Haros reclined on the plush cushions of the worn-out couch, the air thick with smoke and the sharp scent of wine. He wiped his brow with the back of his hand, blinking away the dull haze in his mind. Yvin lay beside him, her legs tangled with his in careless abandon, her breath shallow but steady. They had paused between rounds of indulgence, a momentary respite from their reckless, endless cycle. Yet, pressed to her stomach, his cock was already halfway to another round. It seemed there would be no peace today. Not for her, and certainly not for him.


    The weight of his reputation pressed on him—drunk, addict, sexual deviant—nearly as much as the dragon’s insatiable appetite. If he didn’t know any better, it sought to breed and intended to use his body as the vessel for a clutch of mixed halfbreed dragons. Which was something he wasn’t necessarily certain could happen. The Legacy was inherited, but then again, there were… changes that had happened since the inheritance, and perhaps that meant the dragon could breed out. Not that he was in the business of advertising the changes. It wasn’t as if he had a clear understanding of how it happened or had any control over it, but it was a bit of a nuisance when it did.


    One cock, hard and sensitive, was already a problem. The second, which would appear with little to no warning, made the first problem substantially worse. But gods, when Yvin let him fuck her with both, there was nothing better than the release of one dick and then the other a half second later. It was even better when she let him use her ass after he’d spent himself in her cunt.


    Of course, the rising tide of need and cock had done nothing to curb the opinions of those who watched him chasing high and whores. Their cruel tongues were quick to call him every unflattering name they could think of—none of it undeserved. He’d earned those titles and wore them like badges of honor. The wayward prince, drowning it tits, dicks, drinks, and trouble.


    Haros had played the role so well, losing himself in the desires he could never outrun. But, in a strange way, it had worked. Every slipped story his parents fed the masses were readily believed, thanks to his… performance, which was never once complained about by anyone he’d taken to bed or wherever they decided was suitable for a scandalous adventure in pleasure. He could eat a pussy on his knees, or suck a cock in the back of a theater with equal easy to bending either over and fucking them against a kitchen counter. It didn’t matter because, in the end, the most important part was watching his partner orgasm. Something about it sent him right over the edge, and nothing else felt as good.


    Then there was Yvin. This bitch could come at a crosswind, or go for days riding his cock and still be too wet to get off. An impressive feat. And damn, she was constantly in need of a solid fuck, or fifty, ever since Danren left. He was away, fulfilling his military ambitions—which were something of an obligation to pay his way through the Academy. It wasn’t a betrayal, though. The three of them had shared this pact for so long now. Danren knew what they did—he even seemed to accept it, understanding that Haros was trapped under the yoke of the Legacy, and that Yvin, with her beauty and strength, could handle his insatiable hunger.


    Or it was Danren’s way of saying her libido was more than he could handle, much like her breasts. Haros stared at the way they moved as Yvin repositioned herself against his side, cum smearing between her thighs. There was a lot he enjoyed about it, but it was her constant hunger for cock that kept him coming back. She knew exactly how to please him and herself. He almost felt guilty not paying her, but she insisted that what he did for her was payment enough. Which was interesting, because the whores he’d entertained and the Tamber Royals Club had said the same thing. His hand slid down, idly stroking himself to full erection at the thought of the sheer number of women, and countless men, he’d enjoyed in such a short time.


    Haros shifted, and too did his thoughts. A mingling of uncertainty and confusion filled his head as he wandered back to what he’d compartmentalized as ‘unfinished business’. That was the only way to think about it with getting pissed off immediately. The plan was idiotic, and no matter how well it had been working, it was failing at the same rate. How much longer could he cram handfuls of drugs down his throat, washing it down with liquor, and stick his dick in whatever willing hole was around? Did everyone think he could keep it up until they were damn well and ready to own the truth? Fuck. He was barely sleeping anymore. Worse was the haunting thought of how blank her face had been when he’d asked her—foolishly and for no sensible reason—to marry him.


    Why would she want to? They hardly knew each other if he was being right and fair about it. He’d never even touched her more than he’d touched anyone else up until recently—relatively. Not to say he didn’t want to, but he wasn’t disrespectful. She didn’t want him. The way she looked at him said everything. She saw him in the same light as everyone else: the failed prince. Hell, if things had been different, she wouldn’t have thrown herself into his path. That was on him. He shouldn’t have had the doubt he did, and when he looked up and saw her there with those gorgeous brown eyes and the worry he felt reflecting in them, his heart screamed out, desperate for her to—


    “Have you seen her? Mira?” Yvin shifted beside him, her voice sharp but soft.


    Haros blinked, his mind snapping into focus as the name registered. Mira. He furrowed his brow. “Mira? You mean Mira Salanmar from Biology?” His tone carried a hint of crude amusement as he recalled the last time they had met—a drunken, far too public display of passion. She had a hell of a voice, and he made her sing louder than the slap of his thighs against her ass. No doubt she’d broken a few nails gripping the wall as her legs shivered and she came so hard she nearly shot his cock out her pussy. That was something he’d never experienced before and doubted he would again. Normally, it felt more like he was about to be trapped in there forever—not that he would complain about such a thing, but he had places to be most of the time. “I’ve seen her,” Haros said, the implication heavier than before.


    Yvin, ever sharp in her reprimands, slapped his chest lightly and threw a leg over his hips to hoist herself in a straddle over him. “Not that Mira, Haros. I mean Mira. The Mira. The one you’re supposed to be playing keeper and ward with.”


    Haros tensed at the shift in tone and the way her arousal made her slide so effortlessly over his cock and fingers. He rolled his hand over, slipping into her and curling in the right place. She hummed, both amused and pleased by the way his fingers worked through her and his thumb pressed to her clit in circles. A flicker of something unfamiliar stirred in him as he watched her breasts move with the thrusts of her hips. Something possessive sparked to life as his mind drifted ever so slightly away.


    “Oh,” he breathed. “My Mira.” The words slipped out before he could stop them.


    Yvin raised an eyebrow, a teasing smile curling her lips. “Oh, so it’s like that, huh? When are you going to ask her on a proper date?”


    The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    The question lingered in the air, light yet piercing. Haros let out a soft, frustrated breath, reclaiming his hand and staring up at the woman grinding on his dick as if begging for an answer to a question he didn’t yet know how to ask. “I don’t think she’s interested in me, Yvin,” he confessed, his voice quieter now. “She barely writes to me. The last time I saw her, she avoided me like I was the plague. She’s… distant.” His voice wavered as if he were trying to convince himself more than anyone else.


    It was his fault, though. If he hadn’t pushed the matter that night, she would have been more amicable to him. Even the first training under the direction of Ysara had been… stiff. Not just because he’d been wielding a boner all morning that he’d not had a chance to resolve, but because Mira had made such an effort to keep a space between them so obvious even the High Priestess had to correct her. There was no practical way to share magic from across a room when neither of them had ever done it before. Baby steps, she’d told them. They had to trust each other. Yet Mira didn’t seem to think enough of him to make an effort unless it was imposed upon her.


    Yvin studied Haros for a moment, her eyes narrowing slightly as she processed his words. She tilted her head thoughtfully. “She probably has a lot on her plate. New duties, new pressures. It must be overwhelming trying to balance everything. She probably doesn’t know how to deal with you—someone so… different from her world. Think about it Haros, she’s spent her whole life isolated in that temple, preparing for this. She doesn’t have the same experiences as you. As us.”


    Haros ran a hand through his hair, his gaze unfocused. “Maybe. I don’t know.” He shifted uncomfortably, trying to push away the ache in his chest. He couldn’t explain it. Mira had always been a mystery, something unreachable, and the more he tried to reach for her, the farther she slipped away. “She’s sort of bitch.”


    Yvin smirked, relaxing as she took his harsh words to mean the conflict in his heart was greater than his desire for her body. “You sound like you like her.”


    “I don’t,” he lied, the skip of his heart betraying him. “Read my fortune,” he said suddenly, the words coming out with a sense of urgency. “Maybe it’ll help me understand what the hell is going on.”


    Yvin raised an eyebrow but smiled knowingly. The only time he had faith in magic was when reason ran out. “You’re desperate, aren’t you?” she teased. But she didn’t need any more prompting. Her fingers slid over his palm, tracing the lines with practiced ease.


    “Read my fortune, whore,” he growled, taking hold of her hips and thrusting beneath her in a clear message of how he intended to pay her.


    “Fine,” she said. “But only if you fuck me again.”


    He didn’t hesitate, lifting her only enough to let his cock rise and slip into her. Her eyes rolled back as he brought her down over his length until he could enter her no further. She groaned, rocking with him as he entertained her desires. The need for distraction surged, and he sat up to kiss her, his lips urgent as his thoughts clouded with confusion and longing for someone else. Someone he knew he couldn’t have.


    Yvin trembled and quaked as she desperately tried to keep her mind on his hand, the lines, and the shimmering threads of fortune and fate scried along them in the weave of magic. Her voice came soft and strained, “You’re destined for a love that will live beyond the stars, Haros. But it will come at a great cost.”


    His mind barely registered the words as he sank deeper into her, every pump a little more uneven than the one before. But when she continued, her voice low and serious, it cut through the fog.


    “You shouldn’t fear it,” she said, her fingers still tracing the lines on his palm. “Because this lover you will trade your future, your fortune, and your name for—already loves you. She loved you before you even met.”


    Haros stiffened, cock twitching and spurting in a hard release. His breath hitched, mind clinging to her words, and the pleasure he’d wanted to hold on to fading into something like dread. “That doesn’t sound like love. It sounds like fucking condemnation,” he muttered. “How can you be in love with someone you haven’t even met? Darling, I think I might have fucked the foresight out of you.”


    Yvin laughed softly, her voice light, as she gently moved off him. Her fingers smoothed between her thighs, drawing out the release he’d left in her. “And you call me a whore,” she muttered, then looked up at him with a smile. “You know, Haros, the love between soulmates isn’t always immediate or passionate. Sometimes, it takes time. And even then, it’s not always the kind of love you imagine. It’s deeper, more permanent. The connection between you two is ancient, even if you can’t see it yet. And you’ve only just begun to understand it.” She took his hand again and pointed to one of the lines. “See, right here? This one says you’re bound to this person before you ever realized it. You were designed for each other. Two halves of the same whole—love in its purest form, with a shape entirely undefined.”


    Haros felt a knot twist in his gut as the meaning of her words sank in. “If I have a soulmate, Yvin, how is that going to work with… our arrangement and Mira?” He swallowed hard, the thought unsettling him more than he wanted to admit.


    Yvin shrugged, her fingers still moving over his palm. “Soulmates don’t always look the way you think they should. Sometimes, they’re strangers. Sometimes, they’re siblings. Sometimes, they’re lovers from a past life. Where you are in your life isn’t going to make them less of your soulmate. It won’t deter them or send them away. You’re bound to each other. Besides, there are maybe a hundred soulmates in every generation, and you’re destined to meet yours, but that doesn’t mean it will happen in this lifetime.” She paused, letting the weight of her words settle between them. “And love… love isn’t always about passion, Haros. It’s about something more. Something deeper.”


    He stared at her, the words swirling in his head, but they didn’t make sense. “I don’t know if I can just wait for someone else. I already have to wait on the world to understand…this.” He waved a hand at himself, naked and finally flaccid. While he hadn’t meant his literal body, she understood. Her hand fell to rest on his chest. Haros breathed a heavier sigh than he intended. “What if I don’t want my soulmate, and I just want to be with Mira?”


    Yvin gave him a sympathetic look. It was no secret between them how he felt about her, yet he struggled to say it out loud. He wanted Mira. She’d been on his mind every day since he’d returned to school, uninterrupted, which was impressive when he’d already thought of her more than Yvin did Danren on any given day since he’d met her as a boy. “You have to be patient, Haros. A soulmate is… complicated. Try not to think about it. Work with Mira, let things unfold. Be happy. And if you’re meant to meet your true soulmate in this life, it will happen when the time is right. Not because you’re trying to force it as a distraction from your feelings for Mira. You have to let things happen, and it will all work out in the end.”


    Haros sighed deeply, checking the time with a frown. “I’m late to pick up Lazroth,” he muttered, pushing up from the couch and collecting his clothes. “His condition… it’s getting worse again.”


    Yvin nodded solemnly, a knowing look in her eyes. It happened every year. His breathing wasn’t right, and it had something to do with the way he’d been born, died, and was revived. He was lucky to be alive at all. “Go. Be there for him, you whore. But don’t stay trapped in the past. Focus on Mira. Focus on what you can control. And let the future come to you when it’s ready.”


    Haros stood, pulling on his clothes with a sense of frustration and resignation. He couldn’t stop the thoughts from swirling, the questions about Mira, the prophecy of the Styxin priestesses he’d heard too much about recently—Tandor’s Promise, and something about how he was an important part of it because of their queen—and now, this mysterious soulmate he wasn’t sure he was ready for.


    As he walked out, bidding Yvin a slight wave and promising to be back later, he couldn’t help but wonder—was he strong enough to put Mira out of his mind and allow himself to find this future lover? Would the stars truly align, or was he destined to chase after a love that was always meant to slip through his fingers? Did he even believe in love?


    The uncertainty gnawed at him, but all he could do was keep moving forward.