The air between them still sizzled with the remnants of the blood oath. The forest had gone utterly silent, holding its breath as if even the wind feared the sacred bond now forged beneath the moon. Magdalena turned slowly toward Lucien, the golden sigils glowing faintly in her eyes like an ancient crown of fire.
But she felt no fear. No shame. Only power. And him.
Lucien watched her like a man lost at sea watches the shore—aching, reverent, starved. He stepped forward and brushed a curl from her cheek, his touch scorching despite the cool night air.
"You've changed," he murmured, voice thick with hunger. "You're no longer theirs. You're mine now."
She lifted her chin, defiant even as heat curled low in her belly. "No. I am my own."
Lucien's lips quirked into a smile, equal parts dangerous and desirous. "Then allow me to worship you as such."
He closed the distance between them in a single breath. Their mouths collided—first in challenge, then in surrender. The kiss burned through her, unraveling the last threads of guilt she still wore like penance. His hands gripped her waist, pulling her into the solid wall of his body. She gasped against him as his mouth trailed down her neck, tasting her pulse, claiming every sacred inch.
Magdalena's hands roamed over the strong lines of his back, pulling at his coat until it fell away. She wanted to feel all of him—his sin, his strength, his promise. He peeled away her soaked robes with aching reverence, baring her skin to the starlight and the holy shadows of the glade.
She expected roughness, a dominance born of fire and brimstone. But Lucien was tender, his lips moving over her collarbone, his hands memorizing every rise and curve of her body like she was scripture. When his mouth descended to her breasts, her head fell back, a moan slipping from her lips that sounded too close to prayer.
He knelt before her then, not as a devil, not as a fallen king, but as a man overcome. He kissed her stomach, her hips, the inside of her thighs until her legs trembled beneath him. Then he looked up, eyes dark with desire.
"May I?" he asked, voice hoarse, reverent.
"Yes," she breathed.
He parted her gently, his tongue finding her with exquisite skill, driving her toward a crescendo that left her crying out to gods long buried beneath the earth. She clutched at his hair, arching into him, her soul unraveling in his mouth like a hymn.
When he rose again, she pulled him down into the soft moss, their bodies tangled like roots searching for home. She guided him inside her with no hesitation. He entered her with a groan that sounded like a storm breaking. Together, they moved as if the world had ended and this moment was all that remained.
Their rhythm was slow at first—exploratory, aching. Then faster, harder, a desperate need to consume and be consumed. Magdalena clung to him, legs wrapped tight around his hips, moaning his name as if it were both sin and salvation.
Their climax came together like lightning—white-hot and blinding. She screamed as he growled her name, and for a breathless second, the stars themselves seemed to shimmer brighter above them.
When it was done, they lay tangled beneath the heavens, slick with sweat and magic. Lucien traced symbols on her shoulder with his fingertip, his breath warm against her ear.
"I never thought I'd feel this again," he whispered. "Hope."
Magdalena turned her head to face him, her smile soft but fierce. "Then hold on to it. We'll need it for what comes next."
A sudden rustle in the woods made them both tense. Lucien was on his feet in an instant, already reaching for his coat.
Out of the shadows stepped a woman clad in robes as white as starlight. Her hair was silver, her eyes glowing with celestial fire. Wings—pure and terrible—unfurled behind her.
"Seraphina," Lucien said coldly.
The angel's gaze fell on Magdalena. "You've made your choice, nun. And now you'll both pay the price."
Magdalena stood tall, naked but unashamed, wrapped in the afterglow of passion and the power of their bond.
"I am not afraid," she said.
"Good," Seraphina said, drawing a blade of radiant light from her side. "Because fear is for the righteous."
The clearing exploded into divine light.