Chapter 23: The Crimson Queen’s Oath [18+]

The battlefield was quiet now.

Ash still lingered in the wind. The soil still bore the prints of bodies—fighting, falling, writhing in the throes of climax and combat. But the sun had risen high, and the Temple of Veyra stood untouched.

Rivan walked alone through the ruins of war, bare-chested, pants slung low on his hips, LustCore symbols faintly glowing on his skin.

[System Update: Territory Secured | Flameborn Domain Expansion – 2 New Regions Detected]

He reached the top of the ridge.

And saw her.

Not a soldier. Not a scout.

A queen.

She was waiting alone in a circle of red silk, seated on a floating dais barely touching the ground. Her throne was simple—elegant but sharp, like her.

She didn't stand.

She waited.

[Alert: Unknown Flame Signature Detected – Classification: Royal Core | Name: Queen Selyra | Class: Lustborn Matron]

She wore nothing beneath her silk robe but gold-threaded chains that looped across her breasts, her thighs bare, her lips painted black.

And she smiled like a woman who knew the weight of empires… and the pressure of cock.

"You've made quite the mess," she said.

Rivan stepped closer.

"And you've sent quite the army."

She tilted her head. "I had to know what kind of king you are."

"I'm not a king," he said.

"You are now."

She stood slowly, her robe parting with every inch of motion. Her body was older than Lyssha's, than Seraxa's—but honed by pleasure and power. Her breasts were full, round, proudly bared. Her hips wide, her belly soft with womanhood, her thighs kissed by silk.

"Tell me, Flameborn," she whispered. "Do you fuck all your enemies before you defeat them?"

Rivan stopped in front of her.

"No," he said. "Only the ones worth keeping."

She smiled wider.

[System Sync Attempted – User Mental Lock Engaged]

"I'm not here to fight," she said. "Or seduce. I'm here to negotiate."

He narrowed his eyes.

"Why now?"

"Because you didn't just win a war," she said, circling him. "You converted my sword. You cracked my cult. And worst of all... you made them moan."

She stopped behind him.

Whispered into his ear.

"I want to know what that feels like."

[System Notice: Royal Pact Ritual Initiated – Consent Pending from Both Parties | Risk: Political + Erotic High-Stakes Event]

The Queen didn't move first.

She waited.

Every part of her posture was designed to provoke. A leg draped over her throne's armrest. A gold chain dangling between her breasts, catching the sun just enough to pull his gaze. And those eyes—older, wiser, dripping with a kind of arrogance only earned by ruling over moaning masses.

"I've watched your rise," she said.

"I didn't ask you to," Rivan replied.

"Queens don't need permission to observe."

He stepped forward. "And kings don't need approval to claim."

She smiled. "Then claim me, if you can."

[System Alert: Royal Pact Ritual Active – Step One: Mutual Undressing Initiated]

Rivan dropped his flamecloak. His body was already glowing with residual LustCore heat—chiseled, hard, and slightly bruised from the fight.

Selyra's eyes dipped.

"You're more than myth," she murmured.

"And you're more than threat," he said.

She rose.

Undid the clasp of her silk robe. Let it fall.

She wore nothing beneath it.

Her skin was sun-kissed bronze, marred only by ritual scars that traced her thighs and ribs. Her breasts—full, round, heavy—swayed slightly with her movement. Her nipples pierced with dark rings.

She turned once—slowly.

Showing him all of her.

"I offer this not in surrender," she said. "But in negotiation."

He tilted his head. "And what's the deal?"

"You take me," she said. "Right here. Right now. Make me scream before your warriors. And in return… I offer peace."

[System Notification: Royal Submission Pact – Valid | Clause: Erotic Public Seal Required]

Behind them, warriors of both sects watched from a distance. Not intervening.

Just waiting.

Rivan stepped to her. Pressed his hand against her bare stomach.

"You want this?"

"I need it," she whispered. "Because if I scream for you, Rivan… every woman who follows me will kneel."

The Queen lay back on her throne of silk, legs spread, fingers gripping the armrests like they were restraints. Her body shimmered under the sun, thighs slick with anticipation, nipples hard and begging for attention.

Around them, warriors from both sides stood at the ready—silent witnesses to a battle of pleasure, not blades.

[System Ritual Mode Activated: Royal Pact in Progress | Objective: Complete Orgasmic Submission of Target – Queen Selyra]

Rivan knelt between her thighs, one hand stroking the soft skin just above her folds, the other pressed over her sternum, feeling her heart pound.

"You're sure this seals the pact?" he murmured.

Selyra shuddered. "Make me scream, Flameborn. Make me beg. And peace is yours."

He lowered his mouth.

And began.

His tongue moved with precision.

Not rushed. Not clumsy.

Slow.

Circular.

Purposeful.

Her back arched within seconds.

Her legs tightened around his head, but Rivan was unshakable. He used his fingers to spread her, lips finding her most sensitive spot, tongue flicking and sucking in a rhythm matched to the rise of her moans.

[System Note: Queen Selyra Orgasm Threshold: 82%]

Her hips bucked.

Her moans turned to gasps.

Then to curses.

"Fuck—yes—harder—Rivan—"

He obeyed.

Added two fingers inside her, curling upward, grazing the inner flame. Her hands clawed the silk. Her voice cracked. And then—

She came.

Hard.

Loud.

Raw.

A scream that echoed across the ridge.

[Ritual Seal Complete — Flame Thread Bonded | Peace Accord Locked] [Domain Loyalty Expanded – Crimson Tribes | Title Earned: Flamebinder of Queens]

Rivan rose.

The Queen lay there—panting, flushed, smiling through the haze.

"You win," she whispered. "And I serve."

Selyra sat on the edge of the throne, robe barely clinging to her shoulders, skin still flushed from climax. Rivan stood beside her, silent but watchful. Around them, the warriors of both Flameborn and Crimson tribes had fallen to one knee—not in defeat, but reverence.

What they had witnessed wasn't just sex.

It was power.

[System Update: Inter-Factional Loyalty Bonded | Region Status: Peace-Linked via Royal Pact]

Kaela approached first, bowing with a smirk. "You made a queen scream so loud, I thought the ridge would collapse."

Myra added, "Now we know why the throne's built with stone."

Even Seraxa, the ever-proud sin incarnate, gave a nod. "She's yours now. Just like the rest of us."

But Selyra shook her head.

"I'm not his," she said. "I serve his flame. But I am still queen."

Rivan smiled. "And I'll treat you as such."

Saelra stepped forward with a flask of sacred water. "Then drink, both of you. Bind the pact not just with flesh, but flame."

They drank.

And with that, the Flameborn Empire grew by another queen.

Later – In the Private Flame Chamber

Selyra leaned against him, naked beneath sheer sheets, her voice low.

"There's something coming," she whispered. "A force greater than your system. One that neither fucks nor bleeds."

Rivan turned his head. "What is it?"

She swallowed hard.

"The Blackroot Cult. They've awakened… something."

[System Warning: Unscanned Threat – Ancient Malevolence | Unknown Capabilities | Potential System Disruption Detected]

Rivan tightened his grip on her waist.

"Then we'll burn that shadow too."

---

To be continued ---

---

Next Chapter (24): Heat That Breaks Steel [18+] Where one broken warrior challenges the entire system—and either Rivan saves her, or she destroys everything he's built.

---