Aiden gripped Lira's hand tightly as they slipped away from the smoldering ruins of Mira's hut. The morning sun filtered through the canopy, casting dappled light on the overgrown trail leading north. Willowbrook's other huts stood silent in the distance—no screams, no alarms. The goblins must have pulled back after their scout failed, but Aiden knew better than to linger. In the novel, the full raid hit at dusk, dragging villagers into the depths for sport and slaughter. With his foreknowledge, they'd beat it by a day, but scouts could still track them.
Lira stumbled beside him, her dress torn at the hem, thighs sticky from their earlier frenzy. Her cheeks flushed, eyes darting to him with a mix of awe and lingering heat. The Aether Bond hummed between them—a subtle thread of energy, like a vein pulsing under skin. She felt stronger already; Aiden sensed it in her steadier gait, the way her fingers intertwined with his without trembling. "Where are we going, Aiden?" she asked, voice hushed. "The lord's keep is south, but..."
"Not there," he cut in, scanning the trees. The keep was a trap in the book—corrupt guards who sold out peasants to slavers. "North, to the Wildwood edge. There's a forgotten shrine from the old tales. It'll hide our trail." He didn't mention it was a plot point from chapter seven: a mana spring that boosted low-level awakenings. Perfect for building their edge before the academy arc.
They pushed on, the path narrowing into a tangle of roots and ferns. Birds scattered overhead, but an uneasy quiet settled. Aiden's new body ached—muscles untested, cock still half-hard from the bond's afterglow—but adrenaline sharpened his senses. He recited novel lore in his head: Wildwood bordered goblin territory, home to beasts twisted by wild magic. Dryads, wolves, worse. But also opportunities. If he could claim another bond early, his power would spike.
Hours blurred into a sweaty march. Lira stripped off her outer layer as the sun climbed, revealing sweat-slicked skin and the curve of her hips. She caught him staring and smirked, brushing a hand over her mound. "The bond... it makes me want you again. Like fire in my veins."
Aiden pulled her behind a massive oak, pressing her bark-rough back. "Later," he promised, but his mouth claimed hers first—tongue thrusting deep, mimicking what he'd do to her soon. She ground against his thigh, pussy leaving a wet trail on his breeches, but he broke away. "Focus. We're not safe."
She nodded, biting her lip, but the distraction cost them. A low growl rumbled from the underbrush. Aiden froze, shoving Lira behind him. Eyes gleamed yellow in the shadows—three dire wolves, mangy and oversized, foam dripping from fangs. In the novel, these packs roamed the fringes, drawn to blood scents. Mira's death must have lured them.
"Run!" Aiden barked, but Lira tripped on a root, sprawling. The lead wolf lunged, jaws snapping inches from her leg. Instinct surged—Aether flaring. Aiden thrust out a hand, willing the mana to obey. A weak bolt of force erupted, slamming the wolf's shoulder. It yelped, tumbling, but the others circled.
No time for finesse. Aiden grabbed a fallen branch, swinging it like a club. The wood connected with a skull-crack, but pain shot up his arm. Lira scrambled up, hurling a rock that bounced harmlessly. "Aiden!"
The injured lead recovered, pouncing. Aiden dodged, branch splintering on its flank. Claws raked his side, tearing cloth and drawing blood. Hot pain fueled his rage. He channeled the bond—drawing from Lira's fear-laced arousal, twisting it into power. His palm glowed, and he punched the wolf's muzzle. Teeth shattered; it whimpered back.
But the pack closed. One nipped Lira's calf, drawing a scream. She kicked it away, blood welling. Aiden roared, mana peaking. He envisioned the novel's basic spell: Ignis Burst. Fire wasn't his yet, but force amplified. A shockwave rippled out, bowling the wolves into the brush. They fled, tails low, yips echoing.
Panting, Aiden dropped to his knees beside Lira. "You okay?"
She winced, probing the gash. "It stings, but... the bond's healing it already. Warmth spreading." Sure enough, the wound knit slowly, pink flesh sealing. Aiden's side mended too, slower without her healer's touch. They needed rest—and release to recharge.
"The shrine's close," he said, helping her up. They limped onward, the trail opening to a mossy clearing. Ancient stones formed a circle, vines choking a central altar. Faint blue light pulsed from cracks— the mana spring. In the book, it was a neutral site, but Aiden's meta-knowledge hinted at guardians: nature spirits, seductive and dangerous.
As they approached, the air thickened, humming with energy. Lira shivered, nipples hardening under her dress. "Feels... alive. Like eyes on us."
Aiden nodded, cock twitching at the charge. The spring amplified desires, per hidden lore. Perfect for bonding deeper. He led her to the altar, a flat slab veined with glowing quartz. "Sit. Let me tend you."
She perched, spreading her legs instinctively. Aiden knelt, peeling back her skirt. The wolf bite marred her calf, but lower, her pussy glistened, lips parted in invitation. He traced the wound with fingers, then lips—kissing up her inner thigh, tongue flicking sweat and dirt. Lira gasped, hands fisting his hair.
"Aiden... yes, touch me there." Her voice turned husky, the spring's influence blooming. He lapped at the bite, saliva mixing with her essence as he reached her core. Tongue delved into her folds, sucking the swollen clit. She bucked, juices flooding his mouth—tart, addictive.
Mana swirled, drawn to their contact. Aiden's wounds closed faster, strength flooding his limbs. He stood, shedding his breeches. His cock stood rigid, head purple and leaking. Lira eyed it hungrily, sliding off the altar to her knees. Gravel bit her skin, but she ignored it, mouth engulfing him.
She sucked deep, cheeks hollowing, tongue swirling the underside. Aiden groaned, hips rocking to fuck her face. Saliva trailed down her chin, dripping onto her breasts as he thrust harder, hitting her throat. Gags escaped, but she took it, eyes locked on his—devoted, empowered by the bond.
"Good girl," he murmured, pulling out with a pop. Strings of spit connected them. He lifted her onto the altar, the stone cool against her ass. Legs draped over his arms, he positioned at her entrance. One shove, and he sank balls-deep, her pussy clenching wet and hot.
They moved together—him pounding up, her grinding down. Slaps of flesh echoed in the clearing, her tits bouncing free from the dress. Aiden leaned in, capturing a nipple between teeth, biting just shy of pain. She arched, nails scoring his shoulders. "Harder—fuck me like you own me!"
He did, angling to batter her depths. The spring amplified every sensation: her walls fluttered wildly, his cock throbbing with ethereal fire. Aether thickened, coiling around them like invisible ropes, heightening the stretch, the friction. Lira came first, screaming as her pussy spasmed, squirting onto his thighs.
Aiden followed, burying deep to unload—thick ropes of cum painting her insides, excess bubbling out with each withdrawal. The bond sealed stronger; visions flashed—Mira's recipes, Lira's hidden talents as a latent druid. Power surged: he could feel basic spells solidifying, force bolts now edged with flame.
They slumped, breaths syncing. But the clearing stirred. Vines slithered, forming a feminine shape—curves of green and bark, eyes like emeralds. A dryad, guardian of the spring. In the novel, she tested intruders with illusions, but Aiden's presence twisted it. She approached, form solidifying: lithe body with leaf-woven hair, pussy a blooming flower, exuding pollen-scent that stirred his groin anew.
"Mortals," she hissed, voice like wind through branches. "You defile my sanctum with your rutting. Yet the spring accepts... prove your worth, or wither."
Lira tensed, but Aiden stepped forward, cock hardening despite exhaustion. Opportunity. Dryads in lore bonded via essence exchange—sex that merged natures. "We seek alliance, not theft. Join us."
The dryad laughed, vines lashing out to bind Lira's wrists above her head, pulling her spread-eagle on the altar. Lira moaned, not in fear—arousal from the pollen. The spirit turned to Aiden, hand wrapping his shaft, stroking with bark-rough palm. "Dominate, then. Or be entwined."
Aiden grabbed her waist, slamming her against a tree. Her bark skin yielded like flesh, pussy enveloping him in tight, vine-textured grip. He thrust savagely, hips bruising her hips, the dryad's moans blending with rustling leaves. Vines teased his balls, probing his ass—fingers of wood circling his hole, pushing in to massage his prostate.
"Fuck—yes, take it," he grunted, pounding her deeper. She clenched, milking him, sap-like juices slicking his length. Lira watched, bound and dripping, fingers straining toward her clit.
The dryad spun, bending to offer her ass—cheeks parting to reveal a puckered ring amid roots. Aiden spat on it, then drove in dry. She howled, body quaking as he stretched her tight channel. No mercy; he reamed her, balls slapping her dripping slit below. Vines reciprocated, one snaking to Lira, fucking her pussy in rhythm—thick and unrelenting.
Lira writhed, "Aiden—it's so deep!" The dryad's form pulsed, drawing Aether from both. Aiden felt it build: a triad bond forming. He pulled out, flipping the spirit to her knees. She sucked his ass-slick cock clean, throat bulging, while vines freed Lira to join.
Lira dove in, tongue lapping the dryad's pussy as Aiden face-fucked the guardian. The air crackled—mana overflowing. Climax hit like a storm: Aiden erupted down the dryad's throat, cum spilling from her lips. She shuddered, squirting nectar onto Lira's face. Lira fingered herself to completion, the vine withdrawing coated in her cream.
The dryad dissolved into mist, reforming as a tattoo on Aiden's chest—a green sigil pulsing with power. "I am Sylva now, bound to you. The woods bend to your will." Lira touched it, warmth spreading. Their trio strengthened: healing faster, senses sharper, spells budding.
But triumph soured. Distant horns blared—goblin war cries, closer than expected. The raid accelerated? Aiden's meddling must have stirred them. "We move. The academy's our goal—safety in numbers."
Packing what herbs they salvaged, they plunged deeper into Wildwood, Sylva's whispers guiding hidden paths. Aiden smirked inwardly. Two bonds down; the harem begins. But shadows lengthened—pursuers on their trail, and the novel's first heroine, a fleeing noblewoman, awaited entanglement ahead.