The morning after the Arachne's demise, Alaric gathered the students, his voice carrying the weight of yet another supernatural crisis.
"A student was taken. Another was killed. This isn't just coincidence," he said, eyes scanning the crowd. "From now on, we need structure. A council—representatives for each faction."
I leaned back, letting the words wash over me.
I had already planned for this.
The vampires? Amelia—a princess in her own right—would lead them, molding them under my influence.
The werewolves? Initially, I'd intended to control them myself, but Brooke, an alpha in her own right, would keep them in line while I focused on bigger matters.
The centaurs? There was only one left—Eleonore. She had no competition, thanks to Malevorn's past atrocities. Her loyalty was unquestioned.
That left only the witches.
The obvious choice? Josie. Lizzie was too impulsive, too volatile. Even when she tried to help, she pushed people away. Penelope knew this all too well—actively sabotaging Lizzie's campaign while bolstering Josie's.
Not that it mattered.
The council was just a stepping stone for me.
I had my sights set on something far more interesting.
Landon.
Or more specifically—his *mother*.
Two reasons. First, I wanted her. Simple as that.
Second, I needed to know the truth. Did Landon inherit his Phoenix blood, or was it something Malevorn had forcibly *given* her?
Either way, the answer belonged to me.
When I suggested to Hope that Landon should seek out his mother, she didn't argue. Perhaps she even saw the merit in it. But before I left her for the night, I made sure she was *thoroughly* occupied—filling her throat and her body until she was too exhausted to do anything but collapse into sleep.
Afterward, I left her in her room, content in the knowledge that she wouldn't be thinking about Landon anytime soon.
But my night was far from over.
Emma was waiting.
The student counselor. My *pregnant* student counselor.
I found her in her office, where I made sure she felt every ounce of my attention—reaffirming her place, nurturing the life she carried, and ensuring that she understood the balance I maintained between all my women. They weren't used to it—not like in other worlds I had ruled. Here, they needed *guidance*.
And I was more than willing to provide it.
After my rounds were complete, I finally turned my attention back to the game at hand.
Alaric had left on a journey, heading toward a hidden cabin deep in the forest.
Dorian had captured something.
A Dryad.
I followed, my curiosity piqued.
Upon arriving at the secluded cabin, my gaze settled on the Dryad before me. She was stunning—hair flowing in shades of red and gold, as if autumn had woven itself into her very being. Her emerald eyes held a depth that only centuries of existence could carve, and intricate tree-like markings adorned the edges of her face, seamlessly merging into her hairline. Draped in a dress woven from living leaves, she stood as a fragment of a world long forgotten.
Like the other creatures before her, she sought the dagger—desperate to free herself from what she called *the darkness*. She regarded us with quiet suspicion, distrust evident in the way her fingers curled slightly, as though bracing for another betrayal.
When Alaric and Dorian questioned her, she was clear—she did not trust humans.
But she offered a bargain. If they found Oliver—the man she once loved—then she would believe in them and answer their questions. With a sigh, she removed a ring from her hand, the only remnant of the love she had clung to.
Dorian and Alaric exchanged glances before nodding, deciding to search for Oliver themselves. That left me **alone** with her.
I leaned against the wall, watching her. "So tell me," I mused, "how does it feel to wake up and realize that time moved on without you?"
She hesitated before speaking, her voice soft but steady. "I expected the world to change. I did not expect to be… forgotten."
I nodded, stepping closer, watching as she stiffened slightly at my presence. "Then let me tell you what has become of it. The magical creatures you once knew? Hiding. Suppressing what they are. Forced to blend in with humans, pretending to be something lesser."
Her eyes darkened, curiosity flickering beneath the surface. "Why would they *hide*?"
I smirked. "Because humanity fears what it doesn't understand. Fear breeds ignorance. That ignorance turns into violence. There are those who hunt us, calling us *monsters*. And then there are those who fall in love with our kind… but very few are strong enough to stay."
She studied me, the weight of my words settling over her. "Love should be strong enough to overcome such things."
I chuckled, tilting my head. "Love is rarely as strong as people claim it to be."
Her expression faltered slightly, and I knew my words struck deeper than she let on.
I leaned in, voice low and deliberate. "You already know, don't you? That Oliver has moved on. That the love you waited for was nothing more than a fading memory to him."
Her breath hitched, and for a moment, she said nothing. But then, quietly, she whispered, "Hope is not so easily lost."
I held her gaze, amusement flickering through me. "Hope is a fine thing. But clinging to ghosts? That's just *self-inflicted torment*."
She inhaled sharply but did not refute me. Instead, she studied me, something shifting behind her eyes. Finally, she asked, "And what do you suggest?"
A slow, knowing smile curved my lips. "You're free now. The world has changed, and you have two choices—waste your second chance chasing a man who no longer remembers you… or follow someone who can offer you **something better**."
She studied me, her silence stretching long enough for me to see the moment she made her decision.
When she finally spoke, it was with quiet certainty. "Then I will follow you."
Satisfied, I stepped back. "Good choice."
Moments later, Dorian and Alaric returned with their findings. Oliver had been found… but he remembered **nothing** of his past with the Dryad. His love had long since faded, and worse—he had moved on, now bonded to a vampire woman.
Pain flickered in the Dryad's expression, but when her gaze met mine, there was no surprise. Only the quiet understanding that she had already accepted my words as truth.
She turned to Oliver, offering him a small, sad smile. "I'm sorry. I must have mistaken you for someone else."
Alaric, ever perceptive, saw the weight of what had just transpired. He understood loss better than most—his wife Josette had been ripped from him in a similar fashion.
As Oliver left, I moved to the Dryad's side, my fingers brushing against the magical bindings that held her. With a mere flick of my power, they disintegrated into nothing.
Dorian stared in shock, but Alaric barely reacted anymore. He was growing used to the things I could do.
"I told you I would set you free," I murmured, watching as she flexed her fingers, marveling at her restored freedom.
She turned to me, something unreadable in her gaze. "And what would you have me do now?"
A slow smirk played on my lips. "You wanted purpose. You'll have it. The young ones at the school—innocent souls, untouched by the cruelty of the world—need guidance. They need someone who understands the balance of nature and magic. You will be their teacher."
For a moment, she simply looked at me. Then, with a slow nod, she accepted.
With everything settled, we returned to the school—only to find that Landon had been **voted out**.
It was of little concern to me, though I knew Lizzie would be upset about not being chosen as the witches' representative. Anticipating this, I reached out with my mind, linking with my maids to locate her.
Once I knew where she was, I sent an order—have them help the Dryad settle in, integrate her into the school, and ensure she formed the **right** connections.
After all, I had just acquired something far more valuable than a lost love story.
And I had no intention of wasting it.
As I find Lizzie in the gym, her frustration palpable, her knuckles white from gripping the punching bag.
She looks at me, **anger and need** flashing in her eyes. Before she can speak, I grab her waist and **pull her into a bruising kiss.**
She melts into me, her frustration turning into something **else—something primal.**
"Take me," she breathes against my lips, **desperate, hungry.**
I **don't hesitate.**
With a single thought, I **teleport us** straight to her room. The instant we land on her bed, she gasps—more from anticipation than surprise. I pin her beneath me, my hands **tearing away her clothes**, my lips devouring every inch of her skin.
"Ahhh… yes… more," she moans, arching her back, pressing her bare body against mine, **grinding against me** in sheer desperation.
"You want more?" I whisper, teasing her as I trail kisses down her neck, across her collarbone, lower…
"God, YES!" she cries, her legs wrapping around me, **pulling me in.**
The moment I enter her, she **screams my name,** her nails raking down my back. Her body is **tight, hot, drenched in need.** I move slow at first, making her feel **every inch of me**, savoring the way she **gasps and shudders beneath me.**
But Lizzie doesn't want slow.
"Faster… HARDER," she pleads, her hips bucking up against me, **demanding more.**
I obey.
The bed **creaks violently** as I slam into her over and over, her moans turning into **high-pitched cries.**
"AHH! YES! God, don't stop!" she wails, her fingers tangled in my hair as she **loses herself completely.**
I grip her thighs, angling deeper, harder. **The room is filled with the sound of skin slapping against skin, the headboard smacking against the wall, and Lizzie's moans—pure, unfiltered pleasure.**
"Ahhh! Yes, yes! Ohhh—fuck!"
She's **close**, her entire body trembling beneath me. But before she can tip over the edge, she **flips us over, straddling me.**
Her golden hair is **wild, her eyes dark with lust.** She bites her lip, rolling her hips, moving slow—**torturing me.**
"You're mine," she whispers, dragging her nails down my chest. Then she slams down on me, making me groan **deeply.**
She rides me **hard and fast**, her head thrown back, her moans turning into **shameless screams.**
"OH GOD! AHHH! YESSS!"
The bed **slams against the wall**, shaking under the intensity of her movements. Her hands grip my shoulders, **her body writhing above me, lost in pure ecstasy.**
I grab her hips and thrust **up** into her, hitting that spot that makes her **sob in pleasure.**
Her cries turn **higher, sharper,** until—
"AHHH! FUUUCK—YESSS!"
Her body **convulses**, her walls clenching around me as she **screams her release.** The sound of it, the sight of her completely **undone above me,** sends me over the edge. I pull her against me as I groan deeply, spilling into her, **claiming her completely.**
She collapses on top of me, both of us **breathless, sweating, completely spent.**
For a long moment, the only sound in the room is the **ragged rise and fall of our breathing.** Then Lizzie lets out a **satisfied, breathless giggle.**
"You better not think we're done," she whispers against my neck, her voice still husky with desire.
I smirk.
The **night is far from over.**
As Lizzie lay sprawled across the bed, her body still **glowing with satisfaction,** she let out a deep, contented sigh. Her bare skin was slick with sweat, her golden hair tangled across the pillows. I traced lazy circles on her thigh, watching as she **shivered beneath my touch.**
She turned her head toward me, **a satisfied smirk curling her lips.** "God… that was…" She let out a breathless laugh, still trying to catch her breath.
I smirked, brushing my fingers down her spine. "Perfect?"
"Perfect doesn't even cover it," she murmured, shifting closer, pressing her warm body against mine. Her fingers danced over my chest, her eyes half-lidded. "If you keep spoiling me like this, I might start thinking you're obsessed with me."
I chuckled, flipping us so she was beneath me again, her **soft gasp turning into a needy sigh.** "Maybe I am," I whispered against her lips, teasing her, feeling her pulse quicken beneath me.
She bit her lip, her hands roaming my back. But then her expression softened, and she nestled her face against my neck. "I needed this," she admitted quietly. "After losing that vote… after everything… You make it all disappear."
I kissed her forehead, my fingers brushing through her hair. "And you'll get stronger. You're already incredible, Lizzie."
She sighed, playing with the strands of my hair. "Maybe. But I want more. I don't want to just be the girl people overlook."
I smirked. "Then how about I take you somewhere that'll change everything?"
She blinked up at me, curiosity flickering in her blue eyes. "What do you mean?"
I leaned in, my lips brushing against her ear. "My world. Time moves faster there, which means **we can train, grow stronger, and prepare for whatever comes next.** You, Josie, Hope, Emma, the Dryad—even the dragon. We'll have all the time we need to unlock our full potential."
Lizzie's breath hitched. "You're serious?"
"Completely." I pulled back just enough to see her reaction, and her lips slowly curved into a wicked grin.
"Then what are we waiting for?" she whispered, her **legs wrapping around me again.**
I chuckled, pressing her back into the sheets. "Patience, princess. You might need a little more **energy** before we leave."
Lizzie **moaned softly** as I kissed down her body, and just like that, the night started **all over again.**
Now as Lizzie being sprawled around the bed
With Landon leaving and the necromancer defeated, I anticipate at least three weeks free of supernatural threats.
Since the dagger is supposed to teleport away, and with Landon gone, there's no immediate danger. This gives me the perfect opportunity to take Josie, Lizzie, Hope, Emma, the dragon, and the Dryad to my world. Time flows differently there, allowing them to train, grow stronger, and adapt to new magical and energy systems while ensuring our daughters are safe and thriving. This will be their chance to unlock their full potential before we return.
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