The bells were already ringing.
Not the calm, welcoming chime of prayer—but the hurried, hollow sound that meant time was slipping away.
"Dinner is almost over!" Hailee said, breathless.
They ran.
Stone corridors blurred past them, torches streaking into lines of gold and shadow as their footsteps echoed wildly through Sancthorn's vast body. Elias ran just behind her, his lungs burning, his heart pounding—not only from speed, but from everything that still clung to him.
*Her.*
Her presence.
Her body moved differently when she ran.
Her robes tightened and loosened with every step, fabric brushing against her thighs, lifting just enough to show movement—never skin, never too much—but enough. Her ponytail swung wildly, strands of hair escaping and sticking to the faint sheen of sweat at the back of her neck.
Real innocent Elias flushed pure embarrassment at the sight, but demon darkness seized the moment—eyes locked on her juicy ass cheeks clenching and bouncing rhythmically under taut robe, deep crack swallowing sweat-damp fabric as her creamy thighs rubbed slick together teasing puffy downy pussy lips grinding desperate with each stride, perky tits heaving wildly inside her top with rock-hard nipples scraping cloth begging brutal twists while ponytail whipped like a handle to yank her head back mid-run and force her onto all fours for instant balls-deep rutting.
Elias's eyes followed without permission.
*Stop.*
But his darker thoughts didn't listen.
Her hips shifted naturally as she ran, her breath uneven, chest rising faster now. Elias's mind traced the motion unconsciously, his inner voice whispering things he didn't want to hear.
*Look at her. She doesn't even know what she does.*
He clenched his jaw, forcing his gaze forward—but the image stayed.
The dining hall gates were visible now. Light spilled from inside, warm and alive. Voices echoed faintly—plates, laughter, movement.
They were almost there.
Suddenly—
"Wait."
Hailee slowed abruptly, then stopped.
Elias nearly crashed into her again, skidding to a halt just behind her.
She bent forward slightly, hands resting on her knees, breathing hard—*ass cheeks thrusting back perfectly rounded under robe, deep cleft parting slightly from sweat sheen as she panted, innocent posture screaming to be mounted raw while her pure faithful gasps beg for choking fingers around slender throat.*
"I—I'm…" she tried to speak, then shook her head. "I'm not hungry."
Elias blinked.
"What?" he asked, genuinely confused.
She straightened slowly. Her face had lost its color. Her eyes darted briefly—left, right—checking the corridor.
"I remembered something," she said quickly. "Something important. I need to go back to my room."
Her hand tightened around the bundle she carried close to her body.
*The clothes.*
Elias's darkness smiled quietly.
*Of course.*
He saw it now—the way she held them slightly turned inward, how she adjusted her robes to keep them hidden, how her shoulders were tense not from running, but from fear.
Fear of being seen.
Fear of being questioned.
Fear of being exposed.
His darker thoughts whispered eagerly.
*She's running again. Not from dinner. From eyes.*
Hailee looked at him, forcing a gentle smile that didn't quite reach her eyes.
"Good night, Elias," she said softly. "You should eat. Don't miss it because of me."
Before he could answer, she turned.
She walked away quickly—not running now, but fast enough to escape. Every few steps, she adjusted her grip, making sure the folded fabric stayed hidden against her side—
pussy-scented crotch panel pressed tight to her side carrying dried nectar from her secret bath, demon fantasizing ripping it free to stuff the sticky gusset into her gasping mouth while pinning her against corridor wall, spreading sweat-slick thighs wide to tongue-lash swollen clit until virgin squirt floods his face.
Elias stood still.
Watching.
The corridor lights caught her silhouette as she moved farther away, her figure growing smaller, more fragile, until she disappeared into a turning hall.
The moment Hailee vanished from sight, something inside Elias snapped back into place.
Hard.
Like a cord pulled too tight and suddenly released.
He staggered a step, breath catching painfully in his throat, as if he had been running far longer than he realized. His hands trembled. His heart still raced—but now it wasn't hunger.
It was fear.
"What… was that?" he whispered.
His thoughts felt wrong—misaligned, like furniture moved in a room while he wasn't looking. He remembered everything he had thought while following Hailee's back, remembered the cold patience of those ideas, the way they had formed so easily.
Too easily.
"I didn't mean to think like that," he muttered, voice breaking. "I didn't."
He pressed both palms against his temples, squeezing his eyes shut.
*I'm not like that.*
He had always been quiet. Shy. Careful. The kind of person who apologized even when others bumped into him. The kind who lowered his gaze out of habit, not fear.
So why—
Why did those thoughts rise without permission?
Why did his body respond before his mind could stop it?
"I can hear it," he said softly, almost pleading. "I don't even invite it. It just… talks."
There was no answer.
But the silence itself felt crowded.
Elias started walking again, slower now, toward the dining hall gate. Each step felt heavier than the last, like the stone floor was pulling at his feet.
*You're imagining things,* he told himself. *You're tired. Today was too much.*
But the excuses felt thin.
He had seen it happen—how his thoughts split in two. How one part of him panicked while the other calmly watched, planning, observing.
Like a shadow standing just behind his eyes.
"I won't let you," he whispered. "Whatever you are."
His breath fogged slightly in the cooler air near the hall entrance. He leaned against the wall for a moment, chest rising and falling fast.
*I won't.*
But doubt crept in, cold and slow.
*Then why didn't you stop it?*
That question hurt more than anything else.
He remembered Hailee's anxious eyes. Her tight grip on the cloth bundle. The way she had trusted him—trusted him enough to stand close, to speak softly, to promise help without knowing what she was promising.
And what had he done with that trust?
His fingers curled into fists.
"I'm losing control," he admitted quietly. "I can feel it."
His body had moved before his thoughts earlier. His muscles had tensed with readiness he didn't recognize. Even now, there was a strange alertness in him, like something awake beneath his skin.
Waiting.
Elias swallowed hard.
"I don't want this," he said. "I never asked for it."
He straightened, forcing himself to breathe normally. He adjusted his glasses with shaking fingers, pushing them firmly into place—as if anchoring himself to something familiar.
*Think of dinner,* he told himself. *Think of food. Think of anything else.*
But his mind betrayed him again—not with desire this time, but with fear.
*What if it gets worse?*
*What if one day he couldn't pull back?*
*What if one day the voice didn't wait for permission at all?*
The dining hall doors were only a few steps away now. Light spilled across the floor, warm and alive, a sharp contrast to the cold knot twisting in his chest.
"Just get through tonight," he whispered. "That's all. Just tonight."
He pushed off the wall and started forward.
Running again.
Not because he was late.
But because he was afraid of what would happen if he stopped.
***
Elias was running.
Not fast enough to escape his thoughts, but fast enough that the world around him blurred—pillars, shadows, the glow spilling from the dining hall ahead.
His breath came uneven. His chest felt tight. His mind was still loud, tangled with questions he didn't know how to answer.
*What's wrong with me?*
He lowered his head slightly, focusing only on the stone path beneath his feet.
That was the mistake.
**THUD—!!**
The impact came without warning.
Something solid slammed into him, knocking the air clean out of his lungs. Elias felt his body bounce backward, his feet losing balance as he crashed hard onto the floor.
Pain shot through his shoulder.
His glasses flew off his face and skidded across the stone with a sharp clink.
For a moment, everything spun.
"O—oh—" Elias gasped, scrambling on the ground. His hands shook as he reached for his glasses, heart pounding violently in his ears.
"I—I'm sorry—!"
He pushed the glasses back onto his nose and looked up—
And his blood ran cold.
It was the same man.
The Armour guy from the morning. And was a warden too.
But now, there was no forgiving expression. No avoiding.
Only rage.
The man's jaw was tight, teeth grinding together. His eyes burned as they locked onto Elias like a blade finding its target.
"You again?" the armour guy growled.
"You little brat—don't you have eyes?"
Elias froze.
"I—I didn't mean to—I was running and—" His words tangled together. "I'm really, really sorry—"
The apology meant nothing.
In one rough motion, the Armour guy grabbed Elias by the collar and yanked him up off the ground like he weighed nothing.
Elias's feet barely touched the floor.
The grip was crushing. Fingers dug into cloth and skin alike, pulling him close.
The Armour guy leaned down until their faces were inches apart.
"Why do I feel like you're doing this on purpose?" he hissed.
"You trying to die, little boy?"
Elias's body trembled.
"I—I swear—I didn't—" His voice cracked. "Please—"
The man's grip tightened further, dragging Elias closer, harder. Elias's breath came shallow, panic spreading fast.
*I can't—*
Suddenly—
**SNATCH—!!**
Elias's arm moved.
Fast.
Too fast.
His hand knocked the Armour guy's arm aside in a sharp, clean motion, breaking the grip completely. The force sent the man's hand sliding away as Elias stumbled backward, landing on his feet a few steps away.
Free.
Silence fell.
Heavy. Absolute.
The entrance of the dining hall froze.
Forks stopped mid-air. Conversations died instantly. Every pair of eyes turned toward them.
A Seeker—
Had just broken free from a Warden's hold.
Whispers rippled through the hall like a wave.
"How did he—?"
"That grip—no way—"
"He moved so fast—"
Elias stood there, breathing hard, staring at his own hand.
*What did I just do?*
The Armour guy looked down at his arm, disbelief flashing across his face.
Then humiliation.
His expression twisted into pure fury.
"How…" he muttered. "That's impossible."
He looked back at Elias.
Slowly.
"You think that was impressive?" he snarled.
"I was being gentle."
Elias didn't answer.
Something about him had changed.
His posture was different. His shoulders weren't slumped anymore. His breathing steadied, unnaturally calm.
People whispered again.
"Is he strong…?"
"A Seeker… stronger than a Warden?"
The Armour guy heard it.
His face darkened.
"You need to learn your place," he said coldly.
In the blink of an eye—
**ZIP—!!**
He vanished.
Many didn't even see him move.
One moment he was standing there—
The next, he was right in front of Elias, arm pulled back, fist glowing faintly with gathered force.
The punch came fast.
Deadly.
Elias stood still.
Head lowered.
Calm.
Too calm.
The fist stopped an inch from his face.
**GRABBED—!!**
A powerful hand caught the Warden's punch mid-air.
The shock traveled through the hall.
The Warden's eyes widened as he turned his head—
And saw a strong build woman standing between them, her grip firm, unyielding.
Some whispered *"Sister Alessia"*
***