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Warning ⚠️ : This Chapter contains sexual contents , please skip if you're under 18 years .
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The afternoon sun filtered softly through the heavy curtains of Zhane's bedroom, casting warm, golden slivers across the tangled sheets. It was well past noon on Christmas Eve, and the mansion remained unusually quiet—no footsteps echoing in the halls, no knocks at the door, no curious voices intruding. For once, the world had left them alone.
Zhane and Celine lay entwined in the center of his massive bed, their bodies still heavy and sated from the raw, breathless sex they'd shared in the bathtub that morning. Sleep had claimed them quickly afterward, pulling them into a deep, dreamless peace that lasted for hours.
Celine was curled against his chest, her cheek pressed over the steady thump of his heartbeat, one leg draped possessively across his thigh. Her dark hair fanned out over his skin like spilled ink, soft and warm.
Zhane's arms encircled her completely, holding her close as though she were something infinitely precious—one hand splayed across the small of her back, the other resting lightly at her waist. Even in sleep, his fingers traced slow, absent circles along her spine.
For a long, quiet moment, everything was perfect.
Then the dream came.
Zhane's breathing shifted first—shallow, uneven. His brow furrowed, and the arms that had held her so gently tightened, almost painfully.
Suddenly, he was somewhere else.
Cold stone bit into his palms. The air was thick and damp, heavy with the scent of earth, melted wax, and something older—blood, long dried. Flickering candlelight lined the jagged walls of an underground cavern, flames dancing in iron sconces and casting long, writhing shadows.
The floor was littered with bones: skulls staring blankly from hollow sockets, cracked ribcages half-buried in dust, scattered femurs and finger bones like forgotten offerings.
Zhane looked down at himself. He wore the formal Crescent High uniform—tailored black blazer with intricate silver crescent-moon embroidery threading the lapels and cuffs, crisp white dress shirt beneath, black tie knotted perfectly, and fitted dark trousers. The school crest—a silver moon eclipsing a bleeding star—shimmered faintly over his heart. In his right hand hovered a pale orb of cold light, pulsing gently, illuminating the horrors around him as he moved.
He didn't know why he was here. Only that he was searching—frantically—for something. Someone.
"Zhane…"
The voice cut through the silence like a blade, trembling, terrified.
His heart slammed against his ribs.
"Celine!" he shouted, spinning in place, the orb's light swinging wildly across the walls. "Where are you?"
"Help me, Zhane…" Her voice came again, closer now but fractured, echoing from every direction. "Please… I'm so scared…"
He ran.
Boots pounding against stone, breath burning in his lungs, he plunged deeper into the cavern. The candles flared violently as he passed, flames bending toward him as if feeding on his desperation.
Then the whispers started.
Low, guttural murmurs slithered from the darkness. Wet snarls followed—inhuman, hungry. Maniacal laughter bubbled up from unseen throats, sharp and cruel, circling him like predators closing in.
"No…" Zhane whispered, dread coiling cold in his gut. The orb flickered in his hand.
"Celine!" he screamed, voice raw and breaking. "CELINE!"
Something lunged from the shadows—claws, teeth, glowing red eyes—but when he whirled toward it, there was nothing. Only the laughter, louder now, mocking him.
He ran faster, panic clawing at his throat.
And then—
Zhane jolted awake.
His eyes snapped open. His chest heaved as if he'd been running for miles. Sweat slicked his skin, and his heart pounded so violently he clutched at it with one hand, fingers pressing hard against the muscle as though he could force it to calm. For a moment, the room spun—soft sheets, warm sunlight, the faint scent of jasmine in her hair.
Real. She was real. She was here.
The terror lingered like ice in his veins.
Beside him, Celine stirred. She stretched slowly, letting out a soft, sleepy yawn before rolling slightly away from him. Then she blinked, dark lashes fluttering, and turned back. When her gaze found his face, a slow, radiant smile spread across her lips—the same smile that always undid him completely, that made the world right itself again.
In that moment, staring into her warm, trusting eyes, Zhane made a choice.
He shoved the dream down—deep, deep down—burying it where it couldn't touch her. Whatever darkness had tried to invade his sleep could wait. Right now, she was here. Safe. Smiling at him.
He leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead.
"Morning, darling," he murmured, voice still rough from sleep and lingering fear. "Did you sleep well?"
A pretty flush bloomed across her cheeks. She ducked her head shyly, tugging the blanket up to hide half her face, only her eyes peeking out—wide, embarrassed, sparkling with warmth.
"All thanks to you," she mumbled into the fabric, voice muffled and adorably grumpy, "I didn't sleep well."
Zhane chuckled, low and warm, the sound chasing away the last chill of the nightmare. He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her closer, peeling the blanket away despite her little squeak of protest.
"Hey—no hiding from me," he teased softly, turning her to face him fully. Her cheeks were burning now, and she refused to meet his eyes, lips pressed together in that shy way that made his heart ache with tenderness.
"You look cute even when you're shy," he said, voice dropping lower as he leaned in.
Celine's eyes fluttered shut, lips parting slightly in anticipation. She waited… and waited.
Nothing happened.
Curiously, she cracked one eye open—and found Zhane smirking down at her, gray eyes glinting with mischief.
"You—" she started, indignant, mouth opening to scold him.
He didn't let her finish.
Zhane captured her lips in a deep, hungry kiss, swallowing her protest whole. His tongue slid against hers, coaxing, claiming, tasting every inch of her mouth. Celine melted instantly, a soft whimper vibrating in her throat as she kissed him back just as fiercely.
The kiss turned heated fast—tongues tangling, breaths mingling, hands roaming. When they finally broke apart, both were panting hard. A thin, glistening thread of saliva connected their lips for a breathless second before breaking.
Celine's chest rose and fell rapidly, lips swollen and red. Zhane wasn't much better—his breathing ragged, eyes dark with want.
"You'd really think I'd deny my girlfriend her morning kiss, huh?" he said, voice husky as he patted her hair gently. His fingers trailed down to cup her cheek, thumb brushing over her lower lip. His other hand slid lower, boldly cupping one breast through the thin fabric of her bra.
"Um… Zhane," Celine groaned softly, arching slightly into his touch despite herself.
"Which reminds me," he continued, a mischievous smirk curling his lips, "I haven't had a proper taste of these yet."
Before she could react, Zhane reached behind her, fingers deftly unhooking her bra. He slid the straps down her shoulders and pulled it away, letting it fall to the side.
Celine's breasts spilled free—perfect, delicious mounds of soft, firm flesh. Not too big, not too small—just right. Full and perky, with dusky nipples already hardening in the cool air. The sight alone could make most men lose their minds.
"Fantastic," Zhane breathed, eyes darkening with hunger.
He leaned down and dragged his tongue slowly over one nipple, circling it teasingly before sucking it into his mouth. Celine gasped, back arching slightly as heat flooded her body. She clenched her fists in the sheets, trying to ground herself, biting her lip to stifle a moan.
But Zhane wasn't gentle for long.
His hands came up to cup both breasts fully, kneading them firmly—fingers sinking into soft flesh, thumbs flicking over her nipples as he switched sides, sucking the other one hard into his mouth. He grazed it lightly with his teeth, just enough to make her shiver.
Celine couldn't hold back anymore.
"Oh… Zhane," she groaned, voice trembling. One hand flew to the back of his neck, pulling him closer as she arched her back, offering herself fully. "Yes… please, just like that… oh god…"
He obliged, sucking harder, faster—mouth hot and wet, tongue relentless. His hands squeezed and molded her breasts like he couldn't get enough, thumbs rolling her nipples in tight circles.
Heat pooled low in Celine's belly. Her thighs clenched together instinctively, her pussy already throbbing, walls fluttering softly with need. She could feel herself getting wet, slick and aching.
"Zhane," she whispered desperately, voice breaking.
He pulled back just enough to look up at her, lips shiny, eyes wild. "Yes, baby?"
"Give it to me," she pleaded, reaching down blindly. Her hand found the thick bulge straining against his shorts and gripped it firmly, stroking once through the fabric.
"Your cock… your dick… I want all of it. Now."
Zhane's breath hitched. A low growl rumbled in his chest.
He smirked, dark and dangerous. "As my darling wishes."