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Morning bled into the dim apartment in thin bands of light through the curtains. The air was still warm from the night before, the sheets tangled halfway down the bed, her scent lingering everywhere.
Ravyn was still in my arms, her bare skin pressed against me, my hands resting lazily along the curve of her waist. I wasn't even fully awake when the chime sounded in my head.
[System Notification: New Ability Unlocked — Zor Manipulation (Stage 1)]
The words floated in my vision, faintly glowing before fading into the edges of my thoughts. Zor? I could feel it—some faint current under my skin, like static waiting to be shaped.
I was still trying to focus on it when she stirred.
"Mmm…" Her voice was husky with sleep, her hair spilling across my chest in a dark tangle. Her leg slid against mine, and she looked up with a lazy smirk. "You're staring off like you've seen a ghost."
"Its nothing," I muttered, still half-distracted.
She stretched, arching just enough for her chest to press against me. "Well? Do you think I made up for leaving you last night?"
Her grin told me she already knew the answer.
I exhaled, glancing away. "You… put in some effort."
She laughed, the sound low and amused, before tilting her head. "So… what took you so long to get out of the palace anyway?"
My stomach tightened. I could feel her eyes on me, sharp despite her playful tone. "It's… complicated."
Her eyebrow arched. "Complicated like… you were with the princess?"
Her words were light, teasing—until I didn't answer.
The silence was enough. Her smirk flattened into something unreadable.
"I see," she said, pushing herself up without bothering to grab the sheets. The morning light caught on every line and shadow of her bare form, but the heat in her expression had cooled.
"So…" She shifted in my lap, the movement unhurried, deliberate. Her arms folded under her chest, lifting her breasts just enough to draw the eye—like she knew exactly where my attention would go. "You were in the princess's bed. All night."
Her voice wasn't accusing. Not yet. Just curious… but sharpened at the edges.
"That's not—" I started, sitting up straighter, but she cut me off with a single, slow raise of her hand.
"Don't."
The word landed soft, but it carried weight. Her eyes held mine, studying me the way a cat studies something it's deciding whether to toy with or kill.
I felt my throat tighten. My hand came up to drag across my face, buying time I didn't have. Heat prickled at the back of my neck. "It's not what you think—"
"Oh, I'm sure it's exactly what I think." She rose from the bed with the sort of grace that was less like walking and more like claiming space. The sheet slipped away from her without her so much as glancing down, leaving nothing to the imagination.
The light from the window caught the curve of her hip, tracing it in gold. She didn't rush to cover herself. She didn't need to. Her silence and bare skin did all the talking she wanted.
I sat there, elbows resting on my knees, watching her cross the room. Every sway of her hips was slow, controlled—meant to keep me looking. Meant to make me feel the distance stretching between us.
She stopped at the window, resting one palm against the frame, looking out over the street below. Her head tilted slightly, as though the view interested her more than me.
But I could tell by the tension in her shoulders—subtle, but there—that she was still listening. Waiting.
"I didn't…" I began, my voice rough. "It wasn't like that."
She let out a short, humorless laugh under her breath. "You think I care what it was like?" She turned her head just enough for me to see her profile, her mouth curved in something that might have been a smile… or a warning. "You think the details matter?"
"They do," I said quietly. "To me, they do."
Her gaze flicked over her shoulder, meeting mine for half a heartbeat. Then she faced forward again. "Your face says more than your mouth ever could."
I shifted, the bed creaking under me. "Ravyn—"
"No," she cut in, her tone silk over steel. "You don't get to say my name like that right now."
The air between us thickened, filled with things unsaid. She stood there in the morning light, every line of her body open and unguarded, yet she felt miles away.
And somehow, I knew this wasn't the end of the conversation. Not even close.
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I stood slowly, the floorboards cool beneath my feet. She didn't turn to watch me approach; she stayed at the window, one arm braced on the frame, the curve of her spine catching the morning light.
When I reached her, I slipped my arms around her waist from behind, feeling the warmth of her skin against mine. She stiffened for half a heartbeat, then let out a quiet exhale as I pulled her back against me.
Without a word, I turned her gently, my hands settling at her hips. Her eyes met mine—still guarded, still testing—but she didn't pull away when I lifted her into my arms. Her legs hooked around my waist with practiced ease, her fingers curling into the back of my neck.
I carried her to the bed, lowering us until she was straddling me, her hair falling like a dark curtain around us. The faint scent of her skin filled the air—warm, faintly sweet, intoxicating.
As she moved against me, I let my voice slip in, quiet, almost casual. "Ravyn… what's Zor?"
She paused just enough for me to feel it—hips stilled, eyes narrowing slightly, a flicker of curiosity breaking through the tension. Then she leaned in, her breath warm against my ear.
"Mmm…" she murmured, her tone slipping into something softer, more indulgent. "Zor… is the current that mages draw from. Not magic itself, but the pulse beneath it. The energy we tap into for our techniques."
Her words came with a slow roll of her hips, punctuating the explanation in a way that made it hard to focus on anything else.
"Why?" she asked, voice low, teasing, her lips brushing the line of my jaw. "Why are you asking me about that now?"
I gave her the faintest smile, keeping my tone light. "No reason in particular… just heard it somewhere."
She searched my face like she didn't quite believe me… then smirked and let the subject drop, choosing instead to pull me back into her rhythm, her earlier irritation melting into something else entirely.
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