Page 128 of Veil of Secrets

Her nails dig sharply into my back, marking me as hers, pleasure building visibly in her expression, muscles tensing beneath my fingertips. She’s close, the edge hovering tantalizingly near. My thrusts grow faster, harder, determined to bring her every ounce of pleasure possible.

"Right there," she gasps breathlessly, hips rising to meet mine, urgency clear in her voice.

I press deeper, angling just right until she shatters beneath me, pulsing tightly around me, body trembling, my name spilling from her lips like a prayer. The beauty of her climax pulls me helplessly along, pleasure bursting hotly through my veins, filling me completely.

We hold each other tightly as we come down slowly, our bodies tangled, breathing ragged, hearts pounding in sync. My lips press gently against her forehead, her cheeks, her lips, worshiping her gently as we slowly relax together.

Eventually, our breathing slows, hearts calming to a steady, shared rhythm. Elara nestles against me, resting her head comfortably against my chest. The ribbon around my wrist catches my attention, gleaming softly in the dim light—a quiet promise, simple and powerful.

She whispers sleepily, voice muffled gently against my skin. "Forever?"

I tighten my arms around her, pressing a lingering kiss against her temple. "Forever," I confirm quietly, feeling the quiet truth settle deep within me.

She hums softly, a contented sound that settles warmth through my chest. "Good."

I close my eyes, resting my cheek lightly against her hair, feeling peace settle over us both. The world might knock eventually, but tonight, we don’t answer. Tonight is ours, quiet and still, wrapped safely in ribbon and promises.

Forever doesn’t feel frightening anymore—it just feels real.

Epilogue – Nico

The club smells like steel now. Not blood. Not fire. Just steel.

Smoke still lingers behind the velvet curtain, faint and threadbare, more memory than menace. The cage on stage stands where it always did—centered, glowing from below—but no one's looking at the cage. Not really.

They’re looking at her.

Elara moves through light that isn't meant to seduce—it reveals. Every shift of her body tells the truth. She doesn’t bend for applause. She doesn't break for anyone. Her chain swings with each step, catching the soft light and flaring silver across her thighs. Her scars catch it too, and they shine instead of hiding.

I don’t move from the shadowed edge of the room. The place where I’ve always been best—behind the curtain, just close enough to strike, far enough to disappear.

Not anymore.

Now I stand still, hands in my pockets, watching her. She knows I’m here. She’s always known when I’m near. But tonight, she dances like it’s just her and the floor. Her and the past she burned down. Her and the fire she became.

She doesn’t flinch under their eyes. The crowd watches, but they don’t own a single piece of her anymore. No hungry shouts. No drunken chants. Just a hum—low and live, like they know what they’re seeing.

She turns, slow and sharp. Her eyes find me.

“Elara,” I say.

Not a warning. Not a command.

Just her name. The one I never speak without meaning.

She doesn’t stop. Just pivots, breath steady, lips curved. “Nico.”

It’s not a greeting. It’s a confirmation. Like she was waiting for me to speak first.

My heart tightens in a way that doesn’t scare me anymore.

She finishes the spin. The music drops off. The lights shift. Her body stills. She lifts her chin—not in defiance, but in ownership.

Of the room. Of herself. Of what we’ve built here.

She steps forward, off the stage, barefoot and unhurried. The crowd parts without being asked. She walks straight toward me, chain brushing her ankle, shoulders relaxed. Power clings to her like heat.

I meet her halfway.

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