Valeriah's journey from the inner walls of the Velressi Palace to the edge of the untamed borderlands was fraught with more than just the wilderness. The trees towered like titans, whispering secrets in the wind, their moss-covered limbs casting elongated shadows that moved like living things. A trail of dust followed her rapid movements, but she didn't stop. The faint trace of Kael'theron's lingering aura—carried by the robe she clutched so tightly—guided her more than any map ever could.
The scent…
That scent.
It was maddening. Addictive. A warmth wrapped around her like a comforting, protective cocoon—and yet it drove her heart into wild frenzy. She had begun the journey with resolve, but with every hour that passed, the fire of craving within her grew. It wasn't mere admiration. It wasn't even lust. It was a hunger. A gnawing void.
The robe, once folded neatly in her satchel, now draped over her shoulders. She would close her eyes and imagine his presence behind her. Kael'theron's breath on her neck. His fingertips grazing her hips. These thoughts came unbidden—despite the intense discipline instilled in her since her earliest days as an inner disciple.
And then came the breaking point.
She passed an enchanted glade, its moonlight catching the silver brooch on her shoulder, and Valeriah fell to her knees, clutching the robe against her body. "What is this madness…?" she whispered, lips trembling. "What have you done to me, Kael'theron?"
---
Back in the hidden mansion nestled within the spiritual barriers Seraphyne had constructed, the air was unusually still. Kael'theron was meditating—or rather, pretending to. His mind wandered, unwillingly replaying the incident from over a week ago.
The corrupted alpha wolf. The battle. The blood.
And then…
The Twin Beauties.
Her curves bouncing with every movement, her chest heaving beneath torn robes as she swung her blade desperately.
His body had acted on instinct.
Seraphyne's voice pierced the quiet.
"Kael'theron."
He blinked, finding her standing near him, arms crossed, wearing a skeptical expression. The golden serpent tattoo that curled up her thigh glimmered faintly in the candlelight.
"What exactly happened the night you saved that girl?"
He hesitated.
"I… was going to let her die," he admitted without shame. "But then I saw… well, I noticed her chest. Beautiful, really. Plump. Bouncy. I didn't think—my body just moved. Before I knew it, I'd gave her my robe, killed the wolf and she was staring up at me like I was a hero."
Seraphyne's crimson eyes glinted. She walked closer, hips swaying like silk in a breeze. Then, without a word, she peeled off her shirt, baring her immaculate chest with quiet confidence.
"And what about these?" she asked, raising an eyebrow. "What do you feel now?"
Kael'theron stared.
There was a brief pause.
Then he tilted his head. "Nothing."
Seraphyne blinked, almost surprised herself. "Nothing?"
He nodded. "They're… perfect. Better than hers. But you're you. It feels wrong. I don't feel desire—just… familiarity. You're not my adoptive mother. You are my mother."
That answer pierced her heart like a warm dagger.
She smiled.
Soft. Proud. Relieved.
"What a relief..." she whispered, more to herself than to him. "You are awakening into your incubus nature... Though it's seems it won't be as bad as I had feared."
---
More than a week passed. The household remained quiet, peaceful… until it wasn't.
There was a ripple in the mansion's barriers. An intruding aura. Familiar.
Seraphyne's eyes snapped open mid-meditation. "She's here."
Kael'theron looked up from the book he was pretending to read. "Who?"
A moment later, there was a knock. Not timid. Not bold. It trembled with restraint.
Seraphyne opened the door.
Valeriah stood there.
Eyes wild with suppressed emotion. Her hair slightly tangled from the journey. The robe still clinging to her like a lifeline.
"I… had to find him," she said, voice hoarse. "Please. Don't turn me away."
Seraphyne studied her with a slow, piercing gaze. The girl's scent was already corrupted. Her breathing uneven. Her soul clouded by craving.
She didn't need to ask why Valeriah came.
The robe had done its job.
Kael'theron's incubus nature had bloomed.
Seraphyne turned, her expression unreadable.
"Come in."
And so began the next stage of Kael'theron's journey.
Not just as a warrior.
But as something far more dangerous:
An incubus, unknowingly stepping into a world where every breath he exhaled could enslave a heart—and every gaze drawn to him was one step closer to obsession.
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