The words lingered, low and dangerous, echoing off the scorched walls of the ruined theater. Carla’s chest heaved as she bit her lip raw, Lyra’s fists trembled with unspent rage and lust, and Crimora, sprawled still trembling in the afterglow of being chosen twice, smiled faintly in her broken pride.
Kael didn’t wait for a response. He pulled his trousers back into place, his grin cutting deep as his eyes swept them one by one. Then he turned his back and strode toward the shadowed corridor, leaving them drenched in sweat, throats raw from moans and begging, their bodies trembling with denied desire.
For a long stretch, silence clung to the ruined hall, broken only by the faint crackle of Crimora’s lingering flames and the distant groans of the undead beyond the boarded doors.
Then Carl
