The throne hall was quieter that day than I remembered. The stone walls, usually full of echoes from conversations and footsteps, now seemed to swallow every sound. I could feel that the news waiting for me would not be good.
When I entered, the king stood over a vast map of the northern territories, spread across a table of black oak. Around him stood his most trusted commanders and advisors. Fresh markings from the latest reports glistened on the map—tiny symbols, each one representing a village that had vanished or gone silent.
"Aric," the king addressed me without turning from the map. His voice was firm, yet there was an undertone of unease. "The reports from the North grow worse with each passing day. People are disappearing. Entire settlements are left abandoned. Survivors speak of shadows moving against the wind, strange symbols carved into stone and trees… and a voice they hear at night."
"I've fought there before," I answered without hesitation. "I know those forests and mountains. And I know that if something is awakening there, it won't wait for us to act."
"That's exactly why I want you to lead this expedition," the king said. Now he looked me straight in the eyes. "This will not be the march of a great army. We need speed, precision, and people who can survive where others would fall. Choose whoever you want. This time, I give you complete freedom."
I didn't have to think. "Jered," I said immediately. "And the twins—Lythara and Nyssira."
A murmur rippled through the room. Some commanders frowned, others smirked. Everyone knew what those names meant. Jered and I had fought side by side in the North years ago—that's where we earned our reputation. The legend of how we led the remnants of an exhausted unit through three days of encirclement and broke the enemy is still told by fires in the barracks.
And the twins? That choice was just as certain. Dark elf women I had rescued years ago from human slavers and personally trained. Deadly fast, strikingly beautiful, and loyal to the last breath. Everyone knew them as "The Two Blades of Shadow." On the battlefield, their skill rivaled seasoned veterans, and their shameless habit of provoking me during training only proved they feared no one—not even me.
The king allowed himself a faint smile, though his eyes showed no relief. "Very well. You leave in two days. This mission could write your names deeper into history… or it could be where your legend ends."
Those words were no exaggeration. The North does not forgive. And I knew this could be the last journey we returned from. But if anyone was going—it would be us.
From the throne room, I went straight to my duties. Time before departure was short, and every moment mattered. I thought Thalina didn't know yet—at least, that's what I believed.
As I passed by her study, I caught the muffled rustle of parchment and quick footsteps. I stopped at the open doorway. Inside, a maid was stumbling over the carpet, nearly dropping the scrolls she carried.
Thalina sat behind her desk, hands resting on a sheet covered in runes, and lifted her gaze just as the maid regained her balance. Her subordinates in the background pretended not to notice, but I certainly did.
"Easy, girl," Thalina smiled, taking the scrolls from her hands. Then she looked at me—her eyes carrying that familiar spark.
"What was so important that they sent you running to me, almost tripping over yourself?" she asked the maid, her tone more amused than strict.
"A message from the North, my lady," the maid replied breathlessly. "It just arrived."
For a moment, silence filled the room—until my laugh broke it. "So, you already know," I said.
Thalina laughed as well, set the scrolls aside, and leaned back in her chair. "Of course I do. My people bring me news before half the council even sees it."
She rose, walked slowly around the desk, and stopped in front of me. She placed a hand on my chest and leaned close enough for me to feel the warmth of her breath.
"But tonight," she said in a low, seductive voice, locking her eyes with mine, "when I finish all my work… I'll come to you. To our chambers."
I felt the corners of my lips curl upward. "I'll be waiting."
She turned and went back to her desk. As I left, I glanced back—she caught my gaze and gave me that subtle smile that always meant the evening ahead would be far from ordinary.
Thalina was wearing something that could have broken even a saint. Black silk lingerie so thin it seemed to vanish against her skin. The top was nothing more than two small lace triangles, connected by delicate silver chain straps that crossed between her breasts and over her back. Every movement made the chain softly chime and the lace shift, as if it could slide away at any moment.
The bottom… wasn't much of a garment at all. Just a narrow strip of lace, held at the sides by the same silver rings, doing nothing to truly cover her. On her thighs glinted thin metal bands, which gave off a faint jingle when she walked. And to finish it—she wore tall, dark green boots laced up to her thighs, made of soft leather that contrasted sharply with her pale skin.
"You wanted me to come," she smiled seductively, "so I wore something… that you'll remember, even if you're a thousand miles away."
She stood before me, one hand resting on the arm of my chair, the other slowly trailing down her stomach, over the flimsy strip of lace, until her fingers brushed the silver ring at her hip.
"You know… I've been thinking about you all evening," she whispered, and I could tell she wasn't lying.
When I rose to my feet, my eyes swept over her from the boots to her eyes. I couldn't help but look at her breasts—the lace didn't hide them at all, only teased. The moment I touched her, I felt her nipples harden under my palm.
"Turn around," I told her.
She obeyed. The silk strap on her back was pulled tight, and her ass was covered only by that narrow strip disappearing between her curves. I ran my fingers along her thigh, tugged the string slightly to the side, just enough to hear the soft, urgent moan escape her throat.
"You're beautiful," I said, my voice already deeper, rougher.
"Then take me," she replied.
I grabbed her waist, pressing her against the table by the window, and kissed her—deep, rough, my fingers digging into her hips. The chain on her chest jingled as I slid it aside and took her nipple into my mouth. My hand slid between her thighs, over that ridiculous lace that had already lost its purpose.
"My pussy's already burning for you, Aric," she breathed in my ear. "I don't want to wait."
I lifted her onto the table and, with one swift motion, tore away the bottom piece with my teeth—leaving nothing but bare, hot skin. She held onto my neck, her body tense with anticipation.
And then I took her. Slowly, so she could feel every inch, and yet deep enough to draw that rare kind of moan a man hears only once in his life. I thrust in a rhythm that was as passionate as it was loving—each movement telling her she was mine, and at the same time, that she was cherished.
Her boots pressed against my hips, her nails dug into my shoulders. Her voice broke into ragged moans, and when I bent down to take her nipple into my mouth, she screamed my name so loud that Jered could have heard it on the other side of the palace.
We made love for a long time, until we both collapsed on the table, panting and laughing, as if nothing else in the world existed.
"You'll remember this," she whispered when I picked her up and carried her to bed. "Even if the whole North falls into hell