Chapter 74: Old Hunger

Talia found him before noon.

Arthur had just left the morning evaluation briefing when a hand closed around his wrist and pulled him hard into a side corridor.

The moment the shadows covered them, Talia Vane pinned him against the wall with one forearm and the full weight of a combat instructor who did not bother with subtlety.

Her red eyes were bright. Too bright.

"You’ve been busy," she said. Voice low. Rough. "Frost witch. Princess. I can smell both of them on the air around you. Cute. But they don’t cover everything."

Arthur didn’t push her off. "Talia."

"Don’t ’Talia’ me in that calm voice." She leaned closer. The gold runes along her collarbone and midriff flickered under her open combat jacket. "My cycle doesn’t care that the academy scheduled mandatory missions in four days."

Her free hand dragged down his chest, nails scraping lightly.

"I need you," she said simply. "Not politics. Not bonds. I need you to fuck the edge off before I put some poor first-year through a wall by accident."

Arthur met her gaze. "Here?"

Talia’s mouth curved into something sharp and hungry.

"Storage room. Now."

She didn’t wait for agreement. She dragged him three doors down, kicked open a reinforced equipment closet, shoved him inside, and sealed the door with a quick combat ward.

The space was narrow, lined with training dummies and weapon racks. The moment the ward locked,

Talia stripped her jacket and the micro-top beneath it in two efficient motions.

Dark skin. Full breasts. Gold runes glowing hotter along her ribs and the cut of her abs. She shoved her combat shorts down her thighs and kicked them away.

"Clothes off," she ordered. "I am not in the mood for slow."

Arthur stripped.

Talia was on him before his shirt hit the floor. She kissed like she fought—direct, aggressive, no wasted motion. Her tongue pushed into his mouth.

One hand gripped his cock and stroked once, hard, checking how ready he already was. She made a satisfied sound when she found him hard.

"Good. On the bench."

She shoved him down onto a low equipment bench, climbed on top, and sank onto his cock in one continuous drop.

Both of them groaned.

Talia was scorching hot and tight, body already slick with need. She didn’t give herself time to adjust.

She planted her hands on his shoulders and started riding him with raw, powerful strokes, hips snapping down hard enough that the bench creaked.

Her breasts bounced with every impact. The gold runes across her skin flared brighter each time she took him to the hilt.

"Fuck," she breathed. "That’s it. Deeper. Don’t you dare hold back on me."

Arthur gripped her waist and thrust up to meet her. The angle let him bury himself completely. Talia’s head fell back.

A low, animal sound rolled out of her throat. There was no careful dual cultivation here, no emotional negotiation, no jealousy under the surface.

Just physical need and the residual pull of an old print that had burned too hot and left an echo.

She fucked him harder.

Sweat slicked her dark skin. The runes pulsed in time with her movements. Arthur sat up, closed his mouth around one tight nipple, and bit. Talia’s rhythm stuttered.

She grabbed the back of his head and held him there while she ground down in tight, desperate circles.

"Yes—like that—don’t stop—"

He switched to the other breast, teeth and tongue working while his hands gripped her ass and helped slam her down onto his cock. The wet, filthy sound of their joining filled the small storage room.

Talia’s thighs trembled. She was already close; the edge she had been carrying was too sharp to last.

Arthur felt her clench hard and deliberately drove up into her at the exact moment she dropped.

Talia came with a raw, broken shout, body locking around him, runes flaring gold-white along her torso.

He fucked her through it, relentless, until she was gasping and twitching and half-laughing from the intensity.

She didn’t get off him.

"Again," she growled against his mouth. "I’m not done."

She lifted off him only long enough to turn around, brace her hands on his knees, and sink back down in reverse. The new angle dragged a curse out of Arthur.

Talia looked back over her shoulder with a feral grin and started riding him with short, punishing strokes that showed off every flex of her back and ass.

Arthur slapped one cheek hard enough to sting. Talia moaned approval and pushed back harder.

He did it again, then gripped both hips and took control of the pace, slamming her down onto his cock while she cursed and encouraged him in equal measure.

The second orgasm hit her faster than the first. Talia’s arms nearly gave out. She dropped her chest lower, forehead against his knee, and came with a long, shuddering groan while Arthur kept thrusting up into her.

The way she pulsed and fluttered around him dragged him right to the edge.

"Inside," Talia ordered, voice wrecked. "Don’t you fucking pull out."

Arthur drove deep and emptied into her with a guttural sound, gripping her hips hard enough to leave bruises. Talia moaned at the feeling and rolled her hips through every pulse, milking him until there was nothing left.

For a moment the storage room was quiet except for their breathing.

Talia lifted off him slowly, turned, and sat on the bench beside him without any attempt at modesty. Seed trickled down her thigh. She looked at it with open satisfaction, then glanced at Arthur.

"That takes the edge off," she said. "For now."

Arthur leaned back against the wall, still catching his breath. "Your cycle."

"Residual." Talia wiped sweat from her collarbone with the back of her hand.

She gestured between their bodies. "When the hunger rises, you answer it. No drama. No ranking. Clear?"

"Clear."

Talia’s red eyes gleamed. "Good. Because I will want you again before the five days are up. And I don’t care if you have to wash someone else’s scent off first."

She stood, collected her clothes, and dressed with the same efficiency she had stripped. The combat jacket settled over the glowing runes.

The professional instructor mask slid back into place piece by piece, though her mouth still carried a satisfied curve.

At the door she paused.

"Your random group is soft," she said without looking back. "Two of them will panic the first time something bleeds. Teach them fast or leave them behind. I didn’t fuck a corpse in the making."

Then she dropped the ward and left.

Arthur sat alone in the storage room for another minute, the smell of sex and ozone thick in the air, the residual heat of Talia’s body still fading from his skin.

Three women.

Three different claims.

Frost and possession.

Jealousy and permanence.

Hunger and simplicity.