Chapter 5

Lirian’s POV

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I needed air. Real air, not the sterile hum of the lab or the polite tension between Mara, Elias, and me. So I slipped out during a lull, lab coat still buttoned over my tunic and jorts, the white fabric billowing behind me like a ghost as I wandered deeper into the palace gardens.

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The paths twisted through singing crystal trees, their branches chiming softly whenever a breeze moved them. I followed a narrow trail that narrowed until it felt like the garden was swallowing me whole. Then the air changed—thicker, warmer, pulsing. I pushed through a curtain of glowing vines and stepped into a hidden grove.

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It was wild. Untamed. Aether hung in the air like mist, violet and gold, so dense I could taste it on my tongue. Flowers the size of dinner plates bloomed in impossible colors, petals unfurling as if they sensed me. Vines slithered along the ground, slow and curious, like living smoke. The crystal trees here were older, trunks veined with raw light that throbbed in time with my heartbeat.

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I forgot Lashawn for the first time since stepping through the portal. Forgot the ache in my chest, the way my parents’ silence still echoed louder than any argument. Here, surrounded by something so unreal it felt like a dream I might never wake from, I could breathe.

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I crouched beside a cluster of luminescent blossoms and whispered, “Hey… can you hear me?”

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The petals shivered. One vine lifted, brushed my wrist—gentle, inquisitive. Another curled toward my ankle. They weren’t attacking. They were *listening*.

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I laughed, soft and shaky. “Yeah. I think you can.”

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For a minute, I let myself imagine staying. Just me and this impossible place. No more being the family disappointment. No more being the boyfriend who wasn’t enough. Just studying, learning, becoming part of something bigger than my broken little life.

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Then a shadow fell across the light.

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I looked up.

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Vaelor stood at the grove’s edge.

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No armor. Just a long black robe that draped over his massive frame like liquid night, open at the chest to reveal the hard planes of silver-violet skin and faint bioluminescent scales. Regal pants hugged his thighs, dark and tailored. His midnight hair was unbound, falling past his shoulders. The obsidian horns curved back from his brow like a crown of shadow. He looked less like a prince and more like a warlord who’d stepped out of myth.

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His amethyst eyes pinned me in place.

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“Human,” he said, voice deep, low, and edged with warning. “You trespass.”

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I stood slowly, brushing dirt from my palms. My lab coat fluttered behind me. “It’s Dr. Lirian Voss. Not ‘human.’ And I didn’t see any signs saying ‘keep out.’”

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His gaze flicked over me—my exposed thighs, the sheer tunic clinging slightly from the humid air, the high bun that left my neck bare. Something flashed in his eyes. Not disgust. Something darker.

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“You should not be here,” he said. “This grove is not for outsiders.”

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Anger flared in my chest, sudden and hot. I’d spent days walking on eggshells around him, swallowing every cold glance, every clipped order. I was tired of it.

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“Maybe if you didn’t treat me like vermin, I wouldn’t have to sneak around to get a moment’s peace.” My voice cracked higher than I wanted. “You look at me like I’m a liability. Like I’m going to break something just by breathing. If you hate having me here so much, just say it. Tell your father to send me back. I’d rather be gone than followed and judged every second.”

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The vines reacted before he did.

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They slithered toward me, rising like cobras, coiling near my wrists, my ankles. My anger must have tasted like a challenge to them.

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Vaelor moved.

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One stride and he was in front of me. His hand shot out, fingers wrapping around my upper arm—not hard enough to bruise, but firm enough to drag me forward, away from the vines. The motion yanked me off balance. I stumbled into his chest.

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He didn’t let go.

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Our faces were inches apart. I could smell him—ozone, smoke, something primal and sweet. His breath fanned over my lips. My heart slammed so hard I thought it would crack my ribs.

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“You think you can speak to me that way?” His voice was a growl, but it cracked at the end.

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“I’m speaking to you exactly the way you speak to me,” I shot back, cheeks burning. “Like I’m nothing.”

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Something snapped in him.

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I didn’t see it coming.

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His other hand cupped the back of my neck, fingers tangling in my bun, tilting my head back. Then his mouth crashed onto mine.

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Rough. Desperate. Hungry.

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His tongue wasn’t human. It was longer, thicker, unusually fat—sliding past my lips with shocking ease, filling my mouth in a slow, possessive stroke. The texture was velvet-smooth but ridged faintly along the sides, dragging against my tongue, the roof of my mouth, sending sparks down my spine. He tasted like starlight and storm—sweet, electric, addictive.

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I moaned into his mouth before I could stop myself.

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His hands moved. One stayed locked at my nape, the other slid down my back, under the lab coat, finding the curve of my ass through the thin jorts. He squeezed—hard, claiming—lifting me clean off the ground like I weighed nothing. My legs dangled for a heartbeat before instinct made me wrap them around his waist. He pressed me against the nearest crystal tree, the bark warm and humming against my spine.

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The kiss deepened. His tongue fucked into my mouth in slow, deliberate thrusts, stroking every sensitive place until my head spun. I clutched his shoulders, nails digging into the robe, into the harder muscle beneath. My cock throbbed painfully against his abdomen, trapped between us. Heat pooled low in my belly, slick and urgent. I was leaking—precum soaking through my underwear, dampening the fabric between my thighs. My body was betraying me, responding like it had been waiting for this.

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And then I felt it—my back hole twitching, clenching, suddenly slick and wet, a slow, involuntary drip of arousal seeping from inside me, making the cleft between my cheeks slippery and hot.

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Vaelor groaned—a raw, broken sound—against my lips.

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Then he froze.

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He tore his mouth away, breathing hard, eyes wide with horror. His hands opened. I dropped—only a few inches, but enough to make me stumble when my feet hit the ground.

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“This cannot be,” he rasped.

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He staggered back, horns flaring with sudden violet light, chest heaving. For the first time since I’d met him, the unbreakable stoic mask shattered—raw panic flashing across his face.

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Then he turned and strode out of the grove, robe snapping behind him.

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I collapsed to my knees on the soft moss.

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The air tasted sickeningly sweet, thick with Aether and the ghost of his flavor. My mouth watered uncontrollably, my lips swollen and tingling. My blood roared in my ears, skin fever-hot. Between my legs, I was soaked—underwear clinging wetly, thighs trembling. My cock ached, untouched and desperate. And lower, my hole still pulsed, slick and open, dripping with a wetness I’d never felt before.

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“What the actual fuck!!!”