Chapter 60
Kai
MA VIE
It’s our turn to head toward the exit, but instead of following the rest of the crowd, we slip the other way–down the left hallway that leads to the forgotten staircase.
We’re laughing too loudly, stumbling just enough to sell the act.
Drunk on each other, or at least that’s how it looks.
Just two love-struck idiots, lost in the glitter and nonsense of the ball.
For her? Maybe, I hope not, because for me, there’s no act.
Not when she tilts her head back like that, eyes sparkling under that soft, candlelight.
Not when her freckles catch the glow, a constellation I’m supposed to read, losing myself in the stars.
The mission’s waiting, but if I could freeze time, I’d choose this moment, this hallway, her.
We finally reach the General’s wing. No guards in sight; half of them are still caught up in the ball.
The rest are posted outside or deployed, watching for threats.
I twist the handle after quietly disarming the safety runes, a flick of my blade across my palm, a whispered word.
The enchantment hums, then dies, a perk of sharing the same DNA.
Pushing the door open, we step inside. The panel clicks shut, heavier than it should.
Purpose guides our fingers as they trace the carved wood and stone.
Eyes hunting for latches, hinges, anything hidden in the bones of this place.
There’s no time for distractions, but Kvirr, Vi is gravity, and I’m already falling.
That dress should be illegal. The open back reveals the hard lines of muscle she’s earned through endless training.
With her cherry-red curls tumbling over her shoulders, I nearly lose it.
Thank Kvirr, the front is modest, but still enough to promise trouble, hugging her beautiful curves.
Focus, for fuck sake.
Avilyna steps toward a painting behind the desk, curiosity sharp.
As she leans in, I force my pulse to calm.
I push thoughts of her bare skin and the way she moved on the dance floor to the back of my mind.
We’re here for answers. Vi tilts her head, staring at the oil painting hanging behind the General’s desk.
It’s a sombre portrait of one of our ancestors, eyes as chipped ice, posture stiff with old pride, but something’s off.
She steps closer, her fingers gliding lightly along the carved frame.
“There’s magic here,” Avilyna whispers, barely loud enough for me to hear.
You can smell it in the air, that musty aroma specific to enchantments.
Except that this one has a hidden spicy note that stings your nose and makes you slightly dizzy with nausea.
It almost smells like…sulfur. I move to her side.
“It’s subtle, old. Hidden in the wood.” Vi adds inspecting the canvas.
No wonder it didn’t trigger anything under the unravel spell; it’s a curse.
I press a hand to the wall just beside the frame, brushing along the edges of the canvas until I feel it; warmth beneath the surface. A pulse, faint as a heartbeat.
“There,” Avilyna says, voice sharp, pointing to a worn scuff in the stone. Not a flaw, an ancient rune.
I’ve seen it once, buried in the forbidden texts my father kept locked tight.
I trace the symbol carefully. The mark flickers beneath my fingertips, then fades with a low, humming breath.
Suddenly, a crushing weight clamps my chest down.
My lungs seize up, air ripped away as if it’s been stolen.
I stagger, vision blurring. Panic claws through me.
Avilyna’s hands grab me fast, steadying me, but her eyes are wild with panic.
“Kai! Breathe, just breathe!”
But I can’t, I’m choking from the inside, a strong something is blocking my airway.
Desperation claws at my throat; nothing works, and I cough red.
Without a second thought, Avilyna pulls a dagger that was strapped to her thigh, slicing her palm fast and deep.
Her blood drips hot over the damned rune.
The stone shivers, then roars to life, the mark flaring, catching on fire.
Then, air hits my lungs, and I’m gasping, clutching my chest, eyes locked on her as the burning sensation slowly subdues, and air is allowed in.
“…Thanks,” I say roughly, barely more than a breath. Avilyna nods, then she slowly smiles.
“Now we’re even.”
At that, I let out a ragged laugh that quickly turns into a cough.
Looking over my shoulder, I grab the handkerchief that was neatly folded on the desk and wrap it around her wound.
The painting shifts with a low, grinding groan.
Behind it, a hidden compartment with a wall-mounted safe, lined in blackened steel, etched in ancient script that pulses with faint light.
“This is it,” Avilyna murmurs, casting a glance at me over her shoulder, feeling every nerve. Stepping forward, I gently massage her neck as I mutter the incantation, slowly easing under my touch. With a drop of blood, I press my cut to the ward. The runes flicker, then fade.
A soft click, and the lock gives in. Pulling the door open, golden light spills out, heavy and humming with power.
Stacks of coins, Elveronian gold and small velvet pouches filled with precious stones.
Each is marked with royal crests or trade seals that haven’t been seen in decades.
Wealth enough to bribe the whole city. But that’s not what makes Avilyna gasp.
At the center of it all lies a letter, sealed with black wax.
Another spell, and as I analyze it, I see that the pattern is actually too sharp to be a rune.
A sigil—Vordak’s mark is pulsing faintly, almost as if it’s breathing.
“That’s a sigil,” she murmurs.
I hum in agreement and add. “It’s not just a seal, it’s a defensive hex.
” Vi’s gaze sharpens, her expression icing over.
Without hesitation, she pulls the makeshift bandage from her hand and wraps the letter in it with care, slipping it into her purse.
A direct link between the General and something far worse than politics or greed.
“I think we just found our proof,” she says quietly.
“Yes, and maybe some answers,” I add, but then, I hear footsteps. Echoing down the hall beyond the door, patrols. My training snaps into place.
“Someone’s coming,” I hiss, already reaching for the edge of the safe.
In one swift motion, I slam it shut. The rune resets with a low vibration just as the painting slides back to place, wiping any trace of what we’ve found.
Avilyna turns to me, her mouth parting, about to ask something, but I don’t give her time.
Catching her by the waist, I spin to press her back to the desk, my body firmly against hers.
My frustration’s been simmering way too long, and it ignites in an instant.
She gasps softly, surprised, and that’s her mistake.
Because I want to devour that sound. I want to bury it deep in my throat and never give it back, so I kiss her.
Not gently.
Not like a cover, but like she’s the only oxygen I’ve ever breathed.
Her fingers twist into my collar. Whether it’s instinct or something that’s been burning between us for far too long, she kisses me back as she means it, and the room melts away.
The air thickens with heat, adrenaline and the taste of her.
My hand stays firm against her skin, the other braced on the edge of the desk.
My frame hides her from any wondering eyes, locked in this illusion, except it’s not.
And we both know it. The door creaks open.
I don’t completely pull back, just enough to whisper against her lips.
“Don’t move.”
Heavy boots cross the floor, slow and unhurried. A voice murmurs, amused. “Figures,” one snorts. “Brackwell always did know how to use a desk.” A low chuckle, then fading footsteps. The door clicks back shut behind them.
The silence that follows is heavier than any secret.
I don’t move right away; the moon glinting from the window behind casts an ethereal shadow over her.
Making her look like the Goddess she is.
Avilyna doesn’t move either; her breath is warm against my jaw, and right now there’s only her and me.
And the way we’re still clinging to each other as if the world might fall if we let go. Then she exhales a shaky laugh.
“Was that part of the plan?”
I rest my forehead against hers, lips still tingling.“When is it not part of the plan, Princess?”
She doesn't answer, just tilts her head slightly, lips brushing mine again. Less out of strategy this time, and more because maybe neither of us wants to stop. I devour her mouth, slowly, like she’s the only thing that will ever sustain me.
And it swiftly becomes not enough, I want more—I need more.
Lifting her, Avilyna sits on the desk, and I stand between her legs, my hand lost in her curls while the other holds her by the throat.
Needing to feel her life coursing through her veins, the small pulse, anchoring me while my lips travel down her neck.
Dancing with her moans as they get louder, kissing, licking my way to the small, sensitive nipple of her breast. Biting through the fabric, leaving her gasping, my name.
“Yes, my Vi,” I murmur, my voice rough. Drawn from the way she looks at me, eyes half-lidded and burning with something deeper than just desire.
My Vi.
Ma vie–my life
That, she is.
“I want more…” Her voice is barely a whisper.
“Please.” She doesn’t have to ask twice.
With a quiet smile, I oblige. Giving her more of the sweetness she’s aching for.
The claw scar on her right shoulder makes her look fiercer and more dangerous than any warrior.
A danger that makes me forget everything but to worship her.
With a rough pull, I reveal one of her beautiful breasts, tempting me with her brown, peaked nipples, and my mouth closes on it without hesitation.
Avilyna throws her head back and spreads her legs wider, resting her heels on the extremity of the desk.
Giving me a perfect view of her wet center, and she’s not wearing any underwear.
I slip my hand behind her back, bringing her forward, and, in one fluid motion, I turn her onto her stomach.
Hips against the desk while I flatten my chest against her spine.
My erection fits perfectly against the curve of her ass, making me groan.
“You’re bad…” I tsk in her ear while my fingers pinch one of her nipples, twisting it and making her breathless. My canines grazing her neck, leaving goosebumps in their wake as I nibble at the tender skin.
“W-why?” Avilyna gasps.
“No underwear. Do I need to punish you, little terror?” Panting her answer while I keep torturing her.“Have you seen this dress… You expect me to wear underwear with it?” Feisty till the end, lifting the silk fabric with my other hand, I uncover her perky ass.
“Excuses, excuses,” I whisper against her ear before leaving her space to let my palm bite the softness of her skin, branding what’s mine.
Gasping, Vi’s breath turns into moans as my mouth erases the assault.
I repeat the gesture three more times because she was a brat, for the simple fact that I love seeing her ass jiggle.
And simply because she’s mine, my little terror, ma vie.
And Avilyna loves it, dripping wet for me, her scent intoxicating, making me groan possessively.
“Has anyone ever tasted you?”
“N-no,” she hesitates, looking at me shyly over her shoulder, and this is enough to undo me.
“Good,” I growl, licking her slit up and down in one longorus stroke, relishing in her shivers. Before I devour her, after all, I’m a starving man when it comes to her.
At first, she screams my name indignantly when I lick her tight little hole, but I’m known for being persistent, and her protests melt into soft, lingering exhales.
And needy gasps as I savour my favourite meal.
Nothing is left untouched, I lick, nibble and tease all of her.
My fingers join the heated dance as I give her time to accommodate one, then two, curling slightly to rub her warmth.
Pulsing in and out in rhythm with her hips, quickening my pace as Avilyna starts bucking, feeling her getting closer to the edge.
I start to pull away, and Vi lets out a reluctant protest. But I don’t let the warmth between us fade.
With one sweep, I clear the desk, papers and trinkets scattering to the floor, before pushing her onto the polished wood so she can rest on her elbows.
“Eyes on me, Princess,” I whisper against her pussy. My voice is a low command that makes her shiver. Then my mouth finds her core, and she breaks apart, screaming.
Music to my ears.