Lor paused, his hazel eyes flicking to her. "All I ever heard was that witches are... shady. Seductresses. They trap men. Suck out their souls or eat their bones or something. Cursed women."
Kiaraâs laughter burst out, rich and melodic, her full breasts heaving as she threw her head back. "And you still asked me out."
Lor shrugged, a grin tugging at his lips. "Took my chances."
"Youâre lucky I didnât flay you alive," she teased, her thighs shifting on the bench, her pussy still sensitive under her panties.
"Youâre lucky I didnât run screaming," he shot back, his hazel eyes glinting with playful defiance.
Kiaraâs eyes glinted, but her voice turned softer, more serious, her smile lingering before melting into something heavier.
She leaned back on her hands, ankles swinging as she stared at the ceiling, her blouse slipping open to reveal more of her cleavage.
"You were half right," she said, her voice quieter now, almost reverent. "And half really wrong."
Lor raised a brow, his bare chest rising with a slow breath, intrigued.
Kiara continued, her gaze dropping back to him, her icy blue eyes intense.
"Witches are dangerous. But not in the way they tell you. You see, witches... weâre not monsters. Weâre not murderers or soul-snatchers."
She looked directly at him, her voice low, intimate. "Weâre women who love too much."
He blinked, his heart skipping, his cock twitching faintly at the raw honesty in her words.
Kiaraâs hand touched her chest, her fingers brushing the skin above her heart, her full breasts rising with the motion.
"Witch blood is thick with yearning. We donât just want sex, we crave devotion. Passion. Touch. Magic and skin and pleasure all tangled together. We fall too fast. We give too much. We want our men to feel everything."
Her eyes locked onto his, a spark of witchlight flickering in their depths.
"And if a man answers that love... if he really gives himself..." she paused, her voice dropping to a whisper, "they end up getting dried to the bone."
Lor swallowed, throat dry, his hazel eyes wide, his bare chest heaving slightly.
"So you donât kill men," he said, his voice soft but curious.
She snorted, her smile returning, playful but tinged with sadness. "Not unless they deserve it."
"Then why all the stories? The soul-sucking? The bones?" he asked, leaning closer, his voice a breath.
Kiaraâs smile twisted, sadder now, her thighs pressing together as she leaned forward.
"Because," she said, "when the royal families realized men were leaving their wives, abandoning wealth, children, kingdoms... just to be with us, the queens panicked. The noble wives and daughters were furious. No spell of theirs could hold the hearts of men the way a witch could."
"So they lied," Lor said, his voice low, realization dawning.
"They started whispering that witches were cursed," she continued, her icy blue eyes distant.
"That we poisoned men, killed them. They turned seduction into murder. Devotion into danger. They hunted us. Burned our sisters. And for those of us who survived, they left behind a new âtruth.â"
Lor stared at her, his bare chest rising with a slow breath.
Kiara met his gaze, unflinching. "That witches are monsters."
He sat down slowly beside her on the bench, shirtless, his lean frame close enough to feel her warmth, his hazel eyes searching hers. "And now?"
Kiaraâs voice dropped to a whisper, her full breasts rising with a slow breath.
"Now we hide. Pretend weâre just mages. Charmers. Alchemists. Blend in with others. But deep down, weâre still women made of fire and love and lust so strong it scares people."
Lor leaned closer, his voice a breath, his hand brushing her thigh, feeling the soft give of her skin. "And I woke that up in you."
Kiara smiled, slow and dangerous, her icy blue eyes gleaming with a mix of lust and something deeperâsomething like trust.
"Baby," she whispered, leaning in until her lips brushed his ear, her breath hot but her voice trembled, "you poured it into me."
They sat in silence, heartbeats thick between them, the classroomâs dim light casting their shadows long and tangled across the floor.
Magic still clung to the air. And Lor knewâsomething had shifted.
Not just inside her.
But inside him too, the Guiding Light scam now tangled with something real, something dangerous, something he couldnât control.
Kiaraâs voice trembled just slightly, but she kept her spine straight, her icy blue eyes fixed on a spot just above Lorâs shoulder, avoiding his gaze as if it might unravel her completely.
Her full breasts rose with a shaky breath, the air still thick with the musky scent of their earlier passion, her black lace panties clinging damply to her thighs under her skirt.
"My mother was found out. Someone saw the signsâtoo much beauty, too much control, the kind of presence that makes men forget their wives. They dragged her out and burned her alive in the square."
She paused, her throat moving with the effort of swallowing the pain, her dark bangs falling into her eyes.
"But my father... he didnât abandon me. Even knowing what I was. He raised me in secretâme, his daughter born from royal blood and witch blood. Iâm not supposed to exist."
She looked up, finally meeting Lorâs hazel eyes, her gaze raw, vulnerable, her voice catching. "No one knows, Lor. Not the kingâs court. Not the academy. Only him... and now you."
Her voice broke on the last word, a faint quiver betraying the weight of her confession.
She took a breath, gathering herself, her fingers brushing over the edge of the desk.
Kiara stepped down from the table, her boots clicking softly against the stone floor, her blouse half-buttoned, revealing the curve of her full breasts, her thighs shifting with each step.
"Iâm giving you an out," she said quietly, her voice steady but soft, like a whisper through fog.
"Now that you know the truth, youâre allowed to be scared. Itâs fair. I never thought Iâd... feel things like this. Not for anyone. But somehow, I ended up here. Naked. Vulnerable. With you."