"You're overthinking again," Terya's voice cut through the haze, her silhouette emerging from the mist, hips swaying lightly, the gleam of sweat on her collarbone catching the pale moonlight.

Her leather top clung tight, damp and snug over her full breasts, her green eyes low and knowing, a smirk playing on her lips.

Leon blinked, his face flushing. "I wasn't—"

"You were," she said, her smirk widening. "C'mon. You need a boost."

Before he could speak, she tugged him gently to his feet, her touch warm, and led him into the mist, away from the camp where Zara rested, her curse marks flaring faintly under her blanket.

The clearing was quiet, secluded, muffled by the Veil's whispers and the distant groan of trees.

Terya stopped, turned, and ran her fingers along Leon's chest, her touch deliberate, her eyes locked on his.

"You've been doing good, hero," she purred, her lips brushing his ear, voice soaked in sin. "Really good. But you're rushing—don't ruin it."

Leon blinked, his face flushing. "I wasn't—"

But she silenced him with a finger on his mouth, eyes locked on his with wicked promise.

Then her tongue followed, tracing his lips, tasting the sweat of his nerves.

Her kiss was hungry now—wild berries and fire on her breath, smoke on her tongue.

She didn't just kiss; she devoured, melted into him.

Her fingers slid down, unfastening his trousers, freeing his cock with a deft tug.

It sprang into her palm, already twitching, aching.

"I've got you," she whispered, sinking to her knees.

Cool air licked over his shaft before her mouth did.

She held him with both hands, thumbs pressing into his thighs, and looked up—green eyes smoldering, hair a halo of gold between his legs.

Her smile was filthy.

Her lips opened slow and wide, her tongue already teasing the head, flicking across the slit, smearing pre-cum over the crown.

Then she took him in.

Hot, wet, tight—she sucked him deep, cheeks hollowing, tongue slithering like a serpent under the shaft.

She bobbed her head, slow at first, eyes never leaving his.

Her spit coated him, strands of it connecting her lips to his cock each time she pulled back. She moaned around him, the sound vibrating straight through his balls.

Leon groaned, fingers tightening in her hair, hips twitching.

"Fuck…"

She took him deeper.

Her throat opened, swallowing inch after inch until her nose brushed his stomach, his cock lodged in her mouth like she was made for it.

Gagging slightly, she held him there, eyes watering, nails digging into his thighs, then pulled back with a wet gasp and a filthy smile.

"Do you feel my wind yet?," she whispered, stroking his shaft, then sucked him back in hard.

Her head moved faster now, messier, spit dribbling from her chin, coating his balls.

She pumped him with both hands while her lips and tongue worked over the head, relentless.

Her moans turned urgent, needy—each one coaxing his magic loose like a spell.

Wind swirled around them, leaves spinning, mist thickening.

His power surged with every wet stroke of her mouth, every greedy suck.

He was close—too close. "Terya—"

She didn't stop.

Didn't even blink.

She took him to the base, throat clenching tight, eyes locked with his as he came with a cry—hot, thick spurts flooding her mouth.

She swallowed it all, one hand holding his ass as he jerked, the other stroking him gently through the aftershocks.

When she pulled back, her lips were wet and swollen, glistening with spit and cum. She licked her bottom lip, then her fingers, smirking.

"Better?" she asked, voice rough, hungry still, eyes gleaming like she wasn't done.

Leon stared down at her, flushed and breathless, his wind magic buzzing strong under his skin.

"Terya…" he managed, his voice rough.

She stood, pressing a kiss to his jaw, slow and soft, her breath warm.

"I got you," she said, her smile warm. "I always will."

A distant, echoing roar shattered the silence—rasping, unnatural, like claws over stone.

They both froze, the mist shifting, trees groaning in the far dark. Something massive stirred, its presence heavy, menacing.

Terya's expression hardened, though her voice stayed light.

"Guess break time is over," she said, adjusting her top, her smirk returning.

They returned to camp, where Zara stood sharpening her axe, her blue eyes narrowed at the sound, her curse marks glowing faintly through her bandages.

"You two done?" she muttered, not looking at them, her voice gruff but laced with a faint smirk. "Because we're not alone."

Leon didn't reply, his wind magic steady now, alive thanks to Terya.

The Crimson Veil's whispers grew louder, the red mist curling tighter, and the forest waited, its shadows hiding something far worse than the beasts they'd faced.

_________

The next morning.

The mist hadn't lifted, hanging heavier than ever—coiled like smoke, thick and blood-tinted, swallowing the forest in a crimson haze.

Birds no longer sang, the trees standing still as if watching, their blood-slick bark glistening, their roots curling like claws.

Leon stirred beside the still-burning campfire, its weak flames fueled by his struggling wind magic.

He rubbed his eyes, his linen shirt damp with sweat, his reforged dagger glinting at his belt.

"Anyone else feel like the forest is breathing?" he muttered, his voice low, uneasy.

"No," Terya said, brushing her wind-swept blonde hair behind her ear, her green eyes scanning the trees.

"But it is staring." She nodded to the earth, her chainmail creaking softly.

A slab of stone had risen from the dirt overnight—half-buried, black-veined, cold to the touch, its surface etched with ancient symbols that coiled like scars, glimmering faintly in the mistlight.

Zara crouched beside it, one hand resting on her knee, the other brushing the glyphs, her silver hair tied messily, her blue eyes narrowed.

"This is Lysaran," she muttered, her voice rough. "Old faith. The map to one of her temples. Bone spires, red light. They say something sacred grows there."

"The Bloodvine," Leon said quietly.

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