The words came out easier than he expected. Natural. Like they'd been sitting in his throat waiting to be said.
Helena's eyes widened.
Her lips trembled harder. Her grip on his cock tightened—not painfully, just... 'desperately.' Like she needed to hold onto something real.
"Young Master..."
And then she moved.
SNAP.
Her free hand came up. Fingers pressed together. And she 'snapped.'
The sound echoed through the chamber.
Simple. Sharp. Clear.
But the effect?
"'What the—?!'"
Viktor's eyes went wide.
Mira gasped, her hand flying to her mouth.
Even Elara—still kneeling on the floor, face flushed with embarrassment—looked up, amber eyes widening in shock.
The black obsidian floor beneath them 'cracked.'
Not violently. Not like stone breaking. But... 'opening.' Like the earth itself was yawning awake.
Green shoots erupted from the fissures.
Tiny. Delicate. But growing 'fast.'
