of the monarchy’s chains.

She nuzzles her horns against my cheek, voice dropping in a playful whisper. “Ready for round two?”

Laughter bubbles up in me, illusions fracturing in whimsical sparks. “Give me a minute, horns,” I tease, pressing a playful kiss to her temple. “We can test your new strength soon enough.”

Her eyes gleam with mischief, the black runes on her arms glinting as she moves. “We have all night. And if the monarchy tries to show up, we’ll just… ignore them. Or skewer them.”

My illusions glow and swirl around us, reflecting my grin. “Skewer them, definitely. Now come here.”

We share another kiss, slow and languid.

The night is ours to shape—the monarchy’s vow broken in the dust, leaving behind only the promise of our new bond.

Outside, the storm clouds roil ominously, a cameo of the darker threat we both sense churning in Protheka’s depths.

But that is for another dawn. Tonight, we celebrate the triumph of choosing each other without fear or chain.

Hours later, the storm breaks in earnest, lightning flashing against the tower’s crumbling walls.

Rain batters the night, but we remain curled among the blankets, illusions warming the space with faint glimmers.

Each time thunder rattles the stones, we share a soft laugh, pressing closer, horns bumping in affectionate exchange.

We’re mates—no vow or prophecy can stand against that.

Dawn arrives drenched in rain-soaked hush, the world beyond the tower shimmering with renewed color.

I wake with Valentina dozing on my chest, her horns pressed under my chin.

My illusions pulse with a gentle glow, unforced, an extension of my soul.

I breathe in the scent of damp grass and her warmth, a quiet contentment anchoring me.

The monarchy’s chain is undone, replaced by a vow of our own making.

That is the final image of our new life.

We rise eventually, new beginnings stirring in our limbs.

She tightens the straps on her battered boots while I gather the illusions that will cloak us from prying eyes.

In the distance, thunder still murmurs, reminding us that something stirs beneath the earth.

But we are not the same beings we were when the vow enslaved me and fear plagued her every step.

Now, we stand united in a twisted love that defies fate, horns and illusions shining in a stormlit dawn.

Her silver gaze meets mine as we step outside into the wet morning.

Raindrops glitter on her horns, a reflection of the vow’s fragments washed away by freedom.

She lifts a hand, black runes faintly pulsing along her arm, and tangles her fingers with mine.

“Together,” she says, just one word, but it’s a promise that resounds in the hush.

I nod, magic glowing around my horns as the wind tugs at my wings.

“Always together,” I echo, letting a tide of devotion color my voice.

We turn from the tower, stepping into the swirling mists of Protheka’s morning.

The storm beyond might loom, something worse stirring beneath the crust of this world, but we hold each other’s hands with a dark, unbreakable hope.

The cycle of chains is broken, replaced by a vow shaped by love and defiance, our horns lifted in silent victory.

Freed from monarchy’s yoke, we forge a life on our own terms, mates by choice, illusions swirling and demon runes glowing in the half-light.

A new future beckons, a twisted love that might save or condemn Protheka.

But in this moment, as the sun fights its way through the storm clouds, I have Valentina at my side, horns and all, and I need no vow to force me to cherish her.

I choose her—we choose each other—and that is enough to face whatever darkness arises next.