Shadows of Forbidden Desire

Elara’s POV I slammed the ancient tome shut, the echo reverberating through the dimly lit study like a thunderclap in Luminara's enchanted woods. Sparks of residual magic danced across my fingertips, fizzling out as I cursed under my breath. Another failed incantation. At seventeen, my powers should have bloomed by now, but they teased me like elusive fireflies in the night. "Damn it," I muttered, pushing back from the oaken desk cluttered with glowing crystals and parchment scrolls. The mansion's study overlooked the misty forest, where ethereal lights flickered among the trees guardian spirits, Harlan always said. I didn't need reminders of the world's wonders; I needed my magic to obey. Footsteps approached from the hall, heavy and purposeful. Harlan my guardian, my everything pushed open the door, his broad frame filling the space. At forty-seven, he carried the weight of Luminara's arcane secrets in his gray eyes, now furrowed with concern. "Elara, what was that noise? Another experiment?" His voice was deep, laced with that protective edge I'd known since infancy. I spun in my chair, forcing a smile to mask my frustration. "Just practicing, Harlan. Nothing exploded this time." I stood, smoothing my simple gown, its fabric shimmering faintly with embedded runes. The room's air hummed with latent energy, the walls lined with shelves of forbidden texts that whispered temptations. He crossed the room in three strides, his silver-embroidered robes brushing the floor. "You push too hard. Magic isn't a race." His hand rested on my shoulder, warm and steady, sending an unintended spark through me not magical, but something deeper, forbidden. I met his gaze, those piercing eyes that had watched over me since he pulled me from the ruins of my mother's cataclysm. "But I want to be like you. Strong. In control." My words hung between us, laced with unspoken yearning. Harlan chuckled softly, but his grip tightened for a moment. "You already are, little one. Stronger than you know." He released me, stepping back as if sensing the shift in the air. "I forgot to fetch essence from the market. Thorne's coming for dinner, and I promised a proper spread." Thorne. Harlan's closest ally, the warlock who'd been a shadow in my life as long as I could remember. My pulse quickened at the thought. "You should've told me earlier. I could've gone into the city." He waved a hand, dismissing the idea. "No need. We'll summon takeout from the ether-vendors. Simple." He pulled an envelope from his robe pocket, slicing it open with a flick of his finger, minor telekinesis, effortless for him. "What's that?" I asked, leaning in and wrapping my arms around his bicep. His muscles flexed under my touch, a reminder of the power he wielded. "A grateful soul. Her essence flows strongly again after the ritual." He smiled down at me, pride evident. "Thorne's bringing his latest companion. Seraphina, I believe." Seraphina. The name soured in my mouth. Another fleeting enchantress in Thorne's parade. I tilted my head up, batting my lashes. "Just them tonight? Or did you invite someone else?" "I thought of inviting Mira, but her apprentices keep her busy." Harlan's current interest, a fellow mage with her own brood. I'd met her once stiff, commanding, treating me like a child. I disliked her instantly. "You sure? I could help with a summoning circle for ingredients. We'll finish before they arrive." He wrapped an arm around my shoulders, kissing the top of my head. "Takeout it is. Don't stress over my forgetfulness." I nodded, hugging his waist and pressing my cheek to his chest. His heartbeat was steady, reassuring. "Fine. I'll cleanse with a ritual bath then." He loosened his hold, and I gathered my notes, heading upstairs. The mansion's halls glowed softly with embedded crystals, casting a warm, otherworldly light. In my chamber, I shed my gown and stepped into the steaming bath infused with lunar essence. The water shimmered, reflecting the forest's glow through the window. As I sank in, my thoughts drifted to Thorne, his devilish grin, the way his presence made my core ache. Dreams of him between my thighs haunted me, amplified by the vibrator artifact I'd hidden, its vibrations mimicking forbidden touches. A knock startled me. "Elara? It's Thorne." My heart raced. I rose from the bath, water cascading off my skin, and let the towel slip away. Wet hair clung to my shoulders as I swung the door open, standing bare before him. He froze in the doorway, eyes dropping to my breasts, jaw clenching. "Elara... what are you doing?" I shrugged, feigning innocence. "Just finished my bath." The air between us crackled with unspoken magic. "You should cover up." But his gaze lingered, hungry. I cupped my breasts, tugging at my n*****s. "Do you like them, Thorne?" He cursed, running a hand through his dirty blond hair. "This is wrong. You're too young." "But you've seen me in ritual robes before. Answer me, do you like them?" He nodded, stepping closer. "f**k, yes." His hands replaced mine, squeezing gently. "We can't. If Harlan finds out..." I moaned as his mouth descended, sucking one n****e. "Touch me, Thorne. Please." He didn't hesitate, pulling me to him, his tongue swirling. I tangled my fingers in his hair, pressing him closer. His hands roamed down, cupping my ass, lifting me to straddle his thigh. I ground against him, the friction igniting sparks. "Dirty little sorceress," he growled, biting down. The ache built, but the front door's ethereal chime echoed Harlan returning. "Shit." Thorne pulled away, sucking one last time. "This stays between us. Promise." I nodded, smiling as he fled. Alone, I stepped back into the bath, fingers delving between my legs to finish what he'd started, whispering his name as waves crashed over me. Downstairs, I dressed in a flowing dress and joined them in the dining hall. Seraphina perched at the table, her red hair gleaming, eyes appraising me coolly. "You must be Elara. Thorne's told me so much." She extended a hand, but her smile didn't reach her eyes. "Nice to meet you," I replied, tone flat. I turned to Thorne, wrapping my arms around his neck. "Hi." He pulled me close, his body hard against mine. "Hey, little one." His hand pressed my lower back, grinding subtly. I tugged his hair, hips shifting. Harlan called from the kitchen, "Come in, everyone." Seraphina passed with a forced smile. Thorne pinched my waist. "Pretty dress," he whispered. I grinned, following. The hall's crystals pulsed softly, illuminating the spread of summoned feasts glowing fruits, ethereal wines. We sat, Seraphina across from Thorne, me beside him. As she droned about arcane office woes, my hand found his thigh under the table. "What about your day, Thorne?" I asked, squeezing. He tensed, but smiled. "Routine. Yours?" I pulled one knee up, draping the other over his lap. "Studies, then a bath." His hand cupped my knee, sliding up my thigh. Cherries from my bath lingered in the air. "What level are you?" Seraphina interrupted. "Apprentice. Seventeen." I kept my eyes on Thorne. Harlan stood. "Help with plates, Elara?" Thorne's hand withdrew as I rose, stacking dishes. In the living room later, we lounged on velvet couches, the forest's whispers faint through the windows. Harlan and Thorne discussed a recent ether-storm. I sat beside Harlan, legs tucked, arm along the back. His hand patted my thigh absently. I licked my lips, watching Thorne. "Excuse me," Thorne said, heading upstairs. Harlan turned to me. "You alright?" I leaned against him, taking his hand. "Stressed?" "A bit." He kissed my forehead. "I'll clean after they leave. You rest." He chuckled. "Angel." Thorne returned, nodding to Seraphina. "We should go." At the door, I hugged Thorne tight, bodies pressing. His hands stayed on my back barely. "Good night," he said, pushing away. After they left, I cleaned, then crawled into Harlan's bed. He stirred. "Elara?" "Can I sleep here?" "Of course." He brushed hair from my face. "Do you think Thorne likes Seraphina?" "Maybe. She's nice." I laughed. "Nice? She hates us." Silence. Then, "Hold me, Harlan?" He pulled me close, leg over his. His body responded subtly. "Good night," I whispered. But sleep evaded me. My hand tugged his shirt, fingers brushing skin. "Can't sleep?" "Not really." I interlocked my fingers. "You're pretty, you know that?" "Of course, little one. Prettiest I've seen." "I love you." "I love you too." His breath deepened, but I shifted, thigh brushing his hardening length. He adjusted, but the spark lingered. As dawn neared, a vision flickered dark shadows in the woods, a figure watching. Darius? No, just a dream. But the ache grew, and with it, a whisper of curse in the air. What if Harlan felt it too? And what if Thorne returned tomorrow, alone? The thought hung, unfinished, as sleep finally claimed me.