Chapter 257 Bone Blade 🌶️

Chapter 257 Bone Blade 🌶️
He grabbed the back of my thighs. He pulled me tighter against his waist. He accelerated the pace. The relentless strikes sent waves of blinding pleasure crashing through my nervous system. The sensation wiped my mind clean. I forgot the war. I forgot the dead god. I forgot the freezing mountain outside our dome.

I only felt the man pinning me to the rock.

"Orson," I pleaded. The tension coiled tight in my stomach.

He felt the shift. He knew the breaking point.

He drove harder. The chaotic rhythm shattered my control.

The climax hit me. A ragged scream tore from my throat. My inner muscles clamped down hard. The golden spark, the holy light, the dark shadow, and the demon fire flared in unison inside my chest.

Orson hit his peak a second later. He let out a deep, guttural shout. He arched his back. He drove his hips forward with a final, brutal surge. He released his hot seed deep inside me.

His chest heaved. He collapsed forward, resting his forehead against my shoulder. I wrapped my arms around his neck, holding him tight. His mortal heart hammered a frantic beat against my skin.

We stayed tangled together. The heat dome maintained a perfect, warm sanctuary on the dead peak.

Orson lifted his head. He looked at my face. His gray eyes were bright and clear. The flirtatious arrogance faded, leaving a raw, honest devotion.

"The actress was a tragedy," Orson whispered. He brushed a damp strand of hair from my cheek. "The Queen is a masterpiece."

I smiled. I kissed his scarred jaw.

"Put your clothes on, demon," I told him. "The heat dome requires focus. I cannot hold it forever."

Orson laughed. He stepped back, lowering my feet to the wet stone.

We gathered our discarded clothes. I pulled the rough gray tunic over my head. I fastened the buckles of my leather trousers and pulled on my heavy boots. Orson dressed in his tunic and strapped the thick animal pelts over his broad shoulders. He pulled the wolf-fur hood over his dark hair.

The air inside the dome began to cool. I let the magic fade.

The freezing mountain wind rushed back in, biting at our exposed skin. The snow resumed its assault on the black rock.

I touched the jagged spikes of the Black Crown. It remained cold and heavy.

"We need to climb down," Orson stated. He rubbed his gloved hands together. "Vasilis will send a search party if we linger."

"Lead the way," I answered.

We walked to the edge of the plateau. The descent looked steeper than the climb. The gray storm clouds swirled below us, hiding the ice bridge and the chasm.

We stepped onto the narrow trail of loose shale.

A loud, echoing crack shattered the silence of the mountain.

It did not come from the rocks. It came from the sky.

I stopped. I looked up.

The bruised purple sky above the peak tore open. It was not a dimensional rift to Earth. It was a massive, swirling vortex of pure, concentrated shadow magic. The dark energy blotted out the pale light.

Orson gripped my arm. "The God is dead. Who opens a void?"

I reached for the dark matter blade in my mind, but I left it in the Citadel. I summoned the holy light to my hands.

A figure dropped from the swirling vortex.

The person landed on the black rock of the plateau with a heavy thud. The shadows dissipated, revealing a woman.

She wore armor forged from overlapping plates of dark, iridescent steel. A long cape of woven black feathers dragged behind her in the snow. Her skin possessed a pale, lunar glow. Her hair was a stark, bright white, braided tight against her skull. Her eyes burned with a fierce, violet fire.

She held a long, curved blade made of bone.

I did not recognize her. The four sparks inside my chest did not recognize her. She did not belong to the beast clans, the Night Court, the high heavens, or the infernal pits.

She belonged to the deep dark.

The woman looked at Orson. She sneered. Then, she locked her violet eyes on my face. She stared at the Black Crown.

"You locked the door to the stars, God-Queen," the woman spoke. Her voice carried over the howling wind, smooth and sharp like polished glass. "But you forgot to lock the basement."

I stepped in front of Orson. I raised my glowing hands. "Identify yourself."

The woman offered a cold, predatory smile.

"I am Nymeria Duskbane," she declared. She raised the bone blade, pointing the tip at my chest. "The creator kept my people chained in the deep earth for ten thousand years. You killed the warden. You broke the chains. We claim the surface today."