Chapter 9: Crown of Command
Elyra's chest heaved as she leaned against the throne of bone and bloodstone, the Ashen Heart's pulse syncing with her racing heartbeat. The greater beast's ashes settled around her, the cavern's red light casting jagged shadows across the obsidian walls. The crown on her head throbbed, its power seeping into her blood, amplifying the hunger that clawed at her insides.
The chains binding Zane, Cassian, and Theron glowed steadily, their shirtless forms tense beside her—Zane wiping blood from his axe, Cassian adjusting his stance with a smirk, Theron pressing a hand to his wounded shoulder. Their eyes burned with desire, locked on her sweat-soaked form, the tear in her trousers exposing more skin than she intended, and it stoked the fire she fought to control.
"Rest," she ordered, her voice firm despite the tremor in her legs. She sank onto the throne, the cold stone grounding her, the Heart resting in her lap. The men obeyed, dropping to their knees before her, their breaths heavy with exertion and unspoken need.
Zane's broad chest glistened with sweat and blood, his wound still seeping; Cassian's runes pulsed, his gaze predatory; Theron's jaw tightened, his restraint fraying. The cavern hummed, the air thick with magic, and a low growl rumbled from the shadows, signaling the next threat.
Before she could speak, the ground shook, and the cavern's far wall cracked open, revealing a horde of bloodwraiths—smaller than the priest's, but faster, their red eyes glinting with hunger. Elyra stood, her daggers flashing as she met the first wave, slashing through a wraith's chest.
The chains yanked the men into action—Zane's axe cleaved two at once, his roar shaking the chamber; Cassian's necrotic energy incinerated a cluster, black tendrils coiling; Theron's blade danced, cutting with lethal precision. But the wraiths swarmed, drawn to her blood, and one latched onto her arm, its claws digging deep.
Zane tore it off, his body slamming into hers as he hacked it apart, his chest pressing against her back, his breath hot on her neck. The contact ignited her—his hardness against her hip, his growl vibrating through her—and she gasped, shoving him off, her face flushing. "Stay focused," she snapped, but her voice trembled.
Cassian moved in, his magic flaring as he pinned a wraith, his hand sliding to her waist. "Let me ease you," he purred, his necromancy sending a wave of pleasure through her. She elbowed him, breaking free, but the sensation lingered, pooling low in her belly.
Theron shielded her, his blade cutting a wraith, his body brushing hers, his erection pressing against her thigh. "This is madness," he muttered, but his hands lingered on her shoulders, his breath ragged. The wraiths fell, their ashes scattering, and Elyra stumbled back to the throne, the Heart pulsing in her hands. The men gathered around her, their wounds bleeding, their eyes locked on her with raw need.
"You're bleeding again," Zane said, stepping closer, his hand hovering near her arm. The chain pulsed, allowing him to touch her, his rough fingers tracing the wound. The sensation shot through her, and she bit back a moan, her body alight. She grabbed his wrist, holding him there, her eyes challenging.
"Then heal me," she whispered, leaning into his touch. His growl turned to a groan, and he leaned down, his lips crashing against hers. The kiss was fierce, all teeth and hunger, his tongue claiming her mouth. Her hands gripped his shoulders, nails digging into his skin, and he pressed closer, his arousal hard against her thigh.
Cassian knelt before her, his hands sliding up her legs, pushing the torn fabric aside.
"My turn," he murmured, his magic pulsing, sending a shiver of pleasure through her. She tangled her fingers in his hair, yanking him closer, and he obliged, his tongue flicking against her inner thigh, teasing but not crossing the line. The sensation was electric, and she bit her lip to stifle a moan, the hunger driving her wild. Theron moved behind her, his hands resting on her hips, his breath warm against her neck.
"This ends us," he muttered, but his fingers kneaded her tense muscles, sliding down to brush the swell of her breasts. She arched into his touch, her body responding, and he groaned, his erection pressing against her back.
The Heart flared, its voice whispering, Command them, or fall. The hunger surged, and Elyra pushed the men back, standing. "Enough," she said, her voice shaky but firm. The crown pulsed, and the cavern's shadows parted, revealing a portal of swirling red light. She led the way, the Heart in her hands, the men following, their lust a chain she wielded.
The portal opened into a vast hall, its ceiling lost in darkness, its floor etched with runes that glowed under her blood.
At the hall's center stood a figure—a shadow king, its form towering, its crown matching hers, its eyes burning with malice.
"The Heart is mine," it boomed, raising a staff that pulsed with dark energy. The hall shook, and tendrils of shadow lashed out, striking at the group. Elyra ducked, her daggers flashing, and the chains yanked the men into action.
Zane's axe cleaved a tendril, Cassian's magic incinerated another, Theron's blade cut with precision. But the king's power was immense, and a wave of shadow energy knocked them back.
Elyra rolled to her feet, the Heart in her hands, and charged, her daggers aimed at the king's chest.
The men flanked her—Zane's brute force, Cassian's dark magic, Theron's skill—driving the king back. A tendril wrapped around her leg, yanking her down, and Zane tore it off, his body pressing against hers, his lips brushing her ear. "Hold on," he growled, his hand on her waist. Cassian's magic pinned the king's arm, his touch igniting her skin; Theron shielded her, his body close, his breath ragged.
The fight intensified, the king's staff striking Zane, sending him crashing into a wall. Elyra leapt, plunging her dagger into the king's side, and Cassian's magic flared, burning its chest. Theron's blade pierced its back, and with a final strike, the king fell, its form dissolving into ash. The hall fell silent, the portal closing, and Elyra stumbled to the center, the Heart pulsing. The men surrounded her, their desire a storm—Zane's growl, Cassian's smirk, Theron's shudder.
"You're ours now," Zane said, stepping closer, his hand on her cheek. The chain pulsed, and she leaned into him, the hunger consuming her. Cassian's hands slid to her hips, Theron's breath warmed her neck, and she knew the battle was far from over. The crown's power surged, and a new shadow stirred, the price of her dominion rising.