Her fingers touched her skin with a fiery heat—rough, yet at the same time—was strangely graceful, as if what she touched might vanish if she wasn't careful.
Each movement carried a strange mix of roughness and care, like she was both punishing and worshipping the body beneath her.
Her hand moved slowly, gliding and sliding down the soft curves of her form, like a serpent stalking its prey.
Silent.
Patient.
And hungry—until, finally, it reached her core.
Elyn trembled.
Her whole body jerked with the sudden rush of sensation beneath her stomach.
Pleasure surged through her, like a wave breaking and crashing against a fragile shore. Her pale skin shivered under the burning touch of something dark, something forbidden—that had been tied and ingrained in her ever since she had made that choice.
But inside her, deeper than the pleasure, something old and heavy stirred.
A feeling buried beneath warmth and desire.
It was the echo of a curse, a mark carved into her soul when she betrayed all she had once believed in.
She had turned her back on her sacred order, walked away from her people, and broken the oath she had made to the goddess who had once given her life and purpose.
That betrayal had come with a cost.
And the curse that followed could only be quieted by the sinful hands of the corrupted—the very enemies of the Seraphim.
The same beings she had once sworn to destroy.
Only they could bring her this strange kind of peace.
The touch of those whose eidra had been twisted and blackened, like the burning demons of Dravonia.
Horned creatures born in fire, living between the worlds of humans, Arcadia, and the scorched lands of Dravonia.
Their presence alone was a sin. Their touch—fiery and deep like the pits of hell they lived on.
She arched her back as the dravonian woman's touch sent another tremble through her—not out of fear, but from the ecstatic pull of pleasure.
Her fingers gripped the linen of the bed, clutching it like her life depended on it, her breath sharp and shaky.
"You've truly fallen far, Elyn," came the whisper—soft, low, and full of mischief.
Her lips brushed Elyn's cheek, tender and slow, then moved up toward her ear.
Her long tongue slithered like a snake, winding and dancing across Elyn's ear.
At the same time, her other hand moved with purpose, sending tremors through the very center of Elyn's being.
As if building an inferno inside her, the heat swelled until it burst into roaring flames.
Elyn gasped, her voice echoing through the room as her legs instinctively wrapped around the body of the Dravonian.
"Haah…" Her breath came in ragged waves. The Dravonian now lay beside her, calmly watching her with a curious, steady gaze, her glowing yellow eyes meeting Elyn's silver ones.
"How does it feel to taste evil again?" she asked with a smirk, trailing her fingers along Elyn's lips, slow and teasing.
Elyn let out a soft sigh, the pain inside her now slowly quieted, replaced by something cold.
She turned her head to face the woman beside her.
"What do you want me to say, Hera?" she asked, voice dry with exhaustion.
"Why are you so obsessed with my past? The Order means nothing to me now."
Hera only smiled wider, lifting a single brow. "Oh yeah? Last I heard, one of the capt—"
Elyn's sharp glare cut her off before she could finish.
Hera held her hands up in surrender, laughing softly but saying no more.
With a grunt, Elyn swung her legs off the bed and sat at its edge,
*rustle!
running a hand through her tangled hair.
She then rose to her feet and walked toward her scattered clothes—bending to gather them piece by piece.
"I like what I see," Hera said playfully, her voice laced with amusement.
She remained stretched out across the bed, twirling a strand of her crimson-red hair with a lazy and devilish smile as she stared at Elyn's figure.
"Haha," Elyn said with a dry voice, strapping on her undergarments without looking back.
She moved with calm, practiced hands as she began putting on the rest of her gear.
*Rustle! *Buckle! *Click!
The belts and buckles of her leather armor clicked and tightened one by one, fitting snugly against her body. The armor, worn but reliable, held the scent of both travel and battles.
After adjusting the last strap, she crossed the room toward the corner, where her weapons rested.
One sword was carefully wrapped in cloth—its form veiled.
The other blade meanwhile was your everyday ordinary iron sword that you could get at any decent blacksmith.
She attached both weapons to her belt, one at each side.
Then, her boots struck the wooden floor with steady and deliberate steps as she made her way toward the exit, the sound echoing in the quiet room with subtle thuds.
"No goodbye kiss?" Hera called out, her voice smooth and teasing.
She rose slowly from the bed, her movements lazy yet graceful.
Her horns curled upward like a crown of bone, sharp and proud. She walked toward Elyn, her crimson eyes locked on her, a seductive smile playing on her lips.
When she reached her, Hera wrapped her arms tightly around Elyn, pressing her bare chest against her.
Her breath was warm as she leaned in close, her lips grazing the edge of Elyn's ear.
"Can you stay a bit longer?" she whispered, voice soft and seductive—almost pleading beneath the teasing tone.
Elyn remained still for a moment, then gently reached down and took hold of Hera's hand.
She moved it away without force, but firmly enough to make her answer clear. She stepped forward again, toward the door.
Her hand touched the handle.
*creak...!
She paused as the door creaked open, then turned her head slightly to glance back.
"Maybe next time," she said, her voice calm and firm.
With that, she stepped through and pulled the door shut behind her with a final
*Thud!
"Shame," Hera murmured to herself. She stared at the door for a few long seconds before raising her hand.
*SNAP!
With a casual flick of her finger, flames burst to life around her—wrapping her body in a swirl of heat and light.
In moments, the fire shaped itself into a deep red dress that hugged her form. She crossed her arms—her playful look fading into something colder—her expression narrowing.
"Sooner or later, you'll be mine, Elyn," she said, to herself, voice serious.
Then, with another snap of her fingers,
*SNAP!
a circle of fire opened in the air before her—a portal, pulsing with blistering heat.
On the other side, the familiar sight of Dravonia burned like an eternal furnace, its skies glowing with embers—its ground cracked and scorched.
Hera stepped forward, her heels clicking against the wooden floor as she walked through the flame portal.
The portal then swallowed her whole, and with a sudden rush of heat, it vanished behind her, leaving the room silent and empty once again.