That night, as sleep gently stole over them beneath the canopy of stars, the air in the garden thickened, silken and charged. The moon hung heavy above, silver and watchful.
Then the world fell away.
Lara and Thornak stood together in a vast hall of moonstone and shadow. The ruined temple of the Moonguard stood whole once more, its arches gleamed, starlight poured through crystal windows, and silver flames floated above stone bowls, casting no smoke.
The air was sacred.
From the far end of the hall, the Guardian emerged.
The Guardian of the Moonguard is a towering, ethereal figure woven of silver starlight and shadows. Her form is feminine but immense, ancient and ageless, cloaked in flowing robes that shift like mist. A crescent moon glows on her forehead, and her eyes are twin galaxies—depthless, watching. Wings of translucent light rise from her back, feathered like a great owl, glittering with fragments of constellations. Her hands hold a staff made from petrified moonwood and crystal, pulsing faintly with divine power. Vines of glowing silver curl around her limbs like living armor, and at her feet, spectral wolves pace silently, guardians of the sacred threshold.
The Guardian paused before them, its presence vast, but not cruel.
Then it spoke with a voice like thunder wrapped in silk:
"The bloodline awakens. The fated ones stand before me."
Its gaze fell upon Lara, proud and sorrowful. "Daughter of the Moonguard, the seal cracks. The breath of war is near."
It turned to Thornak, measuring him. "You, King of Lycans, shattered the sorcerer's army of flesh. So now, he will raise the army of souls."
A shiver rippled through the vision, shadows rising like smoke, faces twisted with torment, the dead rogues clawing free of the veil, not at peace, but bound by cursed command.
"He will unleash the damned, the ones you felled, twisted into weapons. Their suffering will bleed into your lands."
"But she..." the Guardian looked to Lara, "...can fortify your armies. Her gift is not only destruction, but salvation. She may cleanse the curse. Free the bound. Turn the tide."
Lara's heart thundered. The Guardian stepped closer, and the temperature dropped. "But beware… the shadow is not only without."
It turned to Thornak, and its eyes blazed. "Watch your Queen… the one you call mother. Ask your Queen. Ask her. For she had a pact with the Moonguard prince."
The air grew colder. Thornak's grip tightened on Lara's hand, his eyes darkening. Then, the temple began to fade. Stone turned to mist, light dimmed, and the flames winked out, one by one.
"Remember this," the Guardian's voice echoed, fading with the last of the vision. "Fate offers a path, not a promise. What comes will test you both."
Morning had already broken, casting gold across the garden's dew-soaked leaves. Thornak stirred first, blinking against the soft light, the weight of the night's vision pressing against his ribs like a stone. For a moment, he lay still, staring at the sky through the tangled branches above, unsure if it had been real or just a dream born of too little sleep and too much feeling.
Beside him, Lara shifted, her breath catching as she sat up slowly.
"I had a vision," she said quietly, as if afraid the morning would shatter it. "You won't believe me if I tell you what I saw."
Thornak turned to her, his brows furrowed. "The temple… the Guardian..."
Their eyes locked.
"You saw it too?" she whispered.
He nodded once, slow and sure. "Every word."
"A shared vision," she breathed, the truth of it settling between them like a new dawn. "Then it was real."
A gentle breeze stirred the garden, sunlight dappling the grass in golden patches. Thornak's gaze turned distant for a moment, Dain's voice echoing through the mind link. "The Seer, Ninzu, has arrived."
He exhaled, but instead of rising, he turned to Lara, his eyes heated with a different kind of urgency.
"You know," he murmured, drawing her close, "your body drives me mad. I simply want to ravish you again."
Lara flushed, half-shocked, half-amused. "Thorn, it's morning. Surely last night satisfied you?"
He grinned, nipping her ear. "When it comes to you, little moon, I am insatiable. You're so beautiful," he said, voice hushed with awe, as if the morning sun had just revealed her to him for the first time. "I'll never have enough of you."
He began pressing kisses along her neck, slow and lingering. Lara laughed and tried to squirm away, playful and breathless.
"You're being too naughty," she chided, still giggling.
Thornak caught her wrists gently, pinning her down to the soft grass, his grin wicked. "Let me be."
He kissed his way down her belly, slowly, reverently. Her giggles softened, breath catching.
And then only her moans remained, carried on the morning wind.
His hands, gentle yet firm, traced the curves of her body as though memorizing every inch. Her skin tingled at his touch, every caress sending ripples of warmth through her. He leaned down, his lips finding hers in a kiss that was slow and tender, a soft promise of everything unsaid.
Thornak's touch shifted, a tender exploration that made her breath catch. His fingers brushed over her skin, tracing the delicate line of her abdomen and moving lower in between her thighs, parting them slightly. Thornak traced her silken folds, parting them with delicate care before slipping a finger inside her, slow and sure, as though reading the verses of her soul with every motion.
He heard her moan softly as she got more and more excited. And then without warning he planted his face between her legs. She gasped aloud at the excitement that surged through her.
Lara felt the heat within her rising, building until her body trembled. She cried out his name as the peak overtook her, crashing through her like a storm.
Thornak watched her unravel beneath him, his name on her lips as her body trembled with the aftermath of release, and he leaned in, kissing her softly, his lips warm against her skin, sending waves of shivers through her. Then, without warning but with every ounce of need they both felt, he entered her. She gasped softly, already slick with want, her body welcoming him like a long-lost part of herself.
Unlike the night before, his movements were unhurried. Measured. As if he didn't just crave her, he was memorizing her. Every inch. Every reaction. Every breathless sound she gave him.
Each slow thrust deepened their connection, something more sacred than just flesh meeting flesh. It was fire wrapped in tenderness, and she clung to him as if the world would fall away if she let go.
Thornak's forehead pressed to hers, their breath mingling, warm, ragged, real. His thumb brushed her cheek as if grounding himself in the moment, as if needing to feel everything she was feeling.
The rhythm of their bodies found a language all its own, silent, ancient, full of promise and longing. Lara arched into him, her legs tightening around his waist, drawing him deeper, anchoring him in the heart of her. Their breaths grew ragged, the rhythm of their bodies spiraling higher, each movement drawing them closer to the edge. Thornak gripped her waist, grounding himself as the tension coiled tighter between them, desperate, beautiful and inevitable.
Lara cried out his name again, her voice trembling as the wave crashed through her, body tightening around him in release. Her climax took her like a sudden storm, fierce and consuming, and he followed her into it, groaning low against her throat as he gave himself fully.
They held each other as the aftershocks rippled through them, hearts pounding in sync, chests rising and falling together like twin tides at rest. There was no rush now, only the quiet certainty that in this moment, they belonged entirely to one another.
The sun had just begun to warm the marble terrace when Thornak had breakfast brought to the garden. The scent of wild roses mingled with fresh bread and honeyed fruit, dew still clinging to the petals nearby.
Lara sat curled in his lap, half-dressed, her skin glowing in the soft morning light. One of his arms was wrapped securely around her waist while the other held a piece of pear to her lips.
She giggled as he teased her with it, pulling it away just as she leaned forward.
"Cruel king," she whispered, eyes sparkling.
"I like the sound of your laughter more than the fruit," he replied, finally letting her take the bite.
Juice trickled down her chin, and Thornak caught it with his thumb, then brought it to his mouth without looking away from her. There was no rush in him now, no fire demanding to consume. Just a man who had found something he'd thought lost to him forever, peace, and someone to share it with.
They ate like that, between laughter and quiet kisses, as the breeze stirred the leaves above them and the kingdom beyond the palace slowly woke.