The voice was clear, cheerful, and terrified Sol more than any beast.
Veyra.
"We're back!" another voice chimed in… lighter, younger. Liora.
Sol froze. He looked down at Lyra.
She was a disaster. Her trousers were soaked darker at the crotch from her earlier climax. Her tunic was bunched up. But worst of all, the side of her neck, her collarbone, and her left breast were streaked with white, drying fluids that smelled unmistakably of sex.
She was in no state to be seen.
"Shit," Sol hissed, panic piercing his lust-addled brain.
He shook Lyra's shoulder hard. "Aunt! Snap out of it! They are here!"
Lyra blinked, the haze slowly lifting. She looked at Sol, then down at the sticky white mess on her chest.
"The poison..." she mumbled, touching it. "It smells... musky."
The footsteps stopped right at the door. The latch began to lift.
"Why is the door closed?" Veyra's voice came, muffled by the wood.
"Shit, Shit, shit," he hissed under his breath.
