The flames still flickered, but the desire in the air had congealed into a suffocating silence. Lucian walked closer, his silver battle boots treading over the scorching ground as if ignoring all that burned. His gaze was calm and clear, yet hid a secret turbulence.
Ilea huddled on the gold-and-crimson silk, her half-naked body still flushed from the blaze of lust, the lingering runes on her skin pulsing faintly. Her lashes drooped, lips trembling, but she said not a word.
Kador stood beside her, his bare chest rising and falling like tides. He made no move to draw his sword, nor any gesture of defense. He knew Lucian would not kill him in this moment.
"You're late, knight," he said with a smile, his voice hoarse. "A moment later, and you might have missed this 'truthful' side of her."
Lucian paid him no heed. His eyes remained fixed on Ilea, as if trying to discern whether the woman before him was still the phoenix heir who once lit lanterns with him in the Twilight Snow Valley, who whispered with him by the sacred spring.
"Stand up," Lucian said coldly.
But Ilea shook her head, her voice barely audible: "I... don't deserve to stand before you anymore."
He clenched his fist, a flicker of uncontrollable anger crossing his eyes. Not anger at her fall, but pain that she no longer believed she could return.
"Do you think falling means you can't be saved? Do you think bodily memories erase your soul?"
She finally looked up, tears in her eyes, but fire too. "You don't understand... my body has been defiled by the 'Fallen Star Flames.' I'm not that Ilea anymore. I am—vessel of blazing lust."
Lucian fell silent. He understood that she was no longer merely the pure phoenix heir of old. Her body and soul were being reforged by flame, devoured by runes.
But he knew better: true judgment is never passed by others.
So he walked to her, extending his hand. A long, cold hand, stained with the blood of countless demons, yet still clean.
"Come. Let me kiss your sins."
She froze. In the next moment, he bent down and kissed her.
It was no gentle comfort, but punishment—and summoning. His lips carried coldness, anger, yet also a warmth she knew too well to resist.
She tried to struggle, but he pressed her deeper into his embrace. His tongue invaded her mouth, seizing her breath until she gasped for air.
Then he whispered in her ear: "Let your body remember me, not that man's mark."
The words fell, and he pushed her roughly onto the silk. A cold palm curved around her nape, while the other pressed precisely against her abdomen, where the rune had scorched her.
Ilea let out a low moan, half pain, half pleasure, her body trembling.
"Ah... Lucian—you're insane."
"You left me no choice."
His kisses came like a storm: along her neck, across her chest, over every inch marked by flame. It was as if he sought to lick away Kador's lingering traces of lust with his lips and tongue.
Ilea's body shook uncontrollably, shame, regret, and desire burning her heart in turn. She bit her lip, but couldn't stifle the gasps escaping her throat.
"Do you think only he could awaken your body's hunger?" Lucian sneered, his fingers sliding inside her, slow and deliberate, exploring depths already roused.
She cried out, tears spilling—not from pain, but from a shattered self deep in her soul, being pieced back together by his touch.
"I don't want salvation. I want you to... torment me. To make me remember I still have a choice."
Lucian said nothing, only quickened his rhythm until she climaxed fully under his control.
As she trembled, lost in,Lucian lifted her, holding her tightly against him.
"You fell. But I won't leave you."
In the deepest recesses of the palace of blazing lust, an ancient shadow opened its eyes. The true apostle of the Moon-Sunderer King had quietly arrived.