Velzra, Axel, and Luren were discussing all the materials they would need to begin
learning alchemy. They planned to use an old storage house, located away from the main manor, as their workshop.
Clara stood at a distance, watching them with little interest. Alchemy wasn't something that fascinated her.
Velzra turned to Luren, holding up a small leather-bound notebook filled with
handwritten notes. "These are the fundamentals Elder Zoran taught me," he said, flipping to a page with a diagram of an alchemical circle. "Before we do anything practical, you need to understand the basics symbols, ingredients, and intent."
Luren leaned in, curiosity lighting up his face. "What's this symbol here? The one shaped like an eye?"
"That's the Sigil of Sight," Velzra explained. "It enhances the potion's ability to reveal
hidden truths. It's useful in detection or memory recall mixtures."
Axel was sorting vials nearby but couldn't help chiming in. "So if we mess up a symbol,
the potion could explode, right?"
Velzra chuckled. "If you're lucky, it'll only explode. Alchemy isn't just science;
it's focus and control. A misaligned rune could turn a healing tonic into a poison."
Luren nodded, absorbing every word. "Teach me everything, Velzra. I want to learn it all."
"You will," Velzra replied with a serious tone. "Elder Zoran entrusted me with this
knowledge, and now I pass it on to you. We'll start with potion basics gathering herbs, grinding, and the heat balance. After that, we'll move on to elemental infusions."
Clara sighed as she turned away. "Boys and their strange hobbies," she muttered under
her breath, walking off as the lesson began.
Clara walked to the door, brushing her hair back with a sigh.
"I'll go to Yael and help him plant some flowers," she said, needing a break from the Alchemy lesson.
Yael, Axel's husband, was in the garden already tending to a bed of blooming lilies.
He was an omega, gentle and radiant, and four months pregnant. Luren had hired
him as the manor's Floral Artisan, and ever since, the garden had come alive with color.
For Yael, this place was paradise compared to the harsh life he'd known in Velgarith.
When he saw Clara approaching, his face lit up.
"Clara! What a lovely surprise." He smiled warmly, one hand gently resting on his baby
bump. "I was just thinking these tulips needed some company."
Clara knelt beside him in the soft soil, glancing at the neat rows of flowers. "Honestly, I'm bored with that alchemy lesson," she muttered, plucking a stray weed. "Velzra and Luren have been talking about herbs and mixtures for hours. It's
like they've forgotten the world even exists."
Yael chuckled softly. "Alchemy isn't for everyone. I tried once… nearly set my sleeve on fire."
Clara laughed. "I wouldn't mind the fire at least it would be exciting."
He nudged her playfully with his elbow. "You're more of a hands-on soul. These flowers appreciate you more than bubbling cauldrons."
Clara leaned back, breathing in the scent of fresh soil and blooming petals. "I like it here. It's peaceful. And… you seem happy."
Yael's expression softened. "I am. Truly. For the first time in a long while, I feel safe. This garden… this manor… it feels like home."
Clara gave him a small smile. "Then let's make it even more beautiful."
They exchanged a quiet look of understanding and went back to planting, two souls finding solace in soil and sunlight.
---
At night,
Velzra couldn't sleep, so he decided to take a walk in the garden. The surroundings were quiet, calm and cold, with only the soft rustle of leaves breaking the silence.
He breathed in the crisp air, grateful to have been forgiven. Deep inside, he had vowed to
support Luren and do everything he could to make up for his past mistakes.
"I didn't know prisoners are now allowed to roam the manor freely,"
a sarcastic voice cut through the stillness, laced with mockery and menace.
Velzra froze. He looked around, his heart quickening, and spotted a shadowy silhouette leaning against a tree.
"W-Who are you?" Velzra asked, a creeping fear twisting in his gut.
The figure began to walk toward him, slow and deliberate. As he stepped into the
moonlight, Velzra finally saw him, a tall, broad-shouldered man. A black tattoo coiled around his left arm, but it was his eyes that struck Velzra the most, raven black, but tinged with a haunting shade of gray, like a storm waiting to break.
"L-Luren allowed me some freedom," Velzra stammered, instinctively stepping back with
each of the man's approaching steps. His instincts screamed danger, this man wasn't ordinary.
The stranger chuckled darkly.
"Ah, our dear duchess. Truly a saint, so forgiving, even to those who dared poison the duke."
Velzra's back hit the rough bark of a tree. He was cornered.
"I-I'm sorry... I know I committed grave sins but I didn't poison the duke," his voice
trembled, shame and fear mingling in his chest.
The man was now inches away. He placed one hand on the tree beside Velzra's head, trapping him in place. The air between them thickened. His presence radiated quiet threat, like a predator toying with prey, yet his expression was unreadable, cloaked in shadow and secrets.
"You're sorry?" the man murmured, his voice low and unreadable.
"Oh? You didn't poison the Duke?" the man leaned closer, their faces just inches apart,
his voice laced with cold sarcasm.
"You just fed him whatever concoction you created to harm him? You're right, that is your grave sin. And why don't I return the favor... except I won't feed you
anything."
Before Velzra could even respond, the man grabbed him and crushed their lips together
in a harsh, punishing kiss. His lips smashed against Velzra's, rough and forceful. Velzra struggled, hands pressing against the man's chest, but it was like pushing a wall of stone, he didn't move an inch.
The man bit down on his lip, drawing blood. Velzra tasted iron and pain as the man's mouth moved to his neck, biting hard before slowly licking the wound like a predator
savoring its prey.
"Hmm... not bad," the man murmured with a cruel smirk, his eyes gleaming in the darkness. "See you next time," he whispered before stepping back and vanishing into the
shadows.
Velzra stood frozen for a heartbeat, then his body trembled. He wiped the blood from
his lips with the back of his hand, his breath shaking. Tears welled in his eyes, and he turned away, running back to his room. His chest ached, not from the bite, but from the shame, the fear, and the helplessness that clung to him like a shroud.
---
"I thought you would punish him," Craige said softly, his voice laced with amusement as he lay beside Luren in their bedroom. "But it looks like you made him your friend instead."
Luren turned his gaze toward Craige, a faint shadow of seriousness flickering in his
eyes. "I want to learn how he made those potions he used on you and how to make
an antidote. I don't want something like that ever happening to you again." His voice trembled slightly with the weight of his guilt and protectiveness.
"Velzra is truly sorry for what he did, but I won't forget that he made a marked on you."
As he spoke, Luren shifted from lying beside Craige to moving above him, gently
straddling his waist. His eyes were intense, dark with emotion.
"You are mine," Luren whispered, his tone low and possessive, "and only mine." A
seductive smile played on his lips as he leaned in closer.
Craige laughed, clearly enjoying Luren's jealousy. His eyes sparkled with mischief.
"Why don't you mark me, baby?" he teased, brushing his fingers against Luren's cheek.
"That's exactly what I'm going to do," Luren growled playfully, lowering his head to
Craige's neck. He began kissing the warm skin, slowly trailing down to a sensitive spot. He sucked, bit, and licked gently, leaving behind small hickeys, his own brand of devotion.
Craige moaned softly, his hands tangling in Luren's hair, heart racing with both desire and affection.
Craige let out a low groan, voice laced with amusement and arousal. "You're waking the
sleeping snake," he whispered teasingly, though the twitch beneath his underwear said the snake was already far from asleep.
Luren chuckled darkly, his eyes gleaming with desire. "Mmm… feels like the Great
Serpent is fully awake now," he purred, grinding his hips down against Craige's
arousal with slow, sinful movements that made them both gasp.
Craige's breath hitched. He grabbed Luren's face and pulled him into a kiss that was
anything but gentle, desperate, passionate, and overflowing with heat. Their tongues met in a fervent dance, tasting each other with an urgency that left no space between them.
When Luren finally pulled away, breathless and flushed, he murmured against Craige's lips, "I'm not done marking you yet…"
Craige smirked, his voice hoarse and needy. "You can mark me all night, but if you
keep teasing me like that—" he quickly yanked down Luren's pajama pants, hunger
burning in his eyes "I might just take over."