The isnd shimmered under the soft glow of mist and moonlight, its waters curling gently around the shores like a lover’s embrace. The air was thick with the scent of damp earth, pine syrup, and something richer—something sultry, like honeyed musk. Catherina exhaled slowly, arms crossed, as two divine presences intruded upon her realm.
Xyliades and Akridion.
One gleamed like the celestial trees of his domain, statuesque and luminous. The other was a tangle of dark vines and damp sin, his gaze always half-lidded, like a man who knew how to make someone beg before they even realized they wanted to.
Catherina’s mist curled around her shoulders, defensive, but she smirked at them both. “To what do I owe the pleasure? Gods like you don’t usually wander into my isnd unannounced.”
Xyliades folded his arms, golden flecks in his eyes catching the dim light. “It’s Glykaia.”
Akridion’s vines slithered zily along his skin, brushing against Catherina’s wrist, his voice deep and amused. “She said you’re in love with the Ocean Madman.”
Catherina ughed. “That girl. She ought to be the Goddess of Gossip.”
The three of them chuckled, but there was a weight behind it.
Xyliades’s expression sharpened. “But really—Catherina, is that true?”
She tilted her head, mist twining between her fingers like zy threads of silk. “Love? Hardly. But I do want him.”
Akridion hummed, stepping closer, the air thickening between them. “And here I thought I was your favorite,” he murmured, voice husky, his breath brushing her cheek.
His vines coiled, feather-light but deliberate, teasing her skin. The dampness of them was cool against her warmth, a contrast that made her shiver. His lips quirked as he felt her reaction.
She huffed. “Stop pying, Akridion.”
“Oh, but I love pying,” he murmured, letting a vine trail along her colrbone. “And I’d love to know—why him? Why not me?”
Catherina rolled her eyes, but she didn’t push him away.
“Because men like him,” she purred, leaning into Akridion’s teasing touch, “are like my father.”
Xyliades raised an eyebrow. “I don’t follow.”
Catherina smirked, brushing her fingers along Akridion’s arm, trailing down the shimmering silver veins on his skin. He inhaled sharply, her touch electric, and she knew she had him—just like she knew how to py gods like Krataigón.
“Men like my father,” she said, her voice sweet and dripping with promise, “think they are untouchable. Think they are the rulers of tides, the breakers of wills.” She dragged her nails lightly down Akridion’s chest, feeling the subtle tension beneath his damp skin. “But men like that? They need to be humbled.”
She curled her fingers in Akridion’s dark, wet locks, tugging just enough to hear the softest groan from him. A thrill coiled in her stomach.
Akridion smirked through half-lidded eyes, pying along, his vines tightening around her waist. “Oh? And you think you can humble him?”
“I don’t think.” She leaned closer, her lips a breath away from his. “I know.”
Then she kissed him.
A slow, teasing thing—wet and warm, tasting of rain and rich, green things. Akridion’s fingers curled around her hip, pulling her closer as his vines wound around her thigh. He wasn’t the type to beg outright, but he was pliant beneath her touch, his usual zy demeanor sharpening into hunger.
“Ahh—” he exhaled against her mouth as she deepened the kiss, nails pressing lightly into his skin.
Xyliades made a noise of disapproval. “Alright, alright. You lustful pair can continue without an audience.”
Akridion chuckled against her lips. “Jealous, Xyliades?”
Xyliades scoffed, brushing non-existent dust from his shimmering robes. “Hardly. I’ll leave you to your games.”
Catherina smirked as he turned, his form fading into golden light. “ I will come say hello to you in Asterilthos Grove next time.”
Xyliades only waved a hand in dismissal before he vanished.
Akridion turned back to her, vines tracing idle patterns on her back. “So. Still want Krataigón?”
Catherina tilted her head, voice thick with amusement. “Of course. But that doesn’t mean I can’t have others.”
Akridion let out a deep chuckle. “Now that’s the Catherina I love.”
She smirked, pressing another slow kiss to his lips.
Krataigón had no idea what was coming for him.
And she was going to enjoy every second of it.
_______
Xyliades stepped off the shimmering threshold of the lost isnd, his tall form cutting through the twilight as he made his way down the rocky shore. His eyes, glowing with celestial light, narrowed as he caught sight of Krataigón. The Whirlpool God was still struggling with the massive, jagged rocks that surrounded Catherina’s isnd, an almost futile effort to breach the perimeter of her domain. Xyliades smirked, a mix of amusement and something darker swirling in his gaze.
“Well, well,” Xyliades called out, his voice carrying over the crashing waves. “You are indeed a fiery one, Krataigón.” He stepped forward, the light in his eyes gleaming like distant stars. “Catherina would very much be looking forward to breaking you.”
Krataigón froze at the sound of Xyliades' voice, his eyes snapping up to the god who had appeared out of nowhere. He was stunned—he'd never seen this god before, and yet the confidence that radiated from him was undeniable. What did he mean? What was this god implying? His mind raced.
He shook his head, focusing again on the task at hand, pushing forward against the swirling water, but his thoughts kept circling back to her—Catherina. “Is she thinking about me?” he muttered under his breath, his brow furrowing in confusion. “Her face... her anger...”
Suddenly, a fsh of another face filled his thoughts, soft and delicate—Nymph Nancy. His heart ached with longing, the memory of her submission, her tear-streaked face, as she begged for him. He had loved dominating her, hearing her plead, feeling the power in his hands as he bent her to his will. She was so beautiful, so fragile... and he wanted more. He couldn’t stop himself from yearning to break her even further.
“Soon,” he whispered to himself, the hunger in his chest burning brighter.
