Kalythra’s breaths came in ragged gasps as she writhed on the bed, her hand moving faster, her body arching off the silken sheets. The thoughts of Valaia consumed her—her strong, silent demeanour, the way she obeyed without question, the way her lips trembled with hesitance yet her body yielded to every command.

The princess’s core throbbed harder as she imagined Valaia’s return, her servant dropping to her knees before her, eyes filled with guilt and longing, ready to beg for forgiveness or perhaps just permission to touch her again.

“Yes…” Kalythra hissed through gritted teeth, her free hand gripping the sheets tightly. “You’ll crawl to me… You’ll worship me like the obedient servant you are.”

She moaned loudly, her body trembling as waves of pleasure crashed through her, leaving her trembling but far from satisfied. Her hunger for Valaia’s presence only grew with each passing moment.

Throwing her head back against the pillows, she laughed again—sharp, breathless, tinged with mania.

But the room felt too quiet, too empty without her servant’s presence. Kalythra’s eyes narrowed, a predatory glint flashing in them. She could not wait. She will not wait.

Her magic surged within her, dark tendrils snaking from her fingers as she reached out to the bond she had subtly forged with Valaia. It pulsed in her mind like a chain, faint but strong enough to pull.

“Where are you, my servant?” she whispered, her voice dripping with power as she closed her eyes and focused. The bond buzzed faintly, and she caught a glimpse—a fleeting image of Valaia, somewhere in the city streets, her face cloaked in shadow as she moved.

“Foolish girl,” Kalythra murmured with a dark smile. “Did you think you could hide from me? You’ll feel my call, my pull, and you’ll come running. You always will.”

The tendrils of her magic grew stronger as she poured more of her energy into the bond, the dark aura filling the room. It snaked beyond the clouds, seeking Valaia like a predator stalking its prey.

“Alia…” she purred, her voice both a whisper and a command. “Return to me. Your princess needs you.”

The connection hummed in response, and Kalythra’s smirk deepened as she felt the subtle shift—the moment Valaia’s mind registered the pull. The servant wouldn’t resist. She couldn’t.

Kalythra lay back against the pillows, her body humming with anticipation. She would make Valaia pay for her absence—for daring to leave her side, even if it was by her own orders.

And when Valaia returned, the princess vowed she would show her servant the true depths of her power, her dominance, and her insistent need.

“Run back to me, little servant,” Kalythra whispered to the empty room. “You’re mine… until your last breath.”

Valaia was walking through the dimly lit streets of the capital, her face hidden beneath the hood of her cloak, when she felt the tug—a sharp, almost painful pull in her chest. She paused mid-step, clutching at the fabric over her heart as the sensation coursed through her.

“No,” she muttered to herself, shaking her head. “Not now.”

The bond was unmistakable, a dark thread woven deep into her soul that responded only to the princess. Kalythra was calling her. The power in the command was undeniable, but she clenched her fists, fighting the pull with all her might.

She stumbled into a shadowy alley, leaning against the cold stone wall, panting.

“Damn her,” Valaia growled, her teeth gritted. “Damn her magic. Damn her control over me.”

But deep inside, she felt something else—a treacherous spark of longing that she couldn’t fully suppress. Despite everything, Kalythra’s call wasn’t just an order; it was a promise. A promise of pleasure, power, and a twisted sense of belonging that Valaia couldn’t explain.

The bond tugged again, stronger this time, nearly bringing her to her knees.

Her lips curled into a bitter smirk. “You really can’t wait, can you, princess?”

Valaia adjusted her hood, pushing away from the wall as she began walking again. Her pace quickened, her footsteps light. Every step toward the palace felt heavier, her mind a battlefield of conflicting emotions—resentment, desire, fear, and anticipation.

When she finally reached the palace gates, the guards didn’t question her. They recognised her as one of the princess’s personal servants and let her pass without hesitation.

Valaia’s boots echoed softly on the marble floors as she ascended the grand staircase. The air grew thicker as she approached the princess’s chambers. The pull of the bond was like a storm raging within her.

She hesitated outside the princess’s door, her hand hovering over the ornate handle. For a moment, she considered turning away, running from the palace, from Kalythra, from the dark magic that bound her.

But then she heard it—a soft, sultry laugh from within the room, dripping with satisfaction.

Her resolve crumbled.

Valaia pushed the door open and stepped inside.

Kalythra was lounging on the bed, completely bare, her body glistening in the faint candlelight. Her dark hair cascaded over her shoulders, and her eyes gleamed with a mixture of amusement and hunger as they locked onto Valaia.

“You’re late,” she said, her voice low and teasing. “I don’t like waiting, servant.”

Valaia dropped to one knee, bowing her head. “My princess,” she said, her voice steady despite the storm inside her. “I have returned.”

Kalythra laughed softly, sitting up and leaning forward. “Oh, my dear Alia… you never truly left me. Did you think you could resist my call? That you could escape me?”

Valaia said nothing, keeping her gaze on the floor.

“Look at me,” Kalythra commanded.

Valaia obeyed, lifting her head to meet the princess’s gaze. The intensity in Kalythra’s eyes sent a shiver down her spine.

“Tell me,” Kalythra purred, sliding off the bed and walking toward her servant, her bare feet silent on the rug. “Did you bring me what I asked for?”

Valaia reached into her cloak and pulled out the wrapped bundle. She held it out to the princess, who took it with delicate fingers, unwrapping it to reveal the noble’s ring.

Kalythra smiled, a dark, satisfied smile. “You’ve done well, my servant.”

She leaned down, her fingers brushing Valaia’s chin, tilting her head up. “But I need more from you. More proof of your loyalty, your devotion.”

Valaia’s heart pounded as Kalythra’s lips brushed against her ear.

“Strip,” the princess whispered, her voice like silk and steel. “Show me that you’re mine.”