Desires & Heresy

The night had been long. Indulgent.

Viviana lay beneath him, her body shining with a thin sheen of sweat, flushed and trembling. 

The once-perfect waves of her chestnut-brown hair were now a tangled mess against the pillows, her hazel eyes hazy with exhaustion and lingering pleasure.

Zane traced a slow path down her naked, heaving chest, his fingertips grazing the soft curve of her breast before rolling over the achingly stiff nipple. Viviana shuddered, her breath hitching as he gave it a teasing pinch.

"Still sensitive?" he murmured, voice thick with amusement.

Viviana whimpered, too spent to respond.

He smirked.

His lips trailed lower, pressing soft, deliberate kisses against her sweat-damp skin. He wanted to mark her—to remind her who had unraveled her so completely.

And she had unraveled beautifully.

Her breasts were so full that even his hand couldn't fully grasp them, the softness spilling between his fingers as he toyed with her. Her plush thighs had quivered beneath his touch, parting instinctively for him. And by the end of it all, she had begged.

She had given in to him, to pleasure, to sin.

And Zane had enjoyed every second of it.

Now, as he lay beside her, watching her half-lidded gaze and the slow rise and fall of her chest, he let satisfaction settle deep in his bones.

Last night was more than indulgence…

Viviana stretched slightly, the motion causing the silk sheets to slip lower down her back. She sighed—not in exhaustion, but in relief.

"How do you feel?" Zane asked, his voice still laced with sleep.

Viviana smirked, turning just enough to glance at him over her shoulder.

"Relieved."

Zane arched a brow. "Relieved?"

She hummed, shifting to press against him, her fingers tracing slow, lazy circles on his forearm. "You don't understand, do you?"

Her voice was still husky from the night before, sultry and teasing.

"For so long, I was… refined. Restrained. A noblewoman, a wife, a mother." Her nails lightly dragged against his skin.

Then she turned fully, her naked chest pressing into his, as she met his gaze.

"But last night—" Her voice dipped, heavy with satisfaction. "I was just me again."

Zane chuckled, playing with a lock of her hair.

"So, I helped return you to your true self?"

Viviana tilted her head as if considering it, then her lips curled.

"Something like that."

Zane ran his fingers through her hair, his touch slow, deliberate, as if savoring the feel of her thick, chestnut-brown locks between his fingers.

Then, as if the thought had only just occurred to him, he said, "I need a favor from you."

Viviana arched a brow, amusement flickering in her hazel eyes.

"Already? My, you don't waste time."

Zane merely smirked. "I need you to speak with Eleanor."

At that, her teasing expression faltered slightly. Not much—just a flicker. But Zane caught it.

Then, she recovered, sharper than before.

"Why?" Her tone was playful, but there was a hint of something beneath it. "Are you setting your sights on my dear friend now?"

Zane didn't hesitate. Didn't lie.

He smirked. "Even before you."

Viviana's brows twitched. A reaction. Small, but satisfying.

Her lips parted as if to retort, but instead, she scoffed, turning her back to him.

With a sigh, she pressed herself against his chest once more, the warmth of her bare skin pressing into his. The faint scent of lavender oil clung to her, mixing with the remnants of last night.

"You really don't know how to take a hit, do you?" she murmured.

Zane only laughed.

The knock on Eleanor's door came earlier than expected.

Eleanor didn't move. 

For days, she had barely stepped beyond the walls of her chambers. Praying. Seeking guidance. But no answers had come.

And now—

A voice.

"High Priestess, it's me."

Viviana.

Eleanor clenched her jaw. 

"Go away," she called, her voice hoarse from disuse.

A pause. Then—

"You've been locked in here too long, Eleanor."

Eleanor's grip on her robe tightened.

"I said, I can't talk now."

Another silence.

Then—the door creaked open.

Eleanor whipped around, startled.

Viviana had pushed it open smoothly, stepping inside as if she belonged there.

Her chestnut waves cascaded over her shoulder as she closed the door behind her. She didn't look apologetic. Not even slightly.

Eleanor glared. "You can't just barge in here."

Viviana met her stare with calm amusement.

"Clearly, I can."

Eleanor scowled, but her body was too weak to argue.

Viviana's gaze swept over her. The once-flawless High Priestess looked pale, unkempt. Her golden-blonde hair was unbraided, falling loosely around her shoulders. The deep shadows beneath her radiant gold eyes were proof of how little she had slept.

"You look awful," Viviana noted, voice smooth. "And before you tell me to leave—no. We're talking."

Eleanor exhaled sharply, pressing her fingers against her temple. "About what?"

Viviana took a seat across from her, as if this were her room, not Eleanor's.

She leaned forward slightly, tilting her head. "I was with High Priest Zion Aldrich yesterday."

Eleanor's breath hitched.

Viviana caught the reaction but didn't push.

"He asked about you," she continued, her voice light, almost casual. "Wanted to know if I had spoken to you. If you were doing alright."

Eleanor's hands curled into fists.

Zion had… asked about me?

Viviana smirked slightly, watching her closely. "I'll admit, I was surprised. You've barely spoken to him, yet he still cares. And here you are, refusing to face him—even for a moment."

Eleanor looked away. "You wouldn't understand. I've committed a sin I can't even speak of… and I led him into it, too. I have no right to stand before him."

Viviana hummed. "I don't know what happened… but do you really think ignoring him is the right choice?"

Eleanor said nothing.

"Tell me something," Viviana continued, brushing invisible dust off her sleeve. "You've been in here for days. Praying. Thinking. Wondering." She lifted her gaze to Eleanor's. "Have you figured anything out?"

Eleanor's jaw tightened.

She hadn't.

She had prayed for answers, begged for guidance.

And yet, her mind always returned to him.

Viviana sighed, leaning back. "Maybe you're not here to find answers."

Eleanor frowned. "What?"

"Maybe you're just waiting," Viviana mused, tracing her finger along the wooden table. "For something. For someone."

Silence.

Eleanor opened her mouth to deny it, but no words came.

Because Viviana was right.

She was waiting.

Waiting for clarity. Waiting for an answer. Waiting for him.

Viviana stood, smoothing out the folds of her dress.

"Think about it."

Eleanor sat there, lost in thought.

Viviana left. 

That Evening

Eleanor found herself standing near the altar, waiting.

Waiting for him.

The grand hall was dimly lit, the flickering candlelight casting shadows along the polished stone. The scent of burning incense filled the air, thick and suffocating.

She shouldn't be here. 

I have no right to stand before Goddess Lunara. I shouldn't be here.

And yet, she was.

A familiar presence loomed nearby.

She turned, her breath catching as she met his gaze.

And Zane stepped forward. Emerging from the shadows, his amber eyes gleaming with quiet triumph.

She had come to him.

Just as he had known she would.

[Eleanor Corruption: 86%]

[Viviana Corruption: 100%]

[Progression Reward: +4 Holy Influence]

[Side Corruption Target Completion Reward: "Conviction"] – Any corruption target perceives the host's words as more genuine and emotionally compelling than necessary.

[Time Left: 2 months, 9 days]