Chapter 36 - To Lorvayne
Liam slipped back into the palace hall, boots scuffing marble as torchlight flickered over his cloak, now laced with a faint musk from Princess isabella's cunt clinging to his skin. His breath steadied, the quickie's heat still buzzing under his ribs; his sword swayed at his hip, grip warm, but his hands twitched restless—hiding it took a quick mask.
The grand hall glowed dim—guards stood rigid, advisors huddled near the king's map—Lysandra, Selene, and Erynn lingered by a pillar, their shadows sharp in the firelight.
He strode up, face blank, voice gruff. "Heading to bed—night's done," he said, keeping it short. Lysandra glanced over, silver hair catching torch glow, her eyes steady. "Sleep well—dawn's soon," she said, tone dry but calm, arms crossed.
Selene grinned faint, tail swaying slow—crimson eyes flicked over him, nose twitching subtle, but she just nodded. "Night, Hero," she said, claws tapping her thigh—quiet for once.
Erynn smiled soft, golden curls spilling; her green eyes warm. "Goodnight—rest up," she said, staff tapping stone gently.
This 𝓬ontent is taken from freeweɓnovel.cѳm.
He grunted, turning off—Isabella's bloody lips flashed in his head, her pussy's taste lingering—boots echoed as he left.
Dawn cracked red over the palace, spilling through arched windows as Liam rejoined them in the hall—cloak fresh, but his hands flexed, restless still. The king stood at the map table—gray beard framing a stern face, crown dull under morning light—his voice rolled deep as they approached.
"New task—Lorvayne, coastal trade city, west shore," he said, pointing to ink curling like waves. "Ships, gold, allies we need—Maltheris hits borders; Lorvayne's our backbone. Go—secure their steel," he said, gaze heavy on Liam—Hero, unspoken weight.
Liam's blood stirred, action beckoned, and he itched for it. "Lorvayne—got it," he said, voice firm, hand brushing his hilt. Lysandra nodded, eyeing the map. "Coast's a haul—fast ride, though," she said, silver eyes cool. Selene smirked, tail flicking. "Sea's better than this stink—let's move," she said, eager. Erynn's green eyes brightened, staff firm. "Allies—smart, we're thin," she said, voice steady.
They rode out at first light—Liam's horse led, hooves pounding dirt; Lysandra's gray mare flanked left, Selene's black gelding right, Erynn's horse steady behind. The palace faded to a blur; fields stretched wide, then salted plains rose—sea air crept in, briny and sharp, curling Liam's hair with damp. An hour in, Selene spurred closer—her tail lashed, as she leaned in, voice dropping to a whisper near his ear. "Had fun last night, huh? Smells like rich, velvet kind," she teased, grin sharp, her breath hot on his neck.
Liam's grin twitched—caught clean; he kept his eyes on the road, voice low.
"How'd you know?" he asked, tone rough but steady.
She laughed soft, nose twitching as she pulled back a fraction. "Smelled it off you—sweet and wet. Didn't say shit back there—king, advisors, too many ears," she said, claws flexing, her smirk widening—playful but knowing. He snorted, "Good nose—keep it quiet," he said, spurring ahead; she chuckled, falling back.
Lorvayne loomed by noon—ships jammed the harbor, sails snapping in gusts; markets sprawled over docks—fish rot, spice, and sweat thick in the air—stalls groaned under crates, merchants barking over gulls' screeches. Cobbles gleamed wet from spray; barrels of cod and amber wine towered—sailors reeled, rum-drunk, as traders waved silks in bright chaos. Sea air whipped through—salt and tar stinging—Lorvayne thrummed, a trade pulse of gold and grit. Liam reined up, boots hitting stone; his cloak caught wind—Drenvar's dust drowned by coast salt—Alina's scent lost here.
Lysandra dismounted, silver hair whipping free; her eyes swept the docks, cool and sharp. "Bustling—means allies, if they bend," she said, voice cutting air. Selene leapt down, sniffing deep—tail flicked, grin sly. "Fish and sea—beats palace any day," she said, crimson eyes scanning. Erynn slid off, staff tapping cobbles; golden curls bounced, green eyes wide at the mess. "It's wild—hope they're ours," she said, voice rising over noise.
They pushed through—crowds parted, eyeing Liam's sword, Selene's claws—when a figure stepped from a dockside alley, blocking them. Tall, broad—bronze armor glinted, longsword slung low; red hair cropped short, green eyes sharp with a smirk that pricked. "New Hero in Lorvayne? Thought you'd shine more—look like road trash," he said, voice smooth, edged—hand on hilt, stance bold, sizing them up.
Liam's restlessness sparked, he stepped forward, grin faint but hard. "Name's Liam—yours, shiny?" he said, voice rough, hand near steel. The rival tilted his head, smirk growing. "Kael—summoned too, quieter. Lorvayne's my turf—prove you belong," he said, green eyes flicking over them—rival, not ally, yet.