It fell swiftly. Burning.
There was a flash of light. Everything lit up with fire as a loud boom reverberated through the meadow.
She fell back, head smacking against the ground. She winced, ears ringing.
When she was finally able to get her shaking legs underneath her, she stared, entranced, at the large crater smoking in the middle of the flower meadow.
She stumbled down the side of the hill, knees weak.
The air was hot, her long hair sticking to her nape. The flowers sizzled, petals turning to ash and crumbling as she swept past.
The girl stalled right at the crater’s edge. Her parents would surely kill her for her recklessness. But she had to know. Something was drawing her here—to this smoking dip in the meadow.
Slowly, she fell to her knees and crawled to the edge of the crater, fingers gripping the burnt, blackened edges. It was warm to the touch.
She held her breath and peered over the edge.
"A man," she breathed, staring down at the man curled in the midst of the crater.
He was on his side, skin bare and golden. Her cheeks warmed as her curious eyes dipped to his muscled thighs.
Steam curled from the blackened edges of the crater, wafting from his strong shoulders and the entirety of his flesh.
She leaned closer; the edge gave way, and she tumbled down into the crater. She gave a low sound of shock as her knees slammed into the packed dirt.
She rose, palms flat against the scorched dirt. It was hotter here. Almost burned to touch.
She reached out, hand shaking, as she touched her fingertip to his shoulder. He did not stir.
Her wide eyes fell to his chest. She caught the steady rising and falling motion. His black hair rustled faintly where it fell into his eyes. His lips were parted. She hovered her palm before his mouth, feeling the hot breath he breathed. A low sound emitted from his chest, like a deep groan of a mountain shifting before a quake.
She jerked her hand away and scrambled back. Sediment fell into her brown hair, turning it white.
His chest hitched. She watched his eyes move behind his closed lids before his eyes opened in a sharp motion. They were wide and clear.
And dark as the night sky above.
They fell right to her.
She froze.
The man sat up slowly with a pained moan. His legs shifted, revealing his manhood. Her eyes widened.
"Who are you?"
The man’s voice made her jerk her frightened gaze back to his face.
She tried to speak, but words escaped her—all that came out was a soft wheeze of air.
He spoke again, tone wavering. "Where am I?"
"Y-you’re in Luxuria," the girl managed. No recognition sparked in the man’s eyes as she said the name of her village.
"Luxuria," he echoed. He spoke strangely, his words stilted.
Her fingers dug into the warm dirt beneath her.
"Who are you?" he repeated. The waver to his tone had ebbed the longer she sat there,staringat him—as if he deemed her to be no threat.
