Achilleon pushed Hari onto the bed and climbed on top of her. Her n*ked body, completely exposed under the dazzling light, evoked a sense of aversion rather than arousal. And yet, his er*ction pulsed with an urgency that screamed of a rutting dog desperate to claim her.

Bending down, Achilleon bit down on Hari’s br*ast. He held her struggling body down, his tongue swirling around her hardened n*pple before sucking it into his mouth. The dim light seemed to meld their two figures into one. It made the woman’s face, etched with humiliation, even more visible.

“Hurry…”

As if she was ready to accept him. With a chuckle, Achilleon spread Hari’s thighs wide and lowered his head between them. He opened his mouth wide and engulfed her core, causing a startled Hari to try and sit up.

“Ah…!”

Her stiffness didn’t last long. His blunt tongue flicked against her sensitive bud, licking upwards with intensity. He delved into her folds, his tongue lapping to devour every drop of moisture. Hari writhed, biting her lip, her legs struggling to close but to no avail. It only served to further excite the beast buried between her thighs. His rough tongue teased her cl*t, pushing into her entrance. As he slid deeper, lapping up the sweet nectar pooled within, a tingling pleasure washed over her.

“Ah, huh…!”

As her essence gushed out, a finger pushed into her opening. It was relentless. His long fingers, thick as bones, penetrated her like a phallus, sending a jolt of tension through her groin.

“It hurts…”

At her whimper, Achilleon lifted his head. Her eyes were red-rimmed and wet. The moment he saw tears tracing slowly down her cheeks, Achilleon loosened his grip.

She quickly closed her legs, curling in on herself as she cried, resembling a vulnerable creature stripped of its protective shell. Suppressing a renewed wave of discomfort, Achilleon brushed his hair back.

“Stop crying.”

As he watched her wipe her tears, Achilleon realized the source of his unease. Tears, stained with firelight, a woman, and his own reflection.

He was no different from the King of Galate in her eyes. But did it matter? He even felt a strange sense of camaraderie with the King of Galate, who had been blinded by his own desires. After all, Achilleon himself was capable of anything to get what he wanted.

Yet, a heavy feeling settled in the pit of his stomach.

Achilleon stared at the woman with a hardened expression, a sharp sneer playing on his lips. He had no time to waste on pointless emotions like pity. He had to finish this, and Hari had agreed to it. The quicker, the better. His following actions were rough. He thrust his fingers into her, sucking on her swollen cl*toris.

Hari gasped, clutching the sheets. No sooner had she adjusted to one than a second finger joined the first, both moving in tandem, exploring her depths. He stirred slowly, then quickly, his fingers probing her core. Her toes curled, her thighs trembling. Once he deemed her ready, he moved to the next stage without hesitation.

A humorless laugh escaped Achilleon’s lips. How shameless. He found it ironic that his body, now pressed against her, betrayed his own discomfort.

Achilleon gathered Hari’s hair, scattered on the sheets, taking a slow breath. His other hand cupped her br*ast, her swollen n*pple pushing between his fingers. He lifted his head, capturing her lips in a kiss, his tongue seeking hers.

“Hng, ah…!”

A muffled moan escaped her throat. He continued the kiss, rubbing himself against her entrance. Both his mind and body throbbed with a need for release.

I’m about to explode. As he muttered to himself, he pushed his hips forward.

“Ah!”

“Relax.”

He licked her lips, twisted in pain, slowly pushing himself deeper. Her head fell back as his thick shaft parted her, filling her completely. He didn’t rush. He took his time, pulling back before slowly sheathing himself within her again. A gasp escaped her lips as their mouths remained locked.

He was buried deep inside her. Hari gasped, clutching his shoulders. Her hands pushed and pulled, unsure whether to push him away or pull him closer. Their lips parted with a wet sound, only to collide once more. Saliva trailed between them, her soft skin, the wet heat of her core—it was intoxicating.

He saw the way her eyelids, still wet with tears, flushed red under the light. He licked away a teardrop clinging to her lashes, his hips moving.

Ah, huh, ng. Her hair, spread across the sheets, swayed with each thrust. The moans that filled the room soon gave way to soft whimpers.

“Ah, stop…Nnngh!”

Every time his thick shaft plunged into her, Hari arched up. Her body tensed, her vision blurring. Achilleon took her hand, which was grasping at the air, and wrapped it around his neck. He lowered his upper body, their stomachs pressing flush against each other. He pulled back with a sucking sound, only to thrust back in with renewed force.

“Ah!”

A shiver ran down her spine at the intense wave of pleasure. Hari covered her heated face, pushing against his shoulder. It hurt. But the sharp pain was quickly overtaken by a rising wave of pleasure.

His muscular body rippled above her with each movement. The feeling of a hot brand searing her from the inside made her want to cry.

A pain she had never felt before. In her hazy vision, the image of the burning Galate palace flashed by, perhaps because of the heat that mirrored the flames of that night.

Now, this man is burning me. The thought crossed her mind between waves of pain and pleasure. Disillusionment settled in. Even as she accepted him, she fought back in meaningless defiance. Even though she had surrendered everything, Hari clung to her last shred of pride. The unfamiliar response of her own body deepened her despair.

She scoffed at herself. She wouldn’t die in vain like her mother. She would blind and deafen this man and escape. Accepting his tongue as it pushed into her mouth, Hari embraced her fate, unsure whether it would be her salvation or her doom.

***

Hari slowly opened her eyes. The first things she saw were the dim light and the familiar stone ceiling. It seemed she was still in the temple’s chamber. Her body ached as if it had been broken, a lingering reminder of their intimacy, her vision blurred. She reached out instinctively to the space beside her, but the familiar warmth was gone. The cold touch of the sheets brought her back to reality, and she looked around. Achilleon, clad in a loosely tied robe, was walking towards her with a glass of water.

“…Is it over?”

Hari got out of bed and cleaned herself with the towel prepared for her. She couldn’t bear to meet his eyes after what had transpired between them. She quickly searched for her clothes, desperate to escape the awkwardness. As she found her undergarments amidst the discarded clothing, she paused. Even as she covered herself with the whalebone-reinforced corset, she could feel his gaze lingering on her.

“Do you have something to say?”

Even though he was just looking at her, the memory of the previous night sent heat creeping up her cheeks.

“Drink this.”

“How much time has passed?”

Hari took the glass of water from Achilleon and walked towards the window. As she pulled back the thick curtains, she saw the sky painted in the dim light of dawn. She emptied the glass in one gulp, hoping to extinguish the heat that still lingered somewhere within her.

“I have to leave before someone recognizes my face.”

As she unfolded the robe to put it on, Hari stopped. There, on the inside of her wrist, was a mark that hadn’t been there the night before. It was the shape of a golden leaf, probably formed the moment he entered her. Achilleon’s wrist bore the same mark.

“What if Lady Selina finds out?”

“Hide it with this for now.”

It was a thin silver bracelet. Hari unclasped it and brought it to her wrist. She fumbled with the clasp, unable to fasten it. Achilleon, who had been watching her struggle, reached out and took both ends of the bracelet.

His fingers, which seemed rough and calloused, moved with unexpected care. The memory of those strong hands roaming her body flashed through her mind, and Hari closed her eyes. A click sounded as the clasp fastened. The mark disappeared as though it had been created by magic, and the warmth that had been clinging to her wrist vanished along with it.

“It’s a simple spell. You should go now. The priest who brought you here will be waiting for you at the back entrance.”

As she turned to leave, a dull ache in her lower body made her wince. Her abdomen and the space between her legs throbbed, but she straightened her back, unwilling to appear unsteady. She quickly checked her appearance in the mirror. The sacred mask had half-melted away, making it impossible to maintain the charade of being Selina. She had to move quickly before she was discovered.

Following the narrow passage, she reached the back entrance of the temple, where a woman veiled in black stood waiting. As Hari approached, about to signal her presence, she stopped, sensing another presence nearby.

‘Doris?’

She spotted the priest’s robes between the pillars of the opposite hallway. The moment the glint of his spectacles turned towards her, Hari quickly hid behind a pillar. Footsteps stopped abruptly, and silence fell.

“……”

Just when the silence seemed to stretch uncomfortably long, the sound of footsteps echoed away. Hari let out a relieved sigh. Only after confirming that Doris had disappeared did she hurriedly leave her hiding place.