DESCRIPTION
She sensed him before she saw him.
A silent shadow at the edge of the courtyard.
Master Veylor. Watching. Approaching.
Malvarra knelt, fully aware of her place in the Order.
She offered herself — not as a Mistress, not as a demoness — but as His.
He accepted. Without words.
Their silhouettes merged with moonlight. And the water turned red from passion, not blood.