Interlude Three

: Three Is a Flame

Pairing: Naomi × Reina × Jayce

Setting: Candlelit Safehouse Sanctuary

Mood: Sacred. Erotic. Queer polyamory reclaimed

Tone: Fluid, deeply connected, consent-filled, reverent

---

The safehouse was quiet. For once.

The war outside had lulled into uneasy silence, but inside—inside, something divine was beginning.

Naomi lit the last candle on the bedside shelf, casting the room in gold and shadow. Her chest rose and fell in steady rhythm as she turned to the two people who had helped her survive every version of herself—Reina, storm-eyed and slow-burning; Jayce, all pulse and heat and steady gravity.

They watched her with the kind of hunger that wasn’t just about skin—it was about memory, longing, and permission.

She gave it.

> “No sides tonight,” Naomi whispered. “No ranks. Just… us.”

Reina reached her first. Their kiss was like poetry revisited—Naomi’s hands sinking into dark curls, Reina’s breath hot against her lips. When Jayce came behind her, his arms looping around her waist, she leaned back into him and sighed.

She belonged to both. And neither. And herself.

---

They undressed her like an offering.

Reina kissed every freckle on her spine. Jayce pressed his lips to the inside of her wrists. Naomi stood still, trembling—not from fear, but from the sacredness of being seen.

> “Tell me,” she whispered. “What do you want?”

Jayce kissed her shoulder. “You. Exactly like this.”

Reina smiled. “To give you everything you never asked for.”

---

They guided her to the bed like priest and priestess to altar.

Jayce lowered her gently onto the soft sheets while Reina knelt between her legs, fingers spreading Naomi wide with slow reverence. Naomi cried out as Reina’s tongue flicked against her, and Jayce kissed her throat to swallow the sound.

> “I love watching you come apart,” Jayce murmured.

Naomi gripped his hand and pulled him closer. “Then help me break.”

Jayce straddled her from above, mouth devouring hers as Reina made Naomi sob into his kiss. Her thighs trembled, every nerve on fire, every gasp a prayer in a language she forgot she spoke.

She came against Reina’s mouth like rain meeting earth—loud, shaken, grateful.

But they weren’t finished.

---

Jayce entered her from behind, slow and deep, while Reina kissed Naomi’s lips and held her hands above her head.

The rhythm was cosmic—bodies moving like constellations. Moaning. Breathing. Colliding. Holding.

Jayce grunted, “You feel like you were made for both of us.”

Naomi whispered, “Maybe I was.”

Reina sucked at her pulse point, murmuring, “You don’t have to choose. You never did.”

Naomi came again with both their names in her mouth, and when Jayce finally followed, trembling and sweat-drenched, he buried his face in her hair and whispered,

> “Let this be our revolution.”

---

They lay in a tangle of limbs and heat long after the candles burned low.

Reina stroked Naomi’s side. Jayce pressed lazy kisses to her shoulder. No one spoke for a long time.

Then Naomi whispered, almost to herself:

> “If I die tomorrow, let this be the last thing I remember.”

Interlude Four: Scars in the Tent

Pairing: Reina × Dr. Selin (female medic)

Setting: Emergency medical tent near Valeburn Ridge

Mood: Touch-starved, unexpected, tender power exchange

Tone: Soft dominance, vulnerability, slow-burn heat

---

The tent flap fluttered in the wind, laced with the scent of iodine, sweat, and scorched metal. The battle had left Valeburn’s edge broken—but inside this makeshift hospital, it was Reina who felt more wounded than healed.

She sat shirtless on the padded bench, her ribs bandaged tight, a thin sheen of blood still dried along her temple.

Across the tent, Dr. Selin, tall and golden-brown with sun-chapped lips, peeled off her gloves.

“You should’ve stayed another night for observation,” she muttered.

Reina smirked. “You say that like you want me helpless.”

Selin glanced over her shoulder, eyes narrowing.

“I want you honest,” she said. “That you’re not made of steel.”

Reina tilted her head. “Who says I’m not?”

Selin stepped closer, slower this time. She stopped in front of Reina and gently brushed a lock of hair from her brow.

“You’ve got a scar on your cheek you pretend doesn’t hurt.”

Reina stilled. “That’s because it only aches when I’m touched.”

A pause.

Selin didn’t ask for permission. She leaned down, lips brushing the scar like a secret.

“Then let it ache,” she whispered.

---

Their kiss was electric.

Reina surged upward, grabbing Selin’s shirt with her good hand and dragging her into her lap. The cot creaked beneath them as Selin straddled her, breathing hard.

“You’re dangerous,” Selin gasped between kisses.

“You’re the one playing doctor,” Reina growled, her hand sliding beneath Selin’s uniform.

Buttons popped open one by one, and soon Reina’s mouth was pressed to the hollow of Selin’s throat, tongue tasting salt and victory. Selin rocked her hips, grinding down, breath hitching as Reina’s fingers slid beneath her waistband.

“No gloves?” Selin teased.

Reina smirked. “Only if you scream.”

Selin did.

---

Their clothes scattered across the sterile floor.

Selin pushed Reina gently back on the cot, guiding her legs apart with soft precision.

“I always imagined you’d be rough,” Selin murmured, licking a line up Reina’s inner thigh.

Reina trembled, jaw slack. “And?”

“You’re not.” Selin smiled. “You’re reverent.”

When Selin’s mouth found her center, Reina bit her fist to keep from crying out loud enough to alert the entire infirmary. Her hips bucked, her breath shattered, her voice a string of curses and half-prayers.

Selin held her down and didn’t let go until Reina came—violently, beautifully, without restraint.

---

After, Selin pulled the blanket over them and tucked herself beneath Reina’s arm.

“You’ll run again tomorrow,” she said, voice drowsy. “You always do.”

Reina kissed her hair. “Not if you make me stay.”

Selin closed her eyes, whispering against her collarbone.

“Then stay broken here. With me.”