🔁 Previously…
Lynx clawed out of a shallow grave, resurrected by a cursed sword buried beside him — Nyxfang, a weapon of ancient hunger, forged in lust and war.
Betrayed by his own command, Lynx unleashed his wrath on the very soldiers who tried to bury him.
But as the blood cooled, a woman stepped through the fog — barefoot, glowing, and impossibly alluring.
She knelt before him and called him Sovereign.
Now, she promises him power, dominion… and something called the First Ritual.
🌫️ The Silk-Clad Stranger
The cave was old — not dead, but sleeping.
Vines choked its entrance, and the air inside was thick with incense and forgotten breath. Ancient symbols were carved into the stone walls, flaking with time. A circle of salt and ash had been etched on the ground, lit by faintly glowing embers.
Kaethe moved through it like she belonged there — not as a guest, but as a keeper.
Lynx followed behind, cautious.
Nyxfang, now slung across his back in a leather harness fashioned from dead soldiers' gear, vibrated softly. It didn't speak, but it didn't have to. The blade approved.
She knelt by a basin and began washing her hands with crimson water. "The sword doesn't just need blood," she said. "It needs something deeper. Something intimate."
Lynx leaned against a stone pillar, folding his arms. "So this ritual is about… sex?"
Kaethe didn't smile. "Not sex. Submission. Power. Shared essence." She stood, turning slowly, her silk robe catching the candlelight. "This isn't just for pleasure, Sovereign. It's your binding. The first seal."
"You keep calling me that."
"Because it's what you are."
Lynx stepped closer, eyes narrowing beneath the mask. "Then why does all this feel like I'm being tamed?"
At that, she did smile — but it was not warm.
"You are," she said. "But not by me."
🔥 The Ritual Begins
Kaethe walked to him, every motion fluid and deliberate. She reached for his mask. He flinched — reflex, not fear.
She paused.
"I won't remove it," she said softly. "It's not ready to come off. Not until you're ready to know what's beneath."
He relaxed.
She tugged at the straps across his chest. Piece by piece, his stolen armor fell away. Her fingertips trailed over his skin — not just exploring, but marking. Her touch left behind trails of light, faintly glowing like veins of lava beneath the surface.
She stepped back into the circle.
"Enter. If you dare."
Lynx stepped inside.
The moment his foot crossed the line, the embers flared. The air pulsed with heat. Candles extinguished on their own. A deep hum filled the chamber — the sword, reacting to the proximity of its new vessel and this… priestess.
Kaethe undressed slowly, robes slipping from her shoulders with no modesty, no shame. Her body was lithe, inked with sigils that moved like serpents. Her eyes never left his.
She didn't kneel this time.
She pushed him down.
Lynx let it happen — not because he was weak, but because something in the ritual demanded surrender.
She straddled him, her hips grinding against his as she whispered incantations in a forgotten tongue. Her breath warmed the steel of his mask. Her hands slid beneath it, not to remove — but to anchor the spell.
Their bodies moved in rhythm, not just with lust, but with intention. Every thrust, every moan, every kiss — designed. His heartbeat matched hers. His magic surged.
And in the moment of climax — hers, then his — the chamber exploded with light.
A rune seared itself across Lynx's spine. His bones vibrated. The mask fused tighter. His blood boiled.
And Nyxfang screamed with delight.
:: FIRST CLAIMED. ::
💀 Aftermath
Lynx collapsed against the altar stone, gasping.
Kaethe lay across his chest, spent, glowing faintly in the dim red light.
Neither spoke for several minutes. There were no words that could match what had just occurred.
But eventually, she sat up, straddling him still, her expression now deadly serious.
"You're bound now. The first ritual is complete. The sword is stable."
"And the next?" Lynx rasped, voice deeper, almost echoing.
"You must claim another. To grow in power, you must awaken five. Each one will unlock a part of the blade. A part of you."
Lynx sat up slowly. "Who's next?"
Kaethe stood, pulling on a thinner robe. Her hair clung to her skin. She looked like a goddess made of fire and silk.
"Rika. Assassin. Half-beast. The only woman who ever beat you in single combat."
"She remembers you."
"And she wants you dead."
Lynx chuckled beneath the mask.
"I think I'm starting to enjoy being alive again."
🔮 Next Chapter — "The Beast and the Blade"
Rika lives in the underbelly of Thornehold — a city of blades and lies.
Lynx must track her down… not to kill her, but to tame her.
But Rika remembers the night she nearly ended him. She remembers his weakness.
Will she surrender to the Sovereign… or drive her dagger through his heart?
❤️🔥 Did this chapter leave a mark?
Bookmark for Chapter 3: The Beast and the Blade
Comment your thoughts on Kaethe's role and the ritual 🔥
Share if you'd kneel to the Sovereign