Valaia’s body tensed as her climax overtook her, her cries muffled as her head pressed back against the pillows. Kalythra continued without hesitation, her mouth working fervently to draw out every ounce of pleasure from her servant. Valaia gasped, her body trembling as she tried to recover, but to her shock, Kalythra didn’t stop.

The princess’s tongue moved with unrelenting hunger, coaxing Valaia toward a second peak. Overwhelmed, Valaia gripped the sheets, her chest rising and falling rapidly as she neared the edge again.

“Princess, I… I can’t,” she whimpered, her voice trembling.

“You can, and you will,” Kalythra purred between strokes, her voice dripping with amusement and authority.

Valaia cried out again as her second release shook her body, leaving her utterly spent. She stared up at the princess with wide, exhausted eyes, her limbs limp and trembling. But Kalythra wasn’t finished.

With a fluid motion, Kalythra swung her leg over Valaia’s, positioning herself atop her servant. Their cores aligned, sending sparks of heat through Valaia’s already overstimulated body.

Kalythra leaned forward, her hands braced on either side of Valaia’s head as she gazed deeply into her eyes. “This is the last time,” she said, her voice a mix of sultry promise and cold command. “Until you honour your vow and kill those nobles.”

Valaia’s breath hitched as the princess pressed her hips down, the friction igniting a new wave of sensation.

“Bring me their heads,” Kalythra continued, her lips curling into a wicked smirk, “and only then will you earn the right to taste my body once more.”

The intensity in her gaze sent a shiver through Valaia, who could only nod weakly, the weight of the princess’s demand sinking in. This was no request; it was an order—one she couldn’t ignore.

*

Valaia limped down the halls, her bare feet echoing softly against the polished floors. Her body was exhausted, trembling from the princess’s relentless demands, but her mind was a hurricane of thoughts and questions. A deep frown etched itself onto her face, growing heavier with each step she took toward her chambers.

The princess’s words echoed in her ears like a haunting melody. Kill the nobles… bring me their heads… Why?

Why them?

Their faces flickered in her mind, vivid and clear, but she couldn’t recall why they mattered. Who were they to her? And what did the princess mean when she claimed they had sent her to kill her?

Her thoughts spiraled. Who am I? she wondered, clutching her temple as a sharp pain stabbed through her skull. Every attempt to unearth her past was met with a dense fog, impenetrable and maddening.

“What did I do before this?” she murmured to herself, her voice shaky. “Why can’t I remember?”

Her legs carried her forward, though she felt unsteady, as though she were a puppet whose strings were being manipulated by unseen hands. Her connection to reality felt weak, and the princess seemed to be the only constant, even as she made Valaia feel more confused and lost.

She stopped walking, leaning against the cool stone wall for support, her breaths shallow. Every time she was with Kalythra, her mind grew murkier, and her heart ached with a strange mix of desire and dread. A pit formed in her stomach as she recalled the princess’s smirk, her knowing gaze, her words laced with power and control.

Just what has this woman done to me?

Valaia pushed herself off the wall and made her way to her quarters. As much as her body begged for rest, her mind demanded answers. She would have to find them—if not from Kalythra, then from somewhere else. Before, it was too late.

*

A few days passed, and Valaia heard nothing from the princess. Each time she thought of attending to her needs, the princess’s chambers were eerily empty. The head maid, ever dismissive, waved her off with. ‘The princess is occupied with court duties,’ she would say.

Frustrated and uneasy, Valaia made her way back to her sleeping quarters. Her steps were heavy, her thoughts circling the unsettling silence of the princess. Something felt off, but she couldn’t place it.

As she reached her door, she paused, her eyes narrowing at the sight of something on her pillow. It was a small, plain envelope. Warily, she approached and picked it up. Sliding her finger under the seal, she unfolded the letter inside.

It was blank.

Her brow furrowed in confusion, but an instinct she couldn’t explain urged her to hold it up to the light of the nearby lamp. As the warmth of the flame touched the page, faint words materialise, scrawled in hurried, jagged script:

“Report back to the Dune.”

Her hands trembled, the letter slipping from her grip. A jolt of pain surged through her head, and suddenly, like a dam breaking, memories flooded back in vivid detail.

The mission. The nobles. Her purpose.

She staggered back, clutching the edge of the table for support as the fragmented pieces of her mind pieced themselves together. The dark magic she had been sent to investigate. The whispers of servants disappearing. The nobles’ warnings about Kalythra. And then…

She turned sharply, her gaze sweeping over her chamber as she paced, fragments of her memories falling into place like jagged shards of glass. She remembered the moment she first encountered Kalythra’s power. The black hole that had materialised in her presence, consuming the room in shadows.

Her breath quickened as the recollection of her own helplessness struck her. Being pinned to the ceiling, her body immobile and her will bent to Kalythra’s whims. The princess’s laughter echoed in her ears as she had struggled to resist the suffocating darkness.

And then… the servants. Valaia froze as the image of their faces surfaced—lifeless, drained. She had witnessed their end, the way Kalythra had absorbed their essence, leaving nothing behind.

Her hand gripped the edge of the table so tightly her knuckles whitened. What have I been doing here?

Her mind swirled with the weight of her returning identity and her original mission. She had been sent to uncover and report on Kalythra’s magic—a dangerous, forbidden power that threatened not only the nobles but the entire region. Yet she had been captured in the princess’s web, her purpose forgotten, her will fractured by seduction and magic.

Her gaze snapped back to the letter on the floor, and she picked it up, reading the words again.

“Report back to the Dune.”

Her hand clenched around the letter as she vowed, I’ll finish what I started. I’ll uncover the truth about Kalythra—even if it kills me.