Kiara.
Her tears, glistening in the moonlight.
The orb, pulsing with power.
The choice she'd made, her hand closing around it as she turned away from him.
The memory shredded his arousal, his cock softening instantly, his stomach turning with a sickening lurch.
"Goddammit!" Lor yelled, flinging himself back onto the bed, the mattress creaking under his weight.
The bra tumbled from his hand, landing softly on the sheets beside him like a mockery, its delicate lace a stark contrast to the turmoil in his chest.
He lay there for a beat, staring at the cracked ceiling, his chest heaving once, twice, his breath uneven.
Then his gaze shifted to the corner of the room, drawn to the attic hatch—a small, unassuming panel in the ceiling, barely noticeable unless you knew where to look.
With a grunt, Lor pushed himself up, climbing onto his desk with a practiced ease.
