Smirking, Lycius turned as he exited the bedchamber, the echo of his footsteps fading into the vast corridors of the palace.
In his mind, he was rolling over with laughter—Xylara's struggle was too entertaining.
She wanted him, craved him, yet her pride would not allow her to surrender so easily. He knew her every impulse, every veiled glance, every subtle shift in her breathing. She could deny it all she wanted, but she belonged to him.
Xylara, though exhilarated by her newfound freedom within the palace, felt a lingering dread. Lana and Elizabeth were still here.
The memories of their power all those years ago were carved deep into her bones, a wound that had never fully healed. Yet, instead of letting fear consume her, her mind twisted toward something else—a scheme.
A plan took root, an attempt to provoke Lycius into claiming her without restraint. She would tempt him, push him, draw him in—only to put up a fleeting resistance before surrendering completely. The thought alone sent a an uncontrollable thrill through her.
And she despised feeling like this.
Lycius didn't know her exact plan, but he understood the probability of her weaving such a scheme. And so, he was prepared.
{Xylara's Focus}
Left alone in the bedchamber, Xylara exhaled slowly, steadying herself before standing from the luxurious, king-sized bed. Her feet moved with deliberate grace toward the in-suite bathroom, where she had used telekinesis to prepare a bath.
Steam from the boiling water had already begun to cloud the air.
The Desire Kind preferred heat over cold, their bodies naturally attuned to extreme temperatures—though not to the level of molten lava. Boiling water was soothing, a comfort rather than a torment.
She sank into the bath, closing her eyes as the heat seeped into her flesh, unwinding the tension coiling inside her. Her thoughts drifted, not toward her enemies, not toward her daughter, but toward him.
She cursed under her breath. Why? Why was her mind always drawn to him?
After a while, she emerged, water glistening against her flawless skin as she wrapped herself in the silken robes provided by the palace. Mentally, she braced herself.
She wasn't just stepping out into the halls of a stolen palace. She was stepping into the lair of her enemies.
With careful, measured steps, Xylara moved down the grand staircase at the end of the hallway. Each polished step gleamed beneath her bare feet, the golden accents on the obsidian marble a testament to the palace's unmatched beauty.
"Who would have thought... I would lose you this quickly."
The thought was bitter. This palace—her palace—the most exquisite stronghold in the entire continent, surpassing even the grandest kingdoms and empires. It had been the perfect nest for a Succubus Queen—until he took it.
Lycius, her master...no—
Her enemy.
She was still consciously in denial, but her body, soul, and mind had already surrendered.
A delicate aroma drifted into her nostrils, and a rare, genuine smile threatened to bloom on her lips—only to vanish the moment she realized what it was.
Lana's cooking.
The Dining Chamber...
Steeling herself, Xylara entered the vast dining chamber.
Seated at the long obsidian dining table, Vynessa was the first person she saw. Her daughter.
Their eyes met.
Xylara's heart skipped a beat.
She missed her—deeply, painfully. Just seeing Vynessa's face stirred something within her, a longing she couldn't put into words. Yet, she couldn't force herself to speak. Not after what she did.
Vynessa, unlike her mother, wasn't that desperate for reconciliation. She offered only a simple smile, distant yet unreadable.
Seated beside Vynessa, Elizabeth exuded murderous intent.
Xylara quickly averted her gaze, unwilling to engage with the unspoken threat.
A lingering feeling—
From the moment Xylara's bare foot had touched the polished floor of the dining hall, she felt it—the weight of his golden gaze.
It was unlike any other.
Hungry. Possessive. Absolute.
Lycius's eyes had dragged over her from head to toe, slow and deliberate, like a predator surveying its prey.
Her body heated under the attention, her succubus instincts betraying her resolve.
She had chosen a silken robe after her bath—thin, weightless, barely clinging to her curves. A garment meant for comfort, yet now, under his gaze, it felt like a mere illusion of modesty.
And then, a single sinful thought slithered into her mind.
Could he see through it?
A delicious shiver crawled down her spine at the possibility.
It was impossible, of course. But the way he looked at her, as if her robe were already discarded, meaningless… it felt like he could.
Heat pooled deep within her.
The rational part of her mind screamed at her, urging her to ignore it—to suppress the growing ache, the insatiable hunger blooming in the pit of her stomach.
But it was useless.
Because at the very core of her being, she wanted more.
More than just his gaze.
More than just the silent torment of his attention.
She wanted his hands on her.
To feel those sinfully elegant fingers explore what his gaze had already claimed.
To have him tear this fragile fabric apart and leave no room for questions—only submission.
Her lips parted slightly, but no words came.
Her breath hitched as his gaze finally moved away, releasing her from its delicious torment.
And yet, instead of relief, a single desperate plea echoed in the darkest corners of her mind.
"Why…?"
"Please… touch me."
She calmed herself—
Her eyes landed back on Lycius.
Inspecting him.
Seated at the King's Chair.
Her breath caught. She hadn't expected this.
At such a young age, Lycius was already the head of the family. The DragonBorn would never recognize someone weaker than them as their leader. That meant one of two things:
1. Lycius had the potential to surpass them.
2. He had already surpassed them.
The latter was unlikely, but even the possibility of the former sent a shiver of excitement through her.
She despised how much she enjoyed that realization.
YOU BITCH...
Her senses registered what she had been intentionally ignoring.
The murderous aura.
Her eyes shifted back to Elizabeth.
A husky, barely audible voice reached Elizabeth's ears alone.
"Aunt, calm yourself."
The shift was instant.
The suffocating pressure vanished, replaced by an unsettling mock harmony.
Xylara exhaled quietly, finally able to breathe.
But her relief was short-lived.
Because then—Lana entered.
The moment Lana stepped inside, the very air thickened.
Xylara was forced down.
It wasn't an overkill attack, but it was deliberate. Lana's presence alone was suppressing her, pressing upon her body like a silent command: kneel.
Xylara clenched her jaw.
Lana was careful—her wrath was controlled, measured. If she hadn't restrained it, the very planet would have cracked beneath them, and Xylara wouldn't just be struggling—she'd be dead.
There's a reason why she restrained herself.
Lycius hated unnecessary problems.
And so, Lana kept herself from making one.
But that didn't mean her murderous intent fade.
Golden eyes, both divine and ominous, flickered in Lana's direction.
The suppression ceased.
Unbeknownst to Xylara, it was not Lana's mercy that freed her.
It was Lycius's control.
His mana manipulation ensured that Lana's presence wouldn't bear down on her further.
Xylara, unaware of this unseen battle of wills, inhaled deeply. She had survived the first confrontation.
"..."
A sudden calmness settled over Lana.
It was abrupt, unnatural even, as though a storm had been swallowed by an unseen force. The shift was almost imperceptible, yet its weight was undeniable.
Xylara did not know why.
But she was grateful. Grateful to still be alive.
She remained silent, unwilling to probe further into what had caused Lana's sudden restraint. It was dangerous to question a predator when its fangs were still bared.
The morning passed without another explosive confrontation, yet the air remained thick with unspoken tensions.
Breakfast was unusually quiet.
It was a stark contrast to the lively, intense mornings they often shared—where Lycius's natural presence commanded the room, where Elizabeth would provoke, where Lana would laugh, and where Vynessa would engage, constantly provoking Lycius.
But today, the silence was suffocating.
And then, it was broken.
Lycius parted his lips, his expression as calm as still waters.
His face—young, innocent, untouched by the burdens of age—held an unnatural serenity. A face that should have been peaceful, harmonious even… and yet, there was something deeply unsettling about it.
For the voice that followed was not one of a child.
It was a King's.
Low, composed, and absolute.
There was no aggression, no raised volume, no need to assert dominance through force. His words alone carried the weight of authority.
His golden gaze fell upon Lana and Elizabeth.
A simple look, yet it demanded answers.
"Mother. Aunt."
The air shifted.
"May I ask…"
His words were deliberate, each syllable like a thread weaving an inescapable truth.
"What is the cause of such hostility toward Xylara?"
It was not merely a question.
It was a command veiled in inquiry.
A demand for the truth that could no longer be avoided.
Elizabeth's fingers tightened around the silver utensil in her grasp.
The polished metal groaned under the pressure, warping slightly—but she said nothing.
Lana, however, did not react immediately.
She merely stared at Lycius.
Her gaze was unreadable, but beneath it was something dangerous.
Something ancient.
For a moment, silence reigned once more.
Then, Lana set down her glass of wine with deliberate ease, the soft sound of it touching the table echoing far louder than it should have.
Slowly, she leaned forward, resting an elbow against the grand dining table, her fingers idly tracing the rim of the untouched plate before her.
Her lips curled—not into a smile, but into something else.
Something darker.
Her voice, when it came, was silken yet edged with steel.
"You truly wish to know?"
It was not an evasion.
It was a warning.
The room grew colder despite the palace's natural warmth, the tension thickening as if the very air was bracing for what was to come.
Golden eyes met golden eyes.
Lycius did not look away.
Lana's fingers stilled, her expression unreadable, her breath slow.
Then, finally, she spoke.
"Very well. You deserve to know the truth."
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A/N: Eye colour, clarity:
- Violet (Vynessa) (Xylara)
- Golden (Lycius) (Lana) (Elizabeth)
When angry:
- Midnight Purple (Vynessa)
-Violet (Xylara)
-Dark Gold (Lycius)
-Crimson (Lana) (Elizabeth)