Ash himself was no drinker.
Well, he had never drunk before to his knowledge. Not in his life on Earth, not during the first cycle, and especially not in this one. So, as Elara stood shocked at the beauty of his face—her adaptive eyes widening, silver hair lengthening in flustered waves—he smirked and sat down on the plush shadow-silk cushions, wings folding neatly.
With a casual flex of his Creation Law, rose-pink light shimmered in his palm. A bottle of deep crimson wine materialized, in glass etched with subtle paradox runes, liquid swirling like captured starlight and blood.
Two crystal goblets followed, filling themselves with the rich, aromatic vintage—notes of eternal roses and forbidden desire.
He offered one to her.
"Wine?" he asked, voice low and teasing. "You can say I made it myself.... It should pair well with interesting company."
