Idan shook his head, his mouth twitching. ‘Stars over Sacra, you’re a wise, sweet, amazing woman. That’s why you’re a goddess above all, and my forever queen.’
He stepped closer, snagging her waist as he pulled her flush against his rock-hard body.
His lips crashed onto hers, the kiss desperate and grounding.
Within seconds, the kitchen floor was a mess of discarded clothes.
Idan lifted her on top of the marble counter, plumping her breasts, his mouth latching onto her nipple, while his other hand eased between her thighs.
Moments later, he slid lower, parting her pussy lips and making her writhe and moan as he drove her wild and brought her to pleasure.
Eventually, as the city lights bled through the expansive windows, Idan carried her to bed.
As he wrapped himself around her, Sheba tilted her head back to meet his glowing eyes. ‘Does this mean I’m on the mission to Rhesia?’
Idan studied her for a long beat, the internal struggle evident in his aureate gaze until he gave in with a sigh and chin raise.
‘Naam. You’re in, but if things get ugly, I’m going to have a hard time not tearing up this universe for you.’
‘Yes to that part of the deal,’ she laughed, tracing the line of his jaw. ‘With two gods at my side, what could go wrong?’
TheMáashìisurged through the pressurized silence of hyperspace, a silver needle threading the fabric of the cosmos.
Inside the galley, Sheba sat at the circular table for breakfast.
She played with the handle of her cup ofkahawawhile the two pillars of brooding intensity flanking her, Idan and Molan, also finished their beverages.
Bummed to be left out of the adventure, Rina had nonetheless remained on Eden II, caring for her young child.
Molan, a quiet man most times, was downright taciturn without her by his side.
Idan, however, seemed preoccupied with the upcoming meeting.
As if on cue, Mirage’s appeared with the mission brief.
She was all a glitter in an emerald diamante-studded camo jumpsuit and heeled boots.
‘Did I miss the dress code memo?’ Sheba asked, glancing down at her sober navy top and trousers, hair tied back, makeup minimal.
‘Honey, you know I love to switch it up, whenever I can,’ the demi-urge winked. ‘Now, sit up and pay attention, folks. This dossier is classified. Our arrangement with theDraquisOrder depends on our discretion. They are the Cinder-Born, and live in a shadowy world of subrosas, and don’t take too well to anyone sharing the secret of their identities.’
Sheba leaned forward as Mirage flicked on a glowing aqua holo display, opening a file with images and intel.
‘Each member of TheDraquisis rumored to be over a thousand years old. They emerged from the charred remains of a massacre when ancient foes within the Paladian empire slaughtered the Dross families of the seven lower-caste men in a purge. They forged a brotherhood from the ruins of a civilization that despised them. For a millennium, they’ve transmuted their grief into lethal ambition, evolving into daemons of war who seized the noble titles once held by the Paladians who discarded them.’
‘They are now Rhesia’s most potent unseen influence,’ Mirage continued. ‘Yet they remain street-born rebels beneath their tailored black silks. They’ve mastered a dual existence: a public empire of luxury jewelry and elite clubs, and a shadow facet of brutal military discipline. They revived Paladian alchemical secrets to forge star-gems and defense shields far more precise than any familiar technology. By harnessing stellar energy, they have expanded their reach across half the galaxy. Treat them with the highest respect, and you’ll receive the same in return. Betray them, and they’ll scorch your atoms to ash.’
With that exhortation, Mirage glimmered away to finalize the meeting location while the trio mulled over the dossier.
‘Thesekinaissound like badasses,’ Molan rasped as the gravitas of the impending encounter sank in.
‘Naam, never underestimate them,’ Idan muttered. ‘Sacrans, gods as we may be, we learned to avoid any Paladian, on this plane of mortal existence and on the immortal battlefields. Our asses got handed to us by them eons ago onThe Shattered Cluster Maw Firmament, and we’ve never forgotten the humiliation.’
Once the meal concluded, Molan retreated to the crew quarters, lost in pensive thought, muttering about calling Rina.
Sheba and Idan ascended to the bridge for their watch, stepping into a cockpit bathed in the violet radiance of the instrumentation.
Through the viewscreen, space appeared almost ethereal, caught between the internal glow of the consoles and the silver shards of light bleeding in from the void.
