The next morning, Raen didn't feel guilt.
He felt power.
Each time he claimed one of them, the Codex responded—not with praise, but hunger. And it always whispered the same promise: "Control the flesh, and you command the soul."
He walked through the academy halls like a blade sheathed in shadows.
Elya hadn't come to class.
But whispers about her had started.
"She looked… different."
"Something's off—her aura is spiked."
"She was glowing."
Raen smirked. The corruption was working faster than expected. She'd always been vulnerable.
But someone else had noticed.
---
Professor Selindra.
Advanced Illusions.
Tenure of three decades. A high mage.
And according to rumor, completely celibate.
She approached him after his last class.
Tall, elegant, severe.
Dark robes clung to her slender figure like silk soaked in oil. Her black hair was tied tight, her green eyes cold and sharp. Not beautiful in a girlish way—no. Selindra was all dominance and danger.
"You're Raen."
It wasn't a question.
He met her gaze without fear. "I am."
"You've been… stirring things."
Her voice was quiet, but carried weight.
Raen tilted his head. "And?"
"I want to know how."
---
She invited him to her office.
No assistants. No guards.
It was a place made of quiet menace—walls covered in shifting mirrors, books bound in ash-black hide, and a lingering scent of jasmine and something older.
Selindra stood before him, arms crossed under her breasts.
"I saw Elya. Her magical field has shifted. Severely."
Raen said nothing.
Selindra stepped closer.
"I can feel it on you. Your magic. It's not normal."
Her fingers reached out—rested against the mark on his chest.
The room dimmed. Mirrors trembled.
Raen grabbed her wrist.
"I'm not one of your students."
"No," she said.
"You're something darker."
---
She pressed her lips to his.
No gentleness. No hesitation.
Selindra kissed like she wanted to eat him alive. Raen responded in kind, their magic clashing—sparks in the air, tendrils of illusion wrapping around their bodies.
She pushed him back against her desk.
Clothes vanished in a shimmer.
His jacket burned away like smoke.
Her robes fell, revealing breasts full and pale, nipples already hard. Her body was lean, toned. Touched by decades of discipline and denial.
Selindra looked down at his cock.
"Well," she said, voice low, "no wonder they're all losing themselves."
She straddled him.
---
No foreplay. No mercy.
Selindra sank down onto him with a hiss of pleasure and pain, her walls tight and hot.
Raen groaned, grabbing her hips as she began to ride him—slow at first, deliberate, controlling the rhythm like she controlled illusions.
Her breasts bounced with each thrust, her green eyes locked on his.
"You think you're the one in control," she whispered. "But I've turned greater men than you into begging slaves."
Raen didn't speak.
He just bucked up hard—slamming into her so deep she gasped, eyes flashing with unexpected pleasure.
"Fuck—!"
She slapped his chest.
"Again."
---
He flipped her onto the desk, bending her over.
Fingers dug into her hips as he pounded her from behind, cock driving deep with slick, punishing thrusts. The mirrors around them rippled with distorted images—her moaning, her screaming, her bound in chains.
Selindra clawed at the wood.
"This—this wasn't—what I planned—"
Raen leaned over her back, teeth at her neck.
"But it's what you need."
She came hard.
Her body convulsed, magic flaring out in a burst of green fire. She screamed his name, her illusion breaking in all directions.
He didn't stop.
He fucked her through the aftershock, made her take every inch until her legs gave out and her throat was hoarse.
---
He came inside her.
Hot, thick, pulsing into her womb.
Selindra collapsed, cum dripping from between her thighs, her breath ragged.
Her body trembled.
And then—her illusions reformed. Her robes returned. Her face became calm again.
But her voice was different now.
"Mark me," she said softly.
Raen looked at her.
She turned her head.
"Do it."
He touched her lower back—carving the Codex's sigil just above her ass with glowing fingers.
She gasped as it burned into her skin, a magical brand. Her knees buckled. A small, involuntary moan left her lips.
Raen watched.
Another one fallen.
---
That night, the Codex pulsed with approval.
Raen stood in front of the mirror, bare-chested, the dark rune glowing brighter than ever.
Two corrupted.
Elya: the white crown, now dripping with lust.
Selindra: the high priestess of illusion, undone and marked.
But it wasn't over.
He felt it—more threads forming.
More girls watching.
And in the shadows of the academy, someone had begun watching him.