Chapter 134 - Chapter 134 · The Touch of Blazing Flames

The curtains hung low, and candle flames flickered. The air was filled with a mixture of incense and blood. Ilea stood barefoot in the center of the sanctuary, her cloak slipping off her shoulders, her naked body blooming like a flame in the shadows. Her skin still bore the marks of Lucian's fingertips—faint red imprints lingering beneath her breasts, on the sides of her thighs, and across her neck, each one an engraving left by him.​Never had she desired a man so fiercely, nor stood so close to destruction.​Lucian approached slowly, silver hair falling before his shoulders, his battle robe open to reveal a muscular chest that looked as if licked by tongues of fire. His hand moved unhurriedly to Ilea's waist, fingertips trailing downward until they reached the warmth between her thighs. He murmured softly:​"You belong to the Lord of Flames... and to me."​She looked back at him, her eyes clouded with a faint blush, reason long since burned away in their earlier lovemaking. She raised a hand, trembling fingertips tracing his collarbone, her voice so hoarse it was barely audible: "Then... burn me to ashes."​In the next moment, he lifted her, pressing her against the edge of the altar. Firelight danced in his dark, night-like pupils, where desire and dominance intertwined. His lips brushed her earlobe, teeth nipping at the side of her neck until warm blood trickled down—he licked it clean, as one would drink holy wine.​Ilea moaned, her body seeming to ignite. They tangled and intertwined as Lucian moved inside her, his rhythm shifting from rough as a storm to lingering as night rain. Each thrust sent shudders through her soul, her body and will ing sinking in unison.​"Tell me, who do you belong to?" he ed in her ear.​"Yours... all yours..." she replied, almost crying out.​He laughed—a sound like the hiss of flames, or the whisper of a demon from hell. One hand clamped around her throat, forcing her to look at him, while the other lifted one of her legs, driving deeper into her, making her surrender completely to desire.​Meanwhile, in the depths of the night far from the sanctuary, a pair of gold-red eyes opened silently. The apostle of the Cracked Moon King was awakening slowly, his form twisting in the void, as if responding to a destiny on the verge of shattering—​"The union of soul flames has begun... the return of the Lord is imminent."​