novelraw Chapter 241: Yuel’s influence
Chapter 241: Yuel’s influence
Vincent’s wings moved slowly, each motion scattering fragments of molten light like drifting gold and embers.
Crimson sparks trailed through the air around him, blooming and fading with every breath he took.
His long hair lifted in the heat, his fire-lit eyes steady—deep, intent, filled with something that burned far hotter than flame.
Rory found herself staring, spellbound.
For a fleeting moment, it felt as though she were watching a firebird’s life unfold—from the fragile struggle of a hatchling breaking free of its shell, to its first unsteady wingbeats... to its final, breathtaking ascent into the heavens.
Then, Vincent stopped in front of her.
His wings folded inward, enclosing her completely within their radiant embrace.
The outside world vanished.
He bent slightly, his breath warm against her ear, sending a fine tremor through her body.
"Rory..." His voice was rougher now, lower, threaded with heat. "There’s fire in your eyes... it’s my color."
The warmth drew closer.
She could see the delicate shadows his lashes cast beneath the glowing light.
Instinctively, Rory closed her eyes.
But the kiss she expected never came. Instead, a soft, warm touch settled gently against her forehead.
His forehead rested against hers. Their breaths mingled, close enough to blur into one.
It was more intimate than a kiss.
More dangerous.
Vincent’s hand rose, fingers warm as embers as they brushed along her collarbone through the thin fabric.
His touch was roughened by calluses, and everywhere he traced, it was as if sparks ignited, spreading in quiet, relentless flames through her entire body.
His gaze held her, deep and unyielding, as though he could see past flesh and bone—straight into her soul.
"Rory... your heartbeat..." His voice softened, stretched into something slow and consuming. "...it’s unsteady."
Her breath caught.
Those were her words—the ones she had once used to tease him.
And now, he was returning them, deliberately.
Their eyes met.
And she understood.
He was doing it on purpose.
Rory suddenly wrapped her arms around his neck and bit down on his earlobe.
"My heartbeat is unsteady because of you," she murmured. "Take responsibility."
The moment her words fell, his wings closed completely.
Light and sound were sealed away.
The world reduced to heat, breath, and him.
His lips descended—not to her mouth, but to the place where his fingers had lingered.
The kiss burned.
It spread like fire through her veins, flooding her body in an instant.
Her mind went blank.
Like cold iron cast into a furnace, everything she held—hesitation, restraint, even shyness—melted away, leaving only something soft, molten, and unbearably alive.
She couldn’t see.
Couldn’t think.
Could only feel—heat, endless and consuming.
It was as if she had dissolved into him—into a sea of molten flame bearing his name.
They burned together.
Moved together.
His wings became her shelter.
His breath, her air.
His heartbeat, the only rhythm left in the world.
Time lost all meaning.
And then, from the depths of that molten abyss, something lifted her.
Within the nest, the scattered light of fire and gold surged brighter, as if it might break through even the sealed wings themselves.
***
Morning came quietly.
Rory woke to a faint, ticklish sensation.
Her eyes opened slowly.
The blazing nest of the night before was gone, replaced by soft, flame-colored drapes.
Beneath her lay a plush bed.
She shifted slightly—and immediately felt it.
Every inch of her body was soft, heavy, still tingling with the memory of heat.
Vincent was already awake.
Propped on one arm, he lay beside her, watching.
Morning light filtered through the curtains, softening the sharp lines of his features.
Those usually calm, perceptive eyes now held a warmth deep enough to drown in.
"Rory... you’re awake?"
His voice was low, husky with sleep—like aged wine, rich and intoxicating.
Rory looked at him, and in an instant, memories of the night before flooded back.
Her face heated. She shifted—and without warning, bit down on his chest.
Vincent let out a soft, exaggerated sound, as if it actually hurt.
"Rory... why bite me first thing in the morning?"
His eyes shimmered, full of feigned grievance.
"Was I not good enough last night? Did you not like it?"
He leaned closer, inch by inch.
"But last night, you clearly said you liked it... you even said you liked me—"
"Stop." Rory clapped a hand over his mouth, glaring at him, flustered.
Those words were not meant to be repeated out loud.
Vincent blinked innocently, immediately falling silent.
He knew.
He knew she would come after him this morning—after everything he had coaxed her into saying the night before.
And yet, he also knew she hadn’t truly disliked it.
Rory shot him another glare.
"I never realized you could be this shameless."
Those words—he’d said them far too easily.
Vincent smiled, pulling her into his arms, his teeth grazing lightly against her earlobe.
"You wrong me, Rory. I’m very proper, usually."
His warm breath brushed against her ear—and half her body softened instantly, betraying her.
Vincent seemed deeply satisfied with her reaction. The smile at his lips deepened as he pulled back slightly, studying her with intent focus. In those crimson, fire-lit eyes was nothing but sincerity—intense and unwavering.
"Really," he said softly, "it’s just... when I’m with you, Rory, all my restraint and composure fall apart."
His gaze lingered on her, voice dropping lower.
"I lose control without even realizing it..."
That was completely unfair.
He was supposed to be explaining himself—but it sounded more like a confession wrapped in tenderness.
Rory didn’t buy a word of it.
She reached out and poked his firm chest with a finger.
"Oh, please. You say those things way too easily."
She deliberately put on a stern expression and narrowed her eyes at him.
"Tell me—where did you even learn to talk like that? Don’t tell me Yuel taught you too."
She had every reason to suspect it.
After all, Nix and Xarion had both been "corrupted" under Yuel’s influence.
Even Jasper hadn’t escaped unscathed.
Vincent let out a low laugh, the vibration of it traveling clearly beneath her fingertips.
"This time, you’ve really wronged Yuel."
"I’ve spent most of my life in the military—surrounded by men with far too much energy."
He paused briefly, as if choosing his words, before deciding honesty was simplest.
"Some things... you don’t need to learn deliberately. You hear them often enough, and they stick."
His gaze grew heated again, hooking onto her without letting go.
"But before, they were just words. I never had any reason to say them."
His voice dropped further, turning soft, rough, and slow.
"Not until I met you... and realized those words could take on shape... and warmth."
His fingers brushed lightly over her lips, the faint roughness of his touch sending a subtle current through her.
"If you’re really upset, Rory... then punish me."
A faint smile curved at the corner of his lips.
"No matter what you do to me, I won’t resist."
"Punish you?"
Rory removed his hand from her waist with a skeptical look.
"I think you’d enjoy that way too much."
Every single one of them is completely hopeless.
There was no way she was falling for that.
Now that they were bonded, Vincent seemed to have unlocked something entirely new.
The moment she pushed his hand away, he simply slid closer again, relentless.
"Then think of it as a reward," he murmured, voice low and coaxing.