Nathan watched Freja’s figure disappear beyond the doorway, her cloak rippling once in the faint breeze before the night swallowed her.
His eyes lingered for a mont longer than necessary.
She really was remarkable.
After two years in a world that devoured innocence and blurred the very aning of trust, Freja still thought of her classmates—still wanted to protect them. That kind of loyalty was rare, almost naïve, and yet... admirable.
Nathan couldn’t imagine doing the sa.
His own classmates had once mocked him, discarded him, treated him like filth. Even now, when their faces occasionally surfaced in his mories, all he felt was cold detachnt. There were exceptions, of course—but not many.
He exhaled quietly and turned away from the door.
One presence was missing.
"Where’s Servilia?" he asked, his tone even, though his gaze sharpened slightly.
"She’s sleeping upstairs," Elin answered, still busy collecting her healing tools.
Nathan nodded and started toward the staircase. But before he could take a step, a small, trembling hand caught his sleeve.
"W...wait, Lord Nathan," Ariah said quickly.
He turned to her, one eyebrow slightly raised. "Sothing else?"
Ariah hesitated. The firelight caught the faint shimr of uncertainty in her red eyes. She knew that if she let him go now—if he went upstairs to Servilia—they might end up alone together again. Servilia already had a place in Nathan’s heart, a close one as she had sex with him. The rest of them... didn’t.
If she was going to speak, it had to be now.
"Elin told us," Ariah began, her voice small.
Nathan frowned. "Told you what?"
Ariah’s hands twisted together in her lap. "That... sothing happened between you and Freja, back at Servilia’s house."
The silence that followed was heavy. Nathan’s expression didn’t change, but the air seed to tighten around them.
"I see," he said after a pause, his gaze flicking toward Elin. "And that’s all she told you?"
Elin swallowed hard, unable to et his eyes. He was clearly speaking about the mont she caught him fucking Servilia.
Ariah and Auria looked at her expectantly, but she only blushed, her lips parting in mute confusion.
Ariah drew in a shaky breath and lifted her chin. Her heart was hamring, but she t Nathan’s gaze directly now. "I... I love you, Lord Nathan," she said, her voice trembling but sincere. "And it’s not just . Auria, Freja and Elin feel the sa."
Elin flinched, her face flushing bright red. She wanted to deny it but no words managed to co out.
Nathan sighed softly, his expression unreadable. "Ariah... this isn’t the ti," he said. His tone was gentle but firm. "We’ll talk about this later."
"No," Ariah said quickly, surprising even herself with the strength in her voice. "Now is the ti. I know my sister is more beautiful, more powerful, more deserving—but that doesn’t an we don’t have a place too."
"Don’t compare yourself to Azariah," Nathan said. "You don’t need to. Each of you has sothing that makes you... distinct."
Ariah blinked, caught off guard by the faint warmth in his tone.
"All that matters," he continued, "is that you are all... remarkable won."
For a mont, silence fell between them. Ariah’s pulse quickened. His words—calm, deliberate, and sincere—felt heavier than any flattery. He didn’t speak lightly, and when he said they were charming, she knew he ant it.
Ariah hesitated once more, then took a small step closer, her voice barely above a whisper. "Then... let us stand beside you. Let us help you."
Nathan frowned slightly. "Help ? With what?"
He knew they weren’t warriors; their strength wasn’t in the field. But the earnestness in her tone told him she ant sothing else entirely—sothing deeper, more personal.
Ariah’s blush deepened, and her voice faltered. "Not in battle," she said quickly. "But... in other ways. The sa way Freja did."
Nathan’s eyes narrowed slightly in understanding.
His gaze drifted toward Elin, who quickly turned away, pretending to focus on the cracks that lined the stone floor. Her silence said enough.
Auria, standing beside her, fidgeted nervously, her slender fingers twirling a lock of her blond curls as if it could save her from the awkwardness in the air. Her cheeks glowed with color, betraying emotions she didn’t yet have the courage to voice.
Nathan exhaled quietly. His eyes settled on Ariah again.
She didn’t waver. Even with the faint tremor in her breath, her crimson eyes—those sa eyes that once shimred with fear and frailty—now burned with conviction. She wasn’t the sa girl he had t in Tenebria.
For a mont, he simply studied her. The way she stood—shoulders squared but hands clenched tight against her dress—told him everything. She wasn’t speaking from impulse. She ant every word, even if her body quivered under the weight of it.
Nathan rembered too well how fragile she had once been. The curse that plagued her, the way her health would falter without warning, leaving her pale and trembling in bed. Back then, he’d kept his distance, thinking that sparing her the turmoil of attachnt would be an act of rcy. He hadn’t realized that his restraint might’ve hurt her more than his indifference.
He had seen that look before—when she smiled as her sister, Azariah, stood proudly at his side. There was pride in her eyes, yes, but also quiet sorrow. She thought herself lesser, unworthy.
But now, as Nathan watched her standing before him, trembling yet unyielding, he understood sothing had changed. She had endured, healed, and in that growth, her love had only deepened.
He could no longer see her as fragile. She had chosen her path with open eyes.
Without saying a word, Nathan turned and walked toward a low stone bench carved into the wall. The cold surface greeted him as he sat, his expression calm but unreadable.
He gestured lightly toward her. "Help then," he said at last.
For a heartbeat, Ariah froze—unsure if she had truly heard him right. Then, her lips parted in a breathless smile, relief and joy softening her features.
"Y...Yes!" she exclaid, her voice trembling but full of light.
As she stepped forward, her movents were hesitant, yet purposeful. The air between them seed to thrum with quiet tension—the kind that ca from sothing deeper than re desire. It was a culmination of years of longing, unspoken feelings.
When she finally reached him, she lowered herself slightly, her hands trembling in her lap.
Her heart thudded loud in her chest. It will be fine, she told herself again, though her hands trembled slightly as she reached for him.
She had seen her sister Azariah with him many tis—those stolen glances through the crack of the door, the way Azariah’s white hair fell over her shoulder as she moved her hand up and down Nathan’s shaft, the wet sounds of her lips sliding over him, the soft sighs she made as she swallowed him whole. Ariah had never been caught watching, but she had never forgotten. The mory burned behind her eyes now as her fingers brushed the edge of Nathan’s trousers and began to peel them down.
The fabric rasped softly against his skin. Her breath caught when his cock ca into view, heavy and half-hard, springing free of its confines. "Ha..." she exhaled before she could stop herself. Her lips parted in wonder. It was her first ti seeing one this close, and her throat went dry at the sight. Thick veins traced the length of him, the head flushed a dusky pink, and even at rest he seed impossibly large.
For a heartbeat, nerves fluttered inside her, but then the mory of her sister’s eager moans replaced the fear. This is what Azariah touches. What she licks. What she takes inside herself. Ariah swallowed hard and slid the trousers further down his thighs until they bunched at his knees.
Her hand rose again, small and delicate, and she hesitated before wrapping her fingers around him. The heat of his skin startled her. "I... it’s hot," she whispered, eyes darting up to et his.
"It is," Nathan murmured, his gaze steady, his voice low and rough.
She nodded uncertainly, licking her lips. "Then... I’ll start by licking—"
Before she could lean in, his hand lifted, fingers sliding beneath her chin. "Wait," he said, and then he bent forward, closing the distance between them. His lips pressed against hers, firm and deliberate.
Ariah’s breath hitched, her eyes fluttering wide at first before lting shut. "Hmmm..." Her body quivered as the kiss deepened, his mouth coaxing hers open until she yielded completely. Her tongue brushed his, timid and curious, and the taste of him—warm, faintly sweet—made her pulse stutter. When he finally pulled back, she was panting softly, her face flushed, her lips tingling.
Nathan smiled faintly, his thumb grazing the corner of her mouth. "Before you use your tongue and lips," he murmured, his voice a low hum that vibrated through her bones, "use your hand like this."
He guided her fingers, curling them around his shaft, adjusting her grip until her palm rested snug against the base.
"Right..." she breathed, embarrassed but eager to please. She began to move her hand slowly, her small fingers gliding over the smooth skin. The warmth of him seed to pulse against her palm, each throb growing stronger as she stroked him.
Her eyes widened as his cock hardened, swelling beneath her touch until it stood thick and proud in her hand. She rembered the image of her sister’s lips stretched wide around that sa cock, the sound of her wet mouth working him, and a strange ache blood low in Ariah’s stomach.
Determined, she quickened her pace, her hand sliding up and down, twisting slightly at the tip the way she’d seen Azariah do. Nathan’s breath hitched. "That’s right," he said, his hand brushing her cheek. "Use your whole hand, just like that."
The sound of skin gliding against skin filled the quiet space, soft and rhythmic. A bead of clear fluid gathered at the swollen tip, glinting in the dim light.
Ariah paused, eyes wide with curiosity. "This is..." she murmured, staring as if she’d discovered so secret treasure.
Nathan’s hand covered hers, his fingers guiding her movents. "Here," he said gently. He dipped her fingertip into the drop of precum, saring it until her finger shone wet and slick. The lightest touch sent a tremor through him, his breath sharp, but his focus remained on her. He lifted her hand, bringing the glistening finger toward her lips.
Understanding dawned in her eyes. Her heart hamred as she parted her mouth, letting him guide her finger past her lips. Her tongue brushed the salty fluid, tentative at first, then more deliberate, tasting him.
The flavor was strange—warm, musky, faintly sweet—but not unpleasant. She withdrew her finger and licked it once more before swallowing. "This..." she said softly, looking up at him, her cheeks glowing. "This tastes like nothing I’ve ever tasted before."
Nathan’s hand slid into her hair, fingers threading through the silken strands. "Good," he murmured. "There’s more for you to taste."
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