His lips slowly came crashing down on her lips, and it was intense. The kiss struck her like a storm—rough and consuming—in a way that made it hard for her to catch her breath. She gasped against his mouth as she felt him part her lips, curling his tongue around her own with an aggressive tenderness that left her dazed.
His hands roved against her skin, fingers skimming over her waist, hips, and thighs like he was memorizing every inch of her. Her body stiffened, resisting, yet the sensations that curled deep within her belly doubled—an aching, twisting heat that only worsened as she clenched her jaw, stifling the moan threatening to escape.
Zyren realized. She could feel it in the slight tension in his hold, the way he lingered a second longer like he’d hoped for something more vocal. He didn’t show it on his face, but his displeasure simmered beneath the surface. Instead of pulling back, he merely shifted his kisses to her neck, trailing slow, burning paths along her skin before ripping off the thin cloth that clung tightly to her body.
The hunger in his eyes was undeniable—the raw desire reflected in the way his fingers dug into her waist, how tightly he clung to her body like he meant to brand her as his. In a single movement, he picked her up again and carried her back to the bed, dropping her against the sheets. He shed the robe he had on with no shame, no hesitation, no effort to hide the thick cords of muscle lining his body or the sharp ridges of his chest.
Aira, on the other hand, was burning. Her face flushed crimson, and the warmth spread all the way down to her chest and thighs. She tried to close her legs instinctively, shielding herself as best she could even as panic began to slowly take root inside her chest. Her heart raced. Her throat was dry. And all at once, she began to reconsider the bargain she had made.
The panic was subtle at first, but it began to build up quickly—intensifying with every breath she took as Zyren showed no intention of stopping. He dropped between her legs, parting them easily with his own thick, muscular thighs, lowering himself until their bodies were nearly fully joined together—flesh to flesh, heat to heat.
At that point, Aira couldn’t keep quiet any longer. The words tore out of her before she could stop them.
"Wa-wait!" she gasped, her voice trembling, as she felt Zyren’s fangs scrape gently against the side of her neck. He wasn’t just teasing her—he was hungry. The look in his eyes made that crystal clear. His gaze snapped back to her face, intense and unreadable, even as she pushed against his chest with shaking hands.
"What?" he asked. His voice was sultry and smooth, sliding over her skin like a caress. Almost too soft—almost like a passing breeze. But Aira’s hands were already trembling as she struggled to get the words out.
"One! One is not enough! I need two promises," she clarified, breathless, her chest rising and falling rapidly beneath him. She watched Zyren’s gaze darken—his red eyes flaring in a way she hadn’t seen before. The tension in his body was immediate.
The anger was sharp, cold, and unmistakable. It rolled off him in waves. He leaned back slightly, as if her words had burned him.
"You’re going back on your word."
"I’m not! I’m adding to it!" Aira shot back, her voice sharp with urgency even as her heart thundered in her chest like a drum. She was naked beneath him, vulnerable, and she could feel the weight of his stare raking over her bare skin. She hated the heat pooling in her stomach, hated that her own body wanted what her mind rejected.
Zyren stilled, his hands braced on either side of her, his expression unreadable. A tiny frown formed on the edge of his lips as he spoke next.
For a moment, neither of them said a word. And no matter how hard Aira tried to keep her eyes on his face, she couldn’t stop herself from catching sight of his thick, pulsing arousal pressed against her leg.
The sight only made the strange, traitorous sensations worse—so intense that she felt a sudden, humiliating urge to reach for him... to guide him into her even if she had to beg for it. She tried to scoot back, scrambling for space, but the moment she moved, Zyren leaned forward again, pressing into her until every inch of her was pinned beneath him.
Their faces hovered a breath apart. His voice dropped, low and cold.
"An empty check won’t do. I already gave you one... I won’t give you another."
"For the promise I already gave, you are aware that running away isn’t part of it, right?" he added, leaning closer still. His breath was warm against her ear as he slid his tongue along the shell of it, making her inhale sharply. Between her legs, she could feel her own slick wetness growing, and it humiliated her.
"My sister is a servant! I want her protected! I want her to become a normal person—with money, clothes of her own, a house and..." Aira began, trailing off as she caught the slight, amused smile that pulled at his lips.
"You want her to be wealthy and free?" he asked. Aira nodded quickly, the idea becoming more solid in her mind by the second.
If she and her sister were to run, they’d need resources. Safety. And her sister was the only one who could provide that.
"That’s what I want for the second promise. I don’t want her to remain here any longer!"
"You’re aware that she belongs to a hunter bloodline. If any of the lords find out, they’ll kill her on sight," Zyren warned. Aira held his gaze and nodded.
"Yes. But you’re going to protect her... aren’t you?" she asked. Her voice held a strange confidence—one she didn’t truly feel. She knew Zyren. He cared for no one. Not even himself. His kind of madness burned through everything in its path.
Zyren chuckled. The sound was low and dangerous. He leaned back—further than she expected—until there was a full foot of space between them.
"Protect her? Sure. I can do that," he said. His red eyes narrowed slyly.
"I’ll do it... but me sleeping with you isn’t going to be enough," he added, and a frown spread across Aira’s face. Her mind raced. She had nothing else to offer. No money. No magic. No strength. Just her body.
Until he spoke again.
"Lie flat on the bed and spread your legs. Eyes on me. I want you to touch yourself," he ordered, and the glow in his eyes was a dangerous red. One look told her that if she said no... if she disobeyed now... she wouldn’t like the consequences.