From inside the closet, Lumi's world shrank to that narrow strip of light and the tangled bodies on the bed. She saw Lucen's back—muscles flexing, sweat shining, every line of him so different from the gentle, sickly boy she'd undressed so many times before. Now he was wild, powerful, brutal.
He held Lady Arwen so tight, Lumi thought he might break her. His hand gripped her neck, the other twisting her nipple, pinching, making her arch and moan.
The way Arwen moved—her hips pushing back, her thighs spread shamelessly, her moans getting louder and rougher—wasn't noble at all. She sounded like a woman starving for him, desperate for every savage thrust.
Lumi could barely breathe. She squeezed her own mouth with one hand, the other sliding deeper into her panties, finding herself already slick—soaked, really.
She pressed her palm to her pussy, rubbing slow, careful circles against her clit, barely daring to move.
Arwen's words drifted across the room, broken and wild:
"Yes, Lucen—more, please, harder! Only you—no one else could ever—ahhh, gods—!"
Slap—slap—smack—
Lumi shuddered as Lucen's hand left red prints on Arwen's ass, his cock slamming in again and again, her mistress gushing, squirting, screaming in pleasure. Each sound echoed inside Lumi, sending heat burning up her neck, filling her with something she'd never felt before.
She watched as Lucen bent his mother even tighter, spreading her, biting her shoulder, his words so filthy Lumi's whole body shook.
"That's it, Mother, let me hear you. Let me see you break for me—show me how much you love being my filthy whore."
Arwen answered with a scream, her whole body spasming. Lumi pressed her own hand harder against her pussy, biting her lip so hard she tasted blood, her hips rolling desperately, wanting—needing—to cum along with them, to feel what they felt.
The closet was hot, the air thick with sex and forbidden need. Lumi's breathing quickened, her legs trembling as she watched Lucen use Arwen again and again, rough and relentless, the kind of fucking Lumi had only ever imagined, never believed was real.
Her body betrayed her—her own climax building, her thighs clenching, her mouth pressed so tight to her hand she could barely muffle the helpless whimpers and gasps escaping her lips.
She was lost, overwhelmed, aroused beyond anything she'd ever known—her whole world the darkness, the crack of light, and the raw, savage love on the bed.
'Please', Lumi begged in her mind, 'don't let them hear me. Please, don't stop. Please… gods…'
And as Arwen came again, screaming Lucen's name, Lumi came too—silent, trembling, eyes wide, hand slick with her own mess, heart pounding in terrified, delirious, wicked delight.
After what felt like an eternity, the bed finally went silent. Lumi heard Lucen and Lady Arwen murmuring, the soft sound of their feet and the door opening. She stayed perfectly still, barely daring to breathe, until she heard the distant sound of water running—showers, finally, after everything.
Only then did Lumi let herself move, every muscle stiff and aching, her body still tingling from her own secret climax. She slowly eased the closet door open and peered out. The room was a mess—sheets soaked, pillows thrown, the scent of sex thick in the air. Her own scent mingled with it, slick and musky, lingering right where she'd knelt for hours.
Her heart thundered in her chest as she slipped out, smoothing her dress and wiping at her flushed cheeks. She could still feel the dampness between her thighs, the stickiness of her release. Lumi blushed furiously, glancing once at the bed, then down at her trembling hands.
She swallowed, hurried to the window, and whispered a basic water spell. A cool mist swept through the closet, washing away some of the scent—enough, she hoped, that neither Lucen nor Arwen would ever notice what she'd done, what she'd seen.
She rushed out the door, closing it softly behind her, the pulse in her throat wild. Every step down the hall, her mind raced—replaying what she'd witnessed, the way Lucen's body moved, the way Lady Arwen screamed and begged for more, the way Lumi herself had lost control in the shadows.
No one can ever know. No one…
She pressed her hand over her mouth, shivering, the forbidden thrill of it still humming through her veins.
That was a story she'd never be able to tell anyone.
But the memory burned bright and hot in her chest, impossible to forget.
—————————————————————————————————————
Days later.
The day was bright, the morning air crisp and full of distant birdsong. Out front of the Ferndale estate.
Lucen stood tall in the sunlight—a different boy than he'd been mere months ago. His golden hair, now trimmed and shaped, gleamed in the light. The side bangs perfectly framed his sharp, beautiful features, letting his purple eyes stand out, clear and confident.
He was healthy, lean, and no longer fragile or sickly, clothed in a white noble's traveling attire with fine embroidery and a tailored fit that spoke of both status and taste.
Arwen stood close, fighting the sadness in her smile. She pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead, brushing a stray hair from his cheek.
"The journey to Astrea will be long, Lucen. Be cautious. Trust your instincts. And remember—"
She looked around, making sure none of the staff were watching. Satisfied, she pulled him close and pressed a soft, lingering kiss to his lips—quick, hidden, but full of warmth.
"I'll miss you, my darling. Make me proud."
Lucen smiled, a flash of mischief in his eyes, but gratitude and affection shining through.
"Thank you, Mother. I'll see you soon."
He squeezed her hand one last time before climbing into the waiting carriage.
Inside, the morning light spilled through the window, illuminating Lumi where she sat at the front, reins in hand. She wore her usual maid's uniform, hair tied neatly back, cheeks a little flushed as she glanced back to check on him.
She met his eyes in the small coach mirror, giving a tiny, nervous smile.
"All ready, Young Master?" she asked, voice soft but full of meaning.
He nodded, settling in, glancing back at the estate and the woman waiting on the steps, waving, golden hair fluttering in the breeze.
The carriage rolled out, wheels crunching on gravel, leaving the Ferndale grounds behind.
Lucen's journey to Astrea Academy had finally begun.
The soft sway of the carriage and the muffled clop of hooves on the road gave Lucen time to think as the estate faded behind him. He shifted in his seat, letting his eyes wander out the window—rolling hills, patches of wildflowers, the old oak lining the road that he'd stared at through the glass as a child, when he was too weak to leave his room.
A month ago, he'd been barely more than a ghost, stuck in bed, not even able to hold a pen for long. Now, his body felt strong—lean, but sturdy. Third-circle mage. Not a monster, not a prodigy, not by Astrea standards… but no one in history had jumped from sickly first circle to solid third in just weeks. Not without a "system." Not without—he smirked, a little—his mother's blessing, body, and all her twisted devotion.
His thoughts flicked to her just now—her goodbye, the secret kiss, the way her eyes never left him until the carriage rolled away.
She'd given him everything.
And in return… she'd become utterly, hopelessly his.
When her "corruption" finally hit a hundred, the system rewarded him again—a new skill. He glanced at his palm, flexed his fingers, feeling the echo of that magic, the memory of the Radiant Shield sliding over his skin like armor.
All those desperate, struggling magicians, years toiling for a taste of power, and he'd stolen two of the rare powerful skills just by fucking his own mother until she couldn't say no.
The world would lose its mind if it knew.
He glanced around the carriage—its polished wood, thick curtains, gold trim. Lumi's silhouette was just visible through the glass, guiding the horses, her posture proper, but he saw the way she kept peeking over her shoulder, eyes darting back at him, nervous and shy.
He leaned his head against the window, watching the countryside roll by, mind turning over plans, worries, the weird thrill that maybe, just maybe, he could turn all this twisted luck into real strength at Astrea.
He smiled to himself.
Time to see what comes next.