Mysterious Man

1325 BC

High up above, the night sky was a canvas of darkness, with a luminous moon casting its silver glow over the grand palace that sat atop the pinnacle of the bustling city. The soft moonlight filtered through billowing drapes, creating silhouettes of two entwined figures behind the golden silk sheets of a four-poster bed. The room, adorned with opulence, bore witness to whispered secrets and fervent passions.

The bed, surrounded by silk and lavish pillows, creaked rhythmically as low moans mingled with the breeze, drifting into the shadows of the night.

"Ahh! Not too deep," a woman gasped as her back pressed against the cold stone wall, a mix of pleasure and pain etched on her face.

The man before her moved with a primal intensity, his powerful form silhouetted against the dim candlelight. Muscles rippled under golden skin, his eyes a molten amber that gleamed with both desire and dominance. His movements were unyielding, every touch a reminder of the power he wielded not just in this chamber but across his vast empire.

"My King, you always treat me like a barbarian!" she cried, her voice trembling as waves of ecstasy rolled over her. Her body responded to his every touch, her breaths coming in ragged gasps as the room filled with the wet, rhythmic sounds of their union.

He remained silent, his only reply the growl that escaped his lips as he tightened his grip on her hair, pulling her head back to expose the curve of her neck. His mouth hovered over her skin, hot breath fanning against her pulse.

"This is what happens to those who seek the king without his call," he murmured, his voice a dangerous blend of silk and steel. His hips moved with deliberate control, every motion a dance between pleasure and restraint.

Her cries echoed off the stone walls, her nails raking against his broad back. His lips found her neck, pressing heated kisses along her skin, each one a promise of both pleasure and warning.

When his release came, it was a shuddering sigh against her ear, his control maintained even as his body tensed with need. His hands held her firmly, a master of his desires, never giving more than he intended.

A knock at the door cut through the heavy silence.

"Enter," the man commanded, his voice devoid of the heat it held moments before.

A figure slipped into the room, head bowed. "My King," he greeted, his tone reverent.

"Take this woman back to her chambers. I do not wish to see her in the morning," the king ordered, already moving towards a basin where steam curled from heated water.

"Yes, My King. I have arranged for your bath. Shall I prepare the guards for tonight's patrols?"

"Do so. And see to it that no one disturbs me further," he replied, shedding the remnants of his robes as he sank into the water, the heat easing the tension from his muscles.

This man, Rameses II, the Pharaoh of Egypt, was more than a king. To his people, he was a living god, the Golden Lion whose strength and ferocity were known far and wide. His enemies trembled at the mention of his name, tales of his ruthless conquests and brutal punishments spreading like wildfire.

Horus, the general and his most trusted advisor, lingered by the door. "My King, if I may speak freely—if you continue to entertain this woman, her father will surely demand a marriage."

A smirk played on Rameses' lips. "Your role, Horus, is to lead my armies, not concern yourself with my bed. These women are nothing more than pawns. Their families push them into my chambers, hoping for wealth and power, but they will gain nothing."

"I understand, but her family is cunning. They might lay a trap."

"Let them try," Rameses said, his voice cold and unyielding. "They would not dare cross me."

Horus bowed low, sensing the dismissal. "As you wish, My King."

Alone once more, Rameses reclined in the bath, his head tilted back as he gazed at the moon through the window. A rare softness crossed his features, a vulnerability hidden beneath layers of pride and power.

"When will you return to me?" he whispered, the question swallowed by the night.

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Year 2020

Months flew by, and Jade excelled in her studies, consistently scoring high marks in her classes. She absorbed knowledge with an insatiable curiosity, her interest in human anatomy and pathophysiology growing with every lecture.

"I still can't believe I got a low score on my Medicinal Chemistry class," Angela whined, her green eyes welling with tears.

Jade didn't look up from her notebook. "You don't really feel bad, Angela."

"What? How could you say that? I'm devastated!" Angela's voice rose, a perfect mix of indignation and drama.

Jade merely raised an eyebrow. "Your eyes are gleaming with excitement. The act isn't fooling anyone."

"Ugh, Jade! This is why you're my best friend! You see right through me," Angela said, the tears vanishing instantly as a grin spread across her face.

"I don't get why you're torturing yourself with this course. It's clear medicine isn't your passion."

Angela's smile faltered, and her gaze dropped to her fidgeting hands. Silence stretched between them until Jade sighed and shifted the conversation.

"Anyway, is your luggage ready for Cairo yet?"

Angela's mood brightened immediately. "Yes! I'm so excited! We're leaving in two days!"

Jade watched her friend bounce around the room, the earlier melancholy forgotten. A sense of foreboding settled over her as she glanced out the window. The full moon hung low in the sky, its glow unsettling.

"Something tells me this trip is going to be more than just an adventure," Jade murmured, her fingers unconsciously tracing the silver pendant around her neck—a gift from her mother, a protective charm from a land long forgotten.