Chapter 3: The Heart's Call
The mist in the Ashen Ruins clung to Elyra's skin as she stumbled through the archway, her leg aching from the shadowbeast's claw marks. The fight had left her trousers torn, blood streaking down her thigh, and the Ashen Heart shard in her pocket pulsed harder, guiding her deeper into the cursed labyrinth. Behind her, Zane's heavy breaths rasped, his shirtless chest slick with sweat and beast blood, his axe dripping. Cassian moved silently to her right, his runes glowing faintly on his bare torso, his eyes glinting with that dangerous mix of charm and menace. Theron trailed last, his lean frame tense, sword in hand, his gaze fixed on her wound like it was a beacon.
The corridor narrowed, the walls closing in, etched with blood-red runes that pulsed in time with the shard. Elyra's head throbbed, her cursed blood reacting to the magic, and she gritted her teeth against the pull.
The men's presence was a constant pressure—Zane's raw power, Cassian's seductive magic, Theron's quiet intensity—all drawn to her like moths to a flame. She could feel their eyes on her, lingering on the sweat beading on her neck, the curve of her hips under the torn fabric. She'd use that. She had to.
"Where's this damn Heart?" Zane growled, his voice cutting through the silence. He wiped blood from his chest, his muscles flexing, and stepped closer, his heat brushing her arm.
"Close," she said, keeping her tone sharp. "The shard's pulling me." She didn't mention the voice she'd heard in her mind during the fight—a low, commanding whisper promising power. Not yet. She needed to test these men first.
Cassian's laugh was a dark ripple. "Pulling you, or pulling us?" He moved to her side, his fingers grazing her arm where the blood had dried, and a shiver of unwanted heat shot through her. His necromancy teased her senses, stirring a pulse between her legs. She jerked away, glaring.
"Keep your hands off," she snapped, but her voice trembled, the sensation lingering. He smirked, undeterred, his eyes tracing the tear in her trousers.
Theron's voice broke the tension, cold and wary. "The Ruins are alive. That shard's waking something." He pointed ahead, where the corridor opened into a vast chamber, its center dominated by a pedestal. On it, the Ashen Heart glowed, a jagged mass of obsidian and crimson veins, its power humming through the air.
Elyra's breath caught. This was it—the full relic, not just a fragment. Her blood sang, urging her forward, but the men tensed, their instincts kicking in. Zane's hand tightened on his axe, Cassian's runes flared, Theron's sword rose. She ignored them, stepping toward the pedestal, her wound throbbing with each step.
The moment her fingers brushed the Heart, the Ruins shuddered, stones cracking overhead. Shadows exploded from the walls—bloodwraiths, their red eyes locked on her, claws slashing. Elyra ducked, slashing with her daggers, the blade sinking into a wraith's chest. Black blood sprayed, hitting her face, and she spat, rolling to avoid another strike. The fight was chaos—Zane's axe cleaved through two at once, his roar echoing, Cassian unleashed a blast of necrotic energy that incinerated a cluster, and Theron's blade danced, cutting tendons with precision.
But the wraiths kept coming, drawn to her blood.
One lunged, its claws raking her leg again, tearing deeper into the earlier wound. She cried out, dropping to one knee, and Zane was there, his body slamming into hers as he hacked the wraith apart. The impact pressed her against the pedestal, his chest hard against her back, his breath hot on her neck. She felt his arousal, thick and undeniable, and her own body betrayed her with a surge of heat. She shoved him off, panting, but the contact lingered.
Cassian moved in, his magic flaring as he pinned another wraith with skeletal hands. His free hand slid to her waist, steadying her, and his lips brushed her ear. "Let me heal you," he murmured, his voice a velvet threat.
The necromancy pulsed, amplifying the pain into a twisted pleasure, and she elbowed him hard, breaking free. "Not your toy," she gasped, but her skin burned where he'd touched.
Theron took a hit, a wraith tackling him against the pedestal.
Elyra reacted, leaping onto the creature, her dagger plunging into its skull. She landed atop Theron, their bodies pressed together, his hands gripping her thighs, his erection pressing against her. His breath hitched, his eyes locking with hers—raw, desperate need flashing before he masked it. She rolled off, her face flushing, but the moment fueled her resolve.
The wraiths fell, their ashes scattering, and the Heart pulsed louder, its light bathing them in red. Elyra stood, her leg bleeding freely now, the men surrounding her.
Zane's chest heaved, his gaze locked on her torn trousers, hunger blatant. Cassian licked his lips, his magic stirring again, ready to push her limits. Theron wiped blood from his face, his jaw tight, but his eyes betrayed a deepening obsession.
"Take it," Zane said, stepping closer, his voice a growl. "But I'm claiming you with it." His hand hovered near her hip, the chain of desire between them tightening.
Cassian smirked, circling her. "Share her, warlord. Her blood's too sweet to waste." His fingers twitched, magic coiling, ready to bind her in a different way.
Theron's voice was a low rumble. "She's a curse. But I can't walk away." His hand brushed her arm, a fleeting touch that sent a shiver through her.
Elyra laughed, harsh and defiant. "You want me? Prove it. Help me claim this, and maybe I'll let you taste what you're chasing." She pressed her bleeding hand to the Heart, its surface rippling under her touch. The relic flared, and the voice returned, clearer now: Claim me, and they are yours.
The men froze, their desire a tangible force, their bodies straining toward her. The Ruins trembled, and more shadows stirred in the corners—bigger, darker threats awakening. Elyra's grip tightened on her daggers, her mind racing. This was her game, but the stakes had just skyrocketed. She turned to the men, her gaze challenging, ready to bend them to her will—or break them trying.