The stars were already coming out above them, though, technically, this place had no sky—just endless shimmer and shifting light. Malvor gave her hand a small squeeze.
"You have seen a lot of my Realm now, Annie… but I saved the best for last."
She arched an eyebrow. "The best?"
He winked. "The absolute best. I call it the Observatory. Not because it watches, but because it lets you see."
With a wave of his hand, the floating chaos dissolved around them, and in the blink of an eye, they were somewhere else, still and quiet, where the world fell away into velvet black infinity.
They stood atop a vast, glassy platform suspended in space. Below them: darkness. Above them: galaxies. Planets. Stars that shimmered in every color. Some pulsed softly, others burned bright and angry red. Spiraling nebulas moved slowly, dancing across the sky like a cosmic ballet. There was no wind, no gravity. Just stardust and silence.
And still, somehow, it felt warm.
Annie stepped closer to the edge, peering down, startled to see there was no edge. The platform seemed endless in every direction, but not in a way that made her feel lost. It felt safe. Protected. The whole place hummed with quiet magic.
"This is..." she breathed, not even finishing the sentence.
Malvor stepped beside her, voice low. "You can touch them. Not physically, but... come here." He reached out, pointing toward a cluster of shimmering gold stars. A small section zoomed in, expanding until the stars became bright points on their own miniature map, rotating slowly in a massive illusion in front of them.
"Every star has a story," he said. "Some are dead. Some just being born. Some hold planets with people. Some hold dreams."
"And some," he added, nudging her gently, "are just really pretty and serve no purpose whatsoever. Like me."
She snorted, eyes wide with wonder as she reached forward to spin one of the galaxies. It reacted to her touch, flaring with light, opening into a swirl of stars with a soft sound like wind chimes.
"They respond to me?" she whispered.
"They respond to intention," he said softly. "And you, my Annie, are very good at wanting things without even knowing it."
She let her fingers trace through the illusion, watching the starlight curl around them. The moment felt too big for words. Malvor did not fill the silence. For once, he just stood with her, content to watch her face reflected in the light of a million stars.
The quiet between them was not heavy or awkward. It was full.
She looked up at him, her eyes catching the light, turning them to sapphires. "Why did you bring me here?"
He leaned in, his voice low and reverent. "Because when I built this, I thought I made it for myself. But now… I think I made it for you."
…She did not answer. Not with words.
Instead, she reached for him, fingers brushing along his jaw as she turned toward him fully. Her expression was soft, unguarded in a way it rarely was, like a storm that had finally quieted, leaving behind only stillness and clarity.
Malvor did not speak either. He just stepped into her, close enough to feel her breath catch. He let his forehead rest gently against hers, eyes closed, their noses brushing. It felt like a promise, like a prayer whispered between stars.
Above them, the galaxy shifted as if sensing the moment, stars flaring softly, casting silver and gold light across their skin. The constellations pulsed in rhythm with their hearts, glowing brighter every time their bodies swayed a little closer.
His hands slid to her waist, slow and reverent, like she was sacred. Her fingers curled in the fabric of his shirt, knuckles white from the force of emotion. There was a quiet trembling in her touch, not fear, but weight. Meaning.
He kissed her.
Not playful.Not teasing.Not chasing or conquering.
This kiss was different.
It was full of something unspoken that had been building between them for so long—layer upon layer of tension, of glances held too long, of words left unsaid.
Something deeper.Something real.
It wasn't about hunger.It wasn't about possession.It wasn't even about passion.
It was about belonging.
Annie gasped softly against his mouth, her fingers tightening in his shirt.Malvor's hands slid up to cradle her face, holding her like something precious—like something he could not bear to rush.
The kiss deepened.
And time...unraveled.
The stars above them spun slowly, galaxies blooming and folding like breathing things.The glass platform beneath them pulsed with gentle, living heat, responding to the hum of their bodies, their bond.
There were no walls between them anymore.No rules.No pasts to outrun or futures to fear.
Only them.Only this.
The press of her lips.The way she melted into him, sighing softly.The way his breath hitched when she whispered his name against his mouth—not like a curse,not like a command,but like a prayer.
Malvor.Sacred.Loved.
His hands moved slowly—reverent, trembling—exploring her like a map he'd studied from afar but had never dared to touch.
Her skin warmed beneath his palms, every scar, every rune a story written in the language of survival.He didn't flinch from them.He didn't pretend not to see them.
He worshipped them.
He pressed kisses to her collarbone, to the soft inside of her wrists, to the places she rarely let anyone see.
And Annie—chaotic, reckless, fierce Annie—shuddered under the weight of that devotion.
She touched him too, tentative at first, then with growing surety—hands mapping his body with wonder, with awe, like she was discovering entire constellations written across his skin.
When he laid her down onto the glassy platform—the stars catching in her hair like tiny, brilliant jewels—
it felt less like conquest,and more like consecration.
Above them, galaxies spun—wild and vibrant,celebrating as if the universe itself had been waiting for this moment too.
Malvor hovered over her, breathing hard, his forehead pressed gently to hers.
They didn't speak.They didn't need to.
Their bodies spoke for them—in kisses, in gasps, in the lingering tremble of fingers tracing skin.In the soft, breathless laughter that bubbled up between gasps of wonder.In the moans that slipped free when words weren't enough.
Every touch was a conversation.Every kiss, a confession.
It was not desperate.It was devotional.
He kissed the corner of her mouth—then her jaw—then the pulse fluttering wildly at her throat.
She arched into him, a soft, helpless sound escaping her lips, and the bond between them shivered like a struck chord.
He murmured her name into her skin like an invocation,and she answered him with the slide of her hands down his back, anchoring him to her, grounding him in the only thing that had ever mattered.
They moved slowly—unraveling each other.Layer by layer.Piece by precious piece.
There was no rush.No fear.
Only need.Only reverence.
When he sank into her, it was not a claiming.It was a joining.A prayer whispered in a language made only for them.
Annie gasped, clinging to him, and he kissed her through it, breathing her in like he would never get enough.
They moved together, slow and aching, the stars spinning wildly above them—as if the whole universe had been holding its breath for this.
There was no end.No beginning.
Only this.Only them.
And when they finally collapsed into each other, bodies trembling, hearts hammering in tandem—
there were no words.No need for them.
Only the bond—warm, golden, complete—singing between them, cradling them in light.
Malvor traced the edge of her ribs where the ancient runes curled like poetry written into her very soul.He kissed the hollow of her throat where laughter used to live, and where now—hopetook root.
His thumb brushed the corner of her mouth, slow and almost awed, as if he couldn't quite believe she was real.Her eyes shimmered with starlight, locked on his—vulnerable, fierce, endless.
And in that impossible place—where chaos met the infinite night—
they made something beautiful.
Something that was not just want.Something that was not even just love.
It was home.