The ritual had begun again.
Lor knelt on the wooden floor, posture straight, expression composed as the flickering candlelight played across his face, casting shadows that danced over his tousled black hair and hazel eyes.
Before him hovered the silver coin—smooth, pristine, suspended in the air without a single tremble, its gleam catching the lantern's glow.
His eyes were shut, but his brow furrowed in deep concentration, as though channeling something ancient, something not quite human, his average build tense with the weight of the performance.
Then—his eyes opened, hazy and distant, as if peering from another realm.
The coin slowly rotated in place between him and the two girls kneeling opposite him on the floor, the air thick with anticipation.
Nellie sat with her thick thighs pressed together, her panties shifting under her tight pants, her small breasts rising and falling with nervous breaths, freckles dotting her flushed cheeks like scattered stars.
