After the Night of the Flame Oath, the royal capital returned to silence. But in the "Fire Abyss Hall," deepest within the Snow-Flame Palace, a more intimate trial was about to unfold.
Aveline sat on the gold-inlaid fire throne, her silver hair cascading loose over her shoulders. Her battle robe remained unfastened at the chest, where flame patterns flickered like starlight across her skin. In her hand, she held an urgent letter from the Rift Sanitarium: Remnants of the Temple Ashes faction had infiltrated the capital, suspected of secretly colluding with noble holdouts.
"The enemies are not yet eradicated, but our alliance must be forged stronger first," she murmured.
The door creaked softly as Lucian arrived as promised. He had shed his armor, wearing only a tight black tunic. The blade-sharp severity of the battlefield had softened in his features, replaced by a wild, smoldering silence, like a flame banked low. He approached her, knelt on one knee, and took her hand: "The 'oath-curse' you spoke of—shall we seal it tonight?"
She laughed softly, her eyes glinting like light on a snowy night: "In the Fire Abyss, only true oaths are sworn."
She stood, her palm brushing his chest. The solid muscle trembled faintly under her touch, and he bowed his head to kiss her wrist, his lips and tongue tracing the flame patterns there.
"Tonight, we are no longer ruler and guard," she whispered. "We are blood, flesh, the only souls each can touch."
She stepped back, unfastening her belt. The red-and-black royal robe slipped to the floor. Bathed in firelight, she stood naked before the flame furnace—slender, her skin glowing with a faint golden hue, the royal blood mark on her collarbone burning bright as a brand.
Lucian moved almost like a beast, pulling her into his arms. He kissed her neck, his teeth grazing her shoulder with heated intent. She moaned, her nails digging into his back. He tore off his tunic, pressing their bodies together until no remained.
She reversed their positions, pushing him onto the stone platform of the furnace—a place where cold stone met flickering fire. Straddling his waist, their legs tangled, she leaned down to lick his collarbone, murmuring: "Speak your oath-curse."
He gasped, his hands closing over her breasts as he nipped her earlobe: "If your blood burns, I burn with you. If you fall, I fall with you."
Her breath quickened as she sank onto him, taking him fully. Firelight played across her face as she tilted her head back, a low moan escaping her lips. She clung to him, her movements slow yet heavy as judgment. Lucian gripped her waist, matching her rhythm, his ragged breaths interwoven with her name: "Aveline… my fire…"
They tangled like flames on the furnace stone, sweat the fire, gasps keeping time with the crackle of flames. She bent to kiss him deeply, and in that moment, the world narrowed to gasps, fire, and two burning bodies.
As climax hit, she all but screamed, pressing herself into his embrace. He in her ear, his hands clamping down on her as if they could never be parted.
They in the firelight, then were rekindled in each other's arms. Later, Aveline lay on his chest, her fingers absently tracing the scars on his shoulder.
"Do you know?" she whispered. "If I had faltered even once, you might not be here tonight."
Lucian held her tighter: "If you died, I would not live."
She ,her gaze fierce: "Don't speak such weakness. You must stand behind me, and kill all who would force my end."
He looked into her eyes, then smiled, kissing her forehead: "As you wish."
She sat up, pulling on her robe, and retrieved something from a hidden cabinet by the furnace—a ring carved from flame crystal, an ancient relic symbolizing royal oaths.
She slid it onto his left ring finger, murmuring: "From this night, you are my Flame-Oathed One. By my side in darkness, bound to me as fire to bone."
He pressed her back onto the heated stone, answering with a kiss: "From this night, I burn only for you."