Night cloaked the castle, but the heat between Lyra and Kael burned hotter than any torch.
The chamber they had chosen as their refuge was safe… for now.
The glow of the lotus still hovered above the stone table, bathing them in golden and silver light.
Lyra let her fingers trace lines across Kael's chest.
He closed his eyes at the touch, the fire sparking from her fingertips climbing all the way to his heart.
"I've been waiting for you," he whispered, voice rough and thick with desire.
"No other woman, no other magic draws me like you do."
She leaned in, and their lips met in a kiss that asked for nothing and took everything.
There was no softness—only urgency.
Every caress pulled muffled moans from their throats; every sigh sparked golden light that danced through the room.
Kael gripped her by the waist, pulling her against him, feeling her desire answer his.
Lyra arched her back, pressing her breasts to his chest, releasing a surge of energy that made the stone beneath them tremble.
Their tongues met—playful, dominant.
Lyra's magic mingled with Kael's, running through their veins, igniting waves of pleasure neither could contain.
"Every touch… every look…" Kael gasped, groaning as his hands slid beneath her robe.
"It consumes me… traps me…"
She answered with her own moan, rolling her hips against him, letting him feel the heat rising between her thighs.
The air was thick with electricity and breathless gasps, with magic that refused to be contained.
Lyra's hands roamed over Kael's torso, marking him with desire and possession.
He answered with a firm push, lifting her and setting her on the stone table, brushing against her body with every deliberate, yet wild, movement.
The golden lotus trembled.
Energy wrapped around them—a mix of pleasure and power that made them feel almost invincible… yet dangerously exposed.
"We… can't stop," Lyra whispered between kisses, her fingers tangling in Kael's hair.
"And I don't want to."
Kael's grip tightened, his hands claiming every curve of her body with hunger and worship.
Their breaths mingled, every moan a hymn echoing through the chamber's walls.
Time ceased to exist.
Every stroke, every brush of skin was a dance of flame and temptation.
Magic shimmered in golden sparks, rising from their bodies and spilling into the air.
But just as the peak of their union neared, a sharp sound echoed at the door—footsteps.
"We're not alone," Kael murmured, his dark eyes now sharp with alertness.
Lyra pulled back slightly, breath ragged.
Pleasure still throbbed in her skin, tangled with the rush of adrenaline.
Her hands glowed with golden sparks, ready to defend what they had just shared.
The door creaked open.
A tall, hooded figure stepped into the frame, watching them in silence.
Lyra's heart skipped a beat.
"The trial," the figure whispered, a smile curling beneath the hood, "has only just begun."
And with that, the lotus's light flickered and died for a heartbeat, leaving the chamber in shadows—two lovers now at the mercy of danger.