As he worked, his mind was clouded as Ein recalled the morning situation.
He stood alone after she'd gone, the chill of her presence lingering like fog across the floorboards.
But now that she had left, now that the fire of shame had cooled into the embers of stillness, something else rose.
What did she see? What did I see?
Ein moved toward the mirror again, almost unwillingly, like gravity drew him in. His reflection did not lie. It couldn't. He wasn't a boy anymore.
His shoulders had broadened overnight, his hips narrow and strong. His chest rose and fell with the calm control of someone used to deeper breath, deeper power. His neck was longer, his collarbones cut like sculpted stone. His skin was darker now, not with dirt or sun, but as if he'd been dipped in clay and dried by lightning.
And that hair—crimson, like coals left smoldering. It curled slightly at the ends, damp with sweat, falling over his forehead in streaks of warpaint.
He stared hard into his own eyes.
They were no longer warm gold, but something fierce and sovereign—bright molten gold, streaked with veins of red, like the last light of sunset caught in the eyes of a beast too old to be tamed.
This is what they feared, he realized. This is what they tried to crush out of me.
And yet, here he was. Not broken. Not bowed.
Becoming.
He reached up, palm flat to the glass, meeting his gaze as though speaking to someone buried beneath years of silence.
I am not yours.
Not theirs.
Not the Baron's.
Not even hers.
He drew in a breath, slow and deep. "I am what they buried. I am what she feared I would remember."
And just as the thought took full shape—just as the words "I am mine" sparked like fire behind his teeth— "Ein." The very name that snapped him from his memory. The name he hates
Emerald eyes stared up at him from just above the surface of the water, her wet lashes casting shadows down her cheeks. Her lips were parted, breath barely audible—but her focus was razor-sharp.
He blinked, breath catching. The sponge paused just beneath her knee. He hadn't realized how far he'd slipped into himself.
"I said…" Her voice was quieter now, but still pointed, still precise. "You're trembling. Why?"
His hands, soaked and stained with lavender milk water, held still over her skin. Ein forced his gaze down—and met hers.
She had seen something. Felt it.
He swallowed, the lie stalling at the edge of his tongue. "I'm not sure," he said softly. A pause. Then: "Yes, you are."
His hands tensed around the sponge. Steam curled around his shoulders. She tilted her head, just slightly. "You're… different. You feel different."
He looked away, not out of shame, but restraint.
"You noticed."
She exhaled once through her nose. Not a scoff. Not disbelief. Something more complicated. "I notice everything, Ein."
Her voice wrapped around his name differently now. Like she was testing it. Tasting it. Her leg shifted slightly in the water. It brushed his hand. Not entirely by accident.
"You've grown," she said after a beat. Her voice was quiet, velvety. "No… you've awakened."
The sponge fell from his hand, soundless beneath the water. Ein looked at her, then truly looked, and did not hide.
"I feel things I didn't before. As if something… old has opened inside me," he said, thinking about the pendant that was now a second heart in his body.
The pendant's warmth pulsed faintly beneath his skin, still nestled at his sternum like a buried heart. Her gaze dropped, briefly, as if she could see it through the skin.
A beat of silence. The only sound was water shifting, breath thickening.
Just for a heartbeat, the place where the pendant had vanished beneath his chest. Where his shirt clung damp and translucent to his skin. She stared at the ridges of muscle, the sharpness of him now. No longer a boy. Her mouth parted—just slightly.
"Come here," she said. A command. A plea, as the power inside him called to her.
He moved without hesitation. Getting close as he placed both arms to the rim right behind her and the side of the tub.
He leaned in, and their faces were close—too close. Her breath ghosted across his mouth. His hands hovered just above her shoulders, unsure if he was still allowed to touch her.
But then she reached—fist tangled in his shirt, dragging him forward until their lips crashed together.
It was not soft.
It was not sweet.
It was desperate.
Her mouth opened against his, and he groaned, the sound low and broken as heat surged through him. His right hand cupped her jaw. While the other still supported the tub.
She pulled back just enough to breathe, her lips swollen, eyes fierce.
"This isn't allowed," she whispered.
"I know," he rasped. "And you'll still do it."
"Yes."
"Will you do anything for me?" she said, a pause—charged, burning.
"Yes."
"Then prove it." He did.
Their mouths met again—more urgent this time—as he rose slightly, water splashing over the edge of the tub as her arms wrapped around his neck and pulled him into the bath, twisting to where Ein was sitting, legs fully extend, immersed in the water while she straddle him, pressed her naked body to him. Their lips never leave each other.
The heat engulfed him, soaking him instantly, but he didn't care. She pulled back again, her hands tore at the buttons of his shirt.
Breaking it open. Her hand all over his muscular body, as she counts his abs. Tracing the contractions of his muscles.
Ein is immersed in the pleasure, once startled, now confident, as he touches the beautiful woman sitting on top of him. Lifting, parting, exploring with reverent hunger.
The heat between them was unbearable, intoxicating. Her fingers gripped the back of his neck as his mouth moved lower, along her collarbone, then her chest, trailing open-mouthed kisses that burned hotter than the water surrounding them.
His left hand cupped her breast while the right grabbed on to her big round ass. As it was soft but firm. But thill moved with the consistency of jello. As he kneaded her flesh. He placed his lips on her round breast. And started sucking it.
"Ein…" she whispered—half a gasp, half a moan.
He froze.
Just for a moment. But in that moment, everything stopped—the water, the breath, the world.
His head lifted slowly, his golden-red eyes locking onto hers.
"No," he said, voice low, steady, unshakable. She blinked, lips parted. "What…?"
He leaned in closer, pressing his forehead to hers, his breath mingling with hers.
"That name isn't mine anymore," he said. "They gave it to me. You used it."
Her hands stilled on his skin.
"I am not Ein," he whispered. "Not now."
His eyes met hers—those molten gold irises streaked with red, fierce and radiant even in the dim steam—and she saw it. No hesitation. Not anger.
But rejection.
A tremor passed through her—not from fear, but from the sheer gravity of the moment. As if realization hit her, something old and sleeping within him had just spoken its first true word.
"Then… who are you?" she breathed.
He drew her closer, his hands now sliding along her waist under the water, fingers pressing into her like he was grounding himself in her shape, her heat, her reality.
"Aurian."
The name dripped from his mouth like honey over fire.
Ellanior shivered.
It didn't just feel like a name. It felt like a spell, like a forbidden word the world itself had once forgotten.
She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, holding him close. Her legs squeezed tighter long his waist, her heart thundering beneath her ribs.
"Auran," she repeated reverently.
His mouth found hers again, rougher now, hungry.
"Yes," he growled against her lips. "Say it again."
And she did—again and again, a chant between moans and gasps, until it was the only thing she remembered. Until it was who he was.
Until nothing else remained but his name, his power, and the fire they'd ignited between them—one that would never be extinguished.
Her moan was soft, but desperate. His name left her lips again.
Her breath trembled against his ear, body slick and trembling beneath him, every part of her molded to his rhythm. The moan that escaped her lips was no longer that of a commanding noblewoman, but of a woman unraveled.
He groaned, the sound low and dangerous, and pulled away just long enough to let her see the hunger in his eyes. Not only for her body, but her acceptance of what he had become.
Her hands fumbled with the soaked fabric of his shirt. "Off," she breathed.
He didn't hesitate. He rose slightly, peeling the clinging shirt from his frame. It came off slow, heavy with water, as it slumped to the floor with a thud.
Aurian stood up, breaking away from the baroness, and pulled down his soaked pants, struggling a little as they tried to form to his body. But he was able to remove them, throwing them to the side of the tub.
Ellanior's breath trembled as she looked—not Ein's, not anymore. "Aurian" her mouth mouthed as she took in the full extent of his member.
The large blackened rod twitched with vigor. As it flopped straight down towards the water.
Aurian sank back down to the water, sitting back in the same position as before. The baroness did the same, straddling him along his lower waist. But her eyes never left it.
The heat between her thighs, getting hotter. "It's bigger than Christian's," she said, comparing the size to the barons.
Aurian, taking her out of her thoughts, grabbed the back of her neck and waist, pulling her in for another kiss.
This caused his member to fully stand up, resting along his midsection. Picking at the baroness' stomach. She moaned, fingers tangling in his crimson hair, her nails grazing down his back. "You're burning," she gasped.
One hand cradled the back of her neck, fingers threading gently through the wet silk of her auburn hair. The other slid lower, beneath the surface, where the warm water masked his movements until she felt him—there—between her legs.
Her breath broke. A single sharp sound, dragged from her throat as his fingers parted her folds with deliberate slowness.
"I am fire now," he murmured into her skin, voice thick with restraint. "And you're feeding it."
His power surged at her gasp, reacting to her pleasure. The magic in the air sharpened, spun faster, twisting with the rhythm of their bodies. It didn't just heat the water. It poured into her lungs, soaking her thoughts. Every brush of skin, every kiss, every groan rippled through the steam like a tide of sensation.
Feeling her move along his member, he gripped her hips, holding her steady as he kissed her again, deeper now, hungrier. His tongue slid past her lips, claiming her mouth like a man starved. And still, the scent intensified. Their mingling desire became tangible, curling into the walls, the water, and them.
As she rubbed against it. Electricity shot up her body. Reacting in a way she did not know before.
Her petite nipples are full and erect. Causing her to go faster, creating waves in the tub of water.
Her breaths grew ragged. Her moans are louder. And still, it wasn't just lust—it was awakening.