Elara’s POV

I stepped out of the lunar-infused bath, steam curling around me like whispered spells, the bathroom aglow with the soft pulse of Luminara’s enchanted crystals. My skin tingled, not just from the water’s magic but from the reckless thrill still coursing through me. I’d crossed a line with Thorne three nights ago, and the memory of his mouth on me, his hands gripping my flesh, fueled every pulse of my heart. Wrapping a towel around myself, I paused as music thumped through my speaker, a defiant rhythm against the mansion’s quiet. I needed noise to drown out the ache, the want that wouldn’t quit.

“Elara?” Thorne’s voice cut through the beat, echoing from downstairs.

My pulse spiked. I killed the music, letting the towel slip to the floor, my damp hair clinging to my shoulders. “I’m in the bathroom!” I called, swinging the door open just as he stepped into my chamber.

He froze, eyes locking on my bare form, jaw tightening before he snapped his mouth shut. “Elara, what the hell are you doing?” His voice was low, strained, but his gaze roamed, hungry, over my breasts, my hips.

I smiled, shrugging. “Just got out of the bath.” The air crackled, my magic humming beneath my skin, amplifying the heat between us.

“Put something on,” he said, but his eyes didn’t move, betraying him.

I stepped closer, cupping my breasts, teasing my nipples with a tug. “Do you like them, Thorne?” My voice was a whisper, daring him to lie.

He cursed, running a hand through his dirty blond hair. “Fuck, you know I do.” His control wavered, and I saw the warlock in him forty-seven, powerful, unraveling. “But this is wrong. You’re seventeen. If Harlan catches us…”

I tilted my head, batting my lashes. “Then we don’t let him. Touch me, Thorne. Please.” I stepped forward, closing the gap.

He growled, pushing my hands aside to cup my breasts himself. “This is so damn wrong,” he muttered, but his fingers kneaded, gentle yet firm, sending sparks through me. He sank to the edge of the tub, pulling me between his legs, his mouth claiming one nipple, tongue swirling.

I moaned, tangling my fingers in his hair, pressing him closer. “Yes, Thorne,” I gasped, my core aching as his teeth grazed me. His hands slid to my lower back, then gripped my ass, pulling me tight against his chest. I rubbed against him, desperate for friction, my clit brushing his shirt, the sensation electric.

“You’re too damn small,” he growled, sucking harder, nearly taking my whole breast into his mouth. “So fucking sweet.” He lifted my leg over his thigh, guiding me to straddle him. I ground against his jeans, the rough fabric igniting me further, his hands urging my hips to move.

“Dirty little sorceress,” he said, eyes locking with mine, dark with need. “Your daddy’s gonna kill me.”

I shook my head, pressing his face to my chest. “Harder,” I urged, and he obeyed, biting down until I let out a soft scream. The pleasure built, coiling tight, but the front door’s ethereal chime shattered the moment Harlan was home.

“Shit,” Thorne hissed, sucking one last time before pushing me off. “This stays between us, Elara. Promise.”

I nodded, smirking as he bolted from the room. My body thrummed, unsatisfied. I shut the door, stepping back into the bath, letting the water’s warmth envelop me. My fingers found my clit, circling fast as I whispered Thorne’s name, imagining his tongue instead. The release hit hard, waves crashing through me, but it wasn’t enough. I wanted him and wanted them both.

Dressed in a loose gown, I padded downstairs to the kitchen, where Harlan unpacked glowing vials from the market. Thorne stood by, casual but tense, his eyes avoiding mine.

“Hey, baby bird,” Harlan said, kissing my forehead as I hugged his waist. “Good day?”

I shot Thorne a mischievous glance, biting my lip. “Wonderful,” I said, stepping back. “Thorne’s staying for dinner, right? I made a star berry tart.”

Thorne swallowed, his gaze flicking to my chest, where my nipples pressed against the thin fabric. “If Harlan’s cool with it,” he said, voice tight.

“Don’t mind,” Harlan said, shrugging. “Takeout again. Rough day.”

I grinned, skipping upstairs to change, letting my hips sway. Harlan’s words followed me. “She’s turning into a beauty, huh?”

“Stunning,” Thorne replied, and I felt his eyes on me, even from below.

In the dining room later, we sat around a spread of summoned dishes, ether-roasted meats, and crystalized fruits. I chose a seat beside Thorne, my knee brushing his under the table. Harlan sat across, oblivious, talking about a recent ward repair.

“Mexican tonight?” I suggested, catching Harlan’s eye.

“Sounds good,” he said, brushing my hair back, his fingers lingering. I closed my eyes, savoring his touch, toes curling. Thorne’s hand found my thigh again, hidden, squeezing lightly.

“Fine by me,” Thorne said, voice steady despite the heat in his grip.

We ate, the air thick with unspoken tension. I leaned into Harlan’s touch when he patted my arm, then pressed closer to Thorne, my foot nudging his. Seraphina’s absence was a relief she’d have seen through this in a heartbeat.

After dinner, we moved to the living room, the forest’s glow seeping through the windows. Harlan announced he was showering, leaving me alone with Thorne on the couch.

I turned to him, pulling a blanket over my legs. “What happened up there… I don’t want to forget it,” I whispered, pouting.

He shook his head, rubbing his jaw. “You have to, Elara. You’re underage. I’d be banished or worse.”

“But you liked it,” I pressed, voice low. “My body is against yours, so wet for you.”

“Stop,” he hissed, fists clenching. “It was a mistake.”

I smirked, leaning closer. “Say it, Thorne. What am I?”

He grabbed my hair, tilting my head back, his other hand cupping my jaw. “A dirty little temptress,” he growled, eyes blazing. “You’re playing with fire, and I’m the damn fool falling for it.”

I reached between my legs, rubbing through my gown. His eyes followed, darkening. “I want your hands on me,” I whispered.

He leaned in, kissing me hard, tongue plunging deep. I moaned, his hand squeezing my breast. He broke away, pulling my face to his crotch, my cheek brushing his hardness through his jeans. “What do you want?” he murmured.

I nodded, mouth open, desperate, but he pushed me back, standing. “We need to be alone for this,” he said, and left without another word.

My heart pounded as I sat there, the blanket slipping. The mansion’s wards hummed, but a chill crept in a shadow beyond the window, eyes glinting red. Was someone watching? Or was it just the forest’s tricks?

I needed Harlan now, his arms to ground me. But what if he felt this pull too? And what if that shadow wasn’t just a dream?