CHAPTER 200: DROPPING

Kiara stepped closer, her voice dropping to a low, precise murmur, wrapping around Olivia like silk that could choke.

"You know the Guiding Light helps you, Olivia. It gives you clarity. Lets you see spells, math, numbers in ways you never could. But it doesn’t make Lor smarter. It doesn’t give him anything."

Olivia’s brows drew together, her lips parting as memory surfaced—Lor’s words sometime at the start of their first ritual.

The Light is genius. I’m just the vessel.

Her chest squeezed, her throat tightening. She nodded faintly, her voice soft.

"...Yes. He told me."

Kiara tilted her head, her smile sharpening, predatory. "Then you see it, don’t you? You’re climbing higher. You’ll score better. You’ll make your noble house proud and achieve your dreams and whatever. But what about him?"

Her gaze cut to Lor, her voice soft but piercing. "He’ll stay at the bottom. Forever. Carrying everyone else’s weight."

Olivia’s breath shook, her fingers crumpling the edges of her notebook.

She looked at Lor, his hazel eyes steady but tired, and her voice wavered.

"That’s... true." She swallowed, her resolve hardening. "Then... I can help him. Tutor him. If he needs, I’ll teach him myself."

Kiara’s laugh was light but bitter, cutting through the air.

"There’s no time for that. The inter-class academic tournament is the day after tomorrow. You think tutoring him a few hours will close the gap?"

Olivia’s heart sank, her hazel eyes dimming. "Then what do I do?"

Kiara’s smile sharpened, her eyes glinting with a dangerous intent.

"You know what you do. Another ritual. But this time—you don’t ask the Light to guide you. You ask it to guide Lor. Give him what you’ve been taking. Let him rise, too."

Olivia’s eyes widened, her fingers clenching her notebook tighter, it trembled in her hands, her hazel eyes—usually sharp—glistening with a faint, unguarded sheen.

She looked at Lor, not at Kiara’s towering presence in the doorway, not at the electric tension crackling through the room, but straight into his hazel eyes, searching for something solid.

"I..." Her voice cracked, then steadied with visible effort, her lips pressing tight.

"I’ve been selfish. All this time. Using you, treating you like... like you were just a ladder. I didn’t think of what it cost you."

Lor blinked, caught off guard.

Olivia’s mask faltered, her tone was raw, honest, stripped of pretense.

Her words hung heavy, mingling with the dust motes swirling in the slanted sunlight.

She drew a shaky breath, exhaling as if it cost her pride.

"I’m sorry, Lor. Truly. If you still want to do this... if this ritual can help you instead of me, then yes. I’ll do it."

His lips parted in a slow, almost smug grin, though he kept his voice level, kind. "Are you sure, Olivia?"

Her jaw tightened, her hazel eyes flickering with resolve. "Yes."

Behind him, Kiara’s lips curved into a secretive smile, her icy-blue eyes catching his for a fleeting moment, a conspiratorial wink flashing through the air.

That’s what we were playing at, her gaze said, trapping her in your web—like I promised.

Lor’s pulse quickened, a heady mix of thrill and relief buzzing in his veins.

Am I the luckiest person alive to have a girlfriend like Kiara or what? he thought, barely suppressing a smirk.

He slipped his hand into his pocket, fingers brushing the cool edge of the silver coin, and he drew it out and placed it on the scuffed wooden floor between him and Olivia.

She sat cross-legged across from him, her posture stiff, her charcoal-gray pants clinging to her thighs, her blouse still faintly damp from their earlier intimacy.

Kiara lingered against the wall, arms folded under her bust, her blouse straining as she leaned casually, her presence like a director watching a play she’d scripted.

Lor closed his eyes, his breaths slowing, deepening, until the air in the room seemed to thicken, heavy with anticipation.

He opened his eyes again, his irises glowing faintly silver, his voice dropping into that otherworldly timbre he’d honed to perfection—resonant, almost alien.

The coin lifted from the floor, suspended in the air between them, spinning slowly as if caught on invisible threads, glinting in the sunlight.

Olivia’s throat bobbed, her fingers clenching her knees, her hazel eyes wide with nervous anticipation.

Kiara’s smile widened, her eyes gleaming as if savoring the moment.

"What guidance do you seek, child?" Lor’s voice reverberated, filling the room with a weight that pressed against the stone walls.

Olivia hesitated, her lips pressing together, her breath shallow.

Then she spoke, her voice steady but soft, trembling with sincerity. "I... I seek guidance for Lor. That he may improve in mathematics. In spell theory. That he can rise with us."

The air pulsed with the coin’s slow rotation, the room seeming to hold its breath.

Lor’s glowing eyes softened, his lips curling into a solemn smile, his voice deepening further.

"A good child you are, for such kindness to my vessel. To wish for his growth, not yours. The Light... smiles on such a request."

Kiara’s smile widened in the background, her eyes drinking the words like wine, her posture relaxed but predatory.

Lor closed his eyes, clutching his head as if in sudden pain, the coin dropping with a sharp clink against the floor, rolling a few inches before spinning to a halt.

He exhaled raggedly, his glow dimming as he leaned back, feigning strain, his hazel eyes flickering with a mix of exhaustion and amusement.

Olivia leaned forward, her composure cracking with urgency, her voice sharp. "What did it say?"

Lor kept his eyes lowered, embarrassed, hesitant, his breath uneven, drawing out the moment. "Umm... umm... It..."

Her brow furrowed, her hands tightening on her thighs. "What is it?"

He raised his gaze to hers, his expression torn, hesitant, as if wrestling with the words.

"The Light says..." He swallowed, then forced them out, his voice low. "The Light wants me to have intercourse with you."