Lustborn

The temple had no stars—just the endless ache of stone ceilings and breathless corridors soaked in incense and silence. But deep below, where secrets lived, something more ancient stirred.

And she—she was the one awakening it.

Her name didn't matter here. In this place, she wasn't acolyte or sinner. She was Lustborn. Touched. Claimed.

And no vow could cleanse it from her blood.

She'd followed the pull blindly through torch-lit stone corridors until she found herself beneath the altar halls, deep in the temple's bones. The pendant around her neck—a relic they gave her during the Ember Rite—had begun to warm again. Not painfully. More like a hand pressing to her chest… reminding her of who she now was.

But she wasn't alone.

The air had grown heavier.

Something in the dark breathed with her.

"I never left," the demon murmured, voice sliding like silk across her skin. "You keep pretending I'm only there when you sleep, but I've been in your bones for days now. Your heartbeat has started to echo mine."

She gritted her teeth and turned sharply.

"I'm not yours."

"Then why do you come here, night after night? Why do you press your thighs together when you think of him, and it's me that answers?"

Her throat tightened. She hated him for saying it—and hated herself for knowing it was true.

He wasn't a shadow anymore. He was real. Not just because of the voice, but because she'd begun to change. Her senses were sharper. Her skin craved touch. Her dreams bled into her waking thoughts.

She was no longer alone in herself.

But she didn't expect Cael to find her there.

---

He came like a storm—wet hair plastered to his forehead, chest rising fast, lips parted like he'd run all the way down to find her.

His eyes met hers.

And they both knew.

They couldn't keep pretending.

"I couldn't stay away," he said, voice low, rough around the edges.

She wanted to run. She wanted to throw herself into his arms and scream all the things she couldn't say. But she stayed still.

"I don't know if it's me, or him," he said, stepping forward. "But I feel you. Every night. Every time I try to shut it down, it only gets stronger."

"You should leave."

"I tried."

He was closer now. Close enough that her skin tingled.

"What happened in the garden," he whispered, "it wasn't just him, was it?"

Her eyes burned. "No."

He reached for her.

Not hesitantly. Not asking.

His hand found her jaw and tilted it toward him. She could feel his pulse racing.

"I remember it. All of it. Your mouth. Your hands. The way you said my name like you were afraid it would break you."

"Stop—" she whispered.

But he didn't.

His lips were on hers, and the air disappeared.

---

There was no hesitation. No calculation.

Only heat.

Only the ache that had built for days with no release.

She pressed back against him like she'd been drowning and his body was breath. Her fingers tangled in his wet shirt, dragging him closer until their chests touched. Her pendant burned between them, but she didn't care.

He groaned against her mouth, and it wasn't just desire—it was need. Like something ancient had rooted in him, too.

His hands found her waist, gripping tight. Their kiss deepened. Grew frantic. She gasped against his lips, but he only kissed her harder.

Her back hit the stone wall with a thud, and he pinned her there.

She moaned.

Not just from pleasure—but from surrender.

Their lips parted just long enough for her to breathe his name, and then he claimed her mouth again. Their tongues moved like they'd always known each other. Like every part of them had waited for this.

His hand slid under her tunic, fingertips brushing her bare skin.

She didn't stop him.

She arched into him instead.

---

"He's mine now too."

The demon's voice slid through her mind like a blade dipped in honey.

She tensed—but not in fear.

She liked it.

The thought of the demon watching, of Cael touched by him—it only deepened the heat between her legs.

Was that her?

Or him?

She didn't know anymore.

And didn't care.

Cael lifted her, and her legs wrapped around his waist as if by instinct. The stone wall scraped her back, but she didn't feel pain. Only the unbearable friction where their bodies met.

He groaned. "Tell me to stop."

She clutched his face. "Don't you dare."

---

What followed was not gentle.

It was raw.

Messy.

Real.

Their clothes half-ripped, breath caught in gasps between kisses, hands desperate to feel skin. The temple's cold stone floor beneath them only made their heat more unbearable.

When he finally entered her, it was like an electric current shot through her soul.

She cried out.

He shuddered.

They moved together like they were trying to burn the past away. Like they didn't know where one ended and the other began.

And the demon?

He didn't interfere.

He watched. Pleased.

Because she didn't resist anymore.

Not the hunger.

Not the power.

Not the truth.

She wasn't innocent. Wasn't pure.

She was his.

And Cael?

He might be next.

---

After, she lay on the cold stone, chest still rising and falling, his arm wrapped protectively around her waist.

Cael pressed a kiss to her shoulder. "I'm not scared of what you are."

She closed her eyes. "You should be."

He didn't answer.

But deep in her gut, the demon laughed.

Because what they'd started could never be undone.

And the temple would never forgive them for it.