The Deadly Charm

Part 63 : The Calm Before the Curse

Love in the shadows. War on the horizon.

Nightfall draped Kritin's manor in stillness, but Akira's heart was anything but calm.

Seated at her vanity, she brushed her long, silken hair slowly, lost in her own thoughts. A soft light from the nearby lamp reflected her face in the mirror—beautiful, but troubled.

The looming confrontation with the Khmer sorcerer, Yong San, haunted her thoughts. Kritin had reassured her countless times that he could handle it. But Akira knew better. The power they were about to face wasn't something to be taken lightly—and she didn't want him to go alone.

The sound of water from the shower ceased. Moments later, Kritin stepped out of the bathroom, a towel wrapped low around his waist. His sculpted torso glistened slightly with lingering moisture, and without a word, he walked up behind her and wrapped his arms gently around her shoulders.

The strength in his embrace made her feel safe, but not safe enough to banish the storm in her chest.

"What's wrong?" he whispered, his lips brushing against the curve of her ear.

Akira set the brush down and met his gaze in the mirror.

"I'm coming with you."

His eyes held hers. A small, knowing smile formed.

"No. I want you to stay here."

"I know you're strong. But I can't stop worrying..." She turned to face him fully, her amber eyes filled with both fear and fire.

"Trust me," he said softly, placing a kiss on her forehead.

"I don't care. I'm still coming," she insisted, her voice stubborn and familiar to him.

"Don't be difficult," he teased, tapping her nose lightly.

"I—"

"You know what happens to naughty girls, don't you?"
His voice lowered. Dangerous. Playful.

"I—mmph—"

Her protest was swallowed as he kissed her deeply, pulling her into a long, searing kiss that left her breathless.

Before she could recover, Kritin scooped her into his arms, lips never leaving hers. She instinctively wrapped her arms around his neck. He laid her gently on the soft bed and climbed over her, pinning her beneath his body.

"Krit... don't just distract me—ahh..." Her words melted into a moan.

He hummed low in his throat, trailing kisses down her pale neck. Every touch, every movement was calculated—like a spell cast with lips and fingertips. He tugged at the strings of her nightgown, exposing the smooth skin beneath.

Akira gasped softly as his mouth traveled lower, kissing the flat of her stomach before working his way up to the soft curve of her chest. His tongue flicked lightly over her sensitive skin, drawing a shiver from her body.

She whimpered.

He entered her slowly, gently, allowing her body time to adjust. A flash of discomfort was quickly replaced by a rolling wave of pleasure as he moved with maddening control.

His hand slid down her spine to cup her hips, his touch tender but commanding. Akira clung to him, burying her face in the warmth of his chest as the rhythm of their bodies intensified.

The air grew heavier with every breath, every thrust. Their moans echoed in the room until the tension shattered in a final crescendo of pleasure.

Their bodies collapsed into each other, spent but unwilling to separate. They clung to each other like they could fuse their hearts together.

"I love you," Kritin whispered, brushing a kiss across her temple.

"I love you, too," she replied, smiling softly.

As she drifted into sleep in his arms, she felt his hand wandering again, trailing over her skin.

Ugh... is he really not going to let me rest?!

The next morning, before the first light of dawn, Kritin stood before the mirror, buttoning up a fitted black shirt and slipping into combat gear.

His long coat was specially designed—reinforced for battle, resistant to both physical attacks and magical ones. Beneath it, hidden armor offered protection without hindering his agility.

Every item he packed had been chosen with care.

At his hip, a long blade forged from holy iron, engraved with ancient runes that shimmered faintly. It was built to deflect dark forces and guard his soul.

In his boot, a hidden dagger—coated in enchanted herbs and mystic oils meant to pierce spiritual entities.

Slung over his shoulder, a worn leather satchel held sacred artifacts, talismans, holy water, and herbs for healing or exorcism. A pouch tied to his belt carried consecrated beads used to cast protective spells in emergencies.

Fully prepared, Kritin returned to the bedroom.

Akira still lay asleep, her breath slow and peaceful, her face flushed with lingering fatigue from the night before.

He smiled faintly.

Leaning down, he placed a kiss on her cheek and whispered—

"Wait for me."

✨ Next chapter: "The Sorcerer's Reckoning"
He walks alone into the dark—not to survive, but to end it.