The Sinful Young Master

Chapter 245: Kissed by the beauties

Hamen stared at Jolthar, his eyes reflecting a storm of emotions. He sighed heavily, the weight of recent events pressing down on his shoulders like an invisible burden.

Though he recognised that he was no match for the young man—not in combat, not in power—a question nagged at him. How did Jolthar know about his pursuit of his wife? He hadnʼt shared this with anyone, keeping the pain of her departure locked within his heart.

He was sure nobody knew about his wifeʼs disappearance.

What Hamen didnʼt realise was that Joltharʼs comment stemmed from a misunderstanding. Jolthar wasnʼt aware that Hamenʼs wife had been taken away by the deity Inadrys. He had only assumed, based on fragments of conversation and rumour, that she had engaged in an affair with the mysterious deity. The true nature of her disappearance—whether a willing departure or divine abduction—remained unknown to him.

Hamen didnʼt want to say anything about his wife, nor did he want to discuss anything with anybody. He looked at the women who were standing to his side, their eyes upon him; he could already feel the pressure building up. He hadnʼt seen the Matriarch Raayani up this close before.

In a single day, his entire world had been upended. Now, all that remained was the beast and the county—nothing else, yet somehow, everything at once.

”I will have to leave for now,” Hamen said finally, his voice rough with unspoken emotion. ”If time permits, we will meet again.” The words hung between them, neither promise nor threat, simply an acknowledgement that their paths might cross in the future.

Hamen, indeed, hadnʼt given up his wife. He would find her, someday. And Jolthar was going to help, then he would consider.

Without waiting for a response, Hamen turned and walked away. His wyvern, loyal despite all that had transpired, followed close behind. The creatureʼs scales caught the morning light, emerald and amber reflections dancing across its massive form as it moved beside its master.

Other beasts followed him close behind.

Jolthar remained seated against the rock, watching the countʼs retreating figure—a man once feared throughout the county, now diminished by loss and revelation. The drake beside him made a soft rumbling sound as if commenting on the departure.

”Whatʼs up with him?” Raayani asked, her curiosity evident in her tone. She stood with one hand resting on the hilt of her shadow blade, her posture deceptively casual.

”Nothing,” Jolthar replied simply, unwilling to delve into the complexities of Hamenʼs situation.

”Just a man who found hope in despair.”

Then, seeking to change the subject, he asked, ”So what now?”

Raayaniʼs lips curved into a smile that held promise and danger in equal measure. ”Well, you have already dealt with what I came here for,” she said, her voice taking on a seductive quality that hadnʼt been present before. ”So how about coming with me to Blue Rose? I can offer you my thanks.”

The suggestive tone left little doubt as to the nature of the ”thanks” she had in mind. Her eyes, usually sharp and calculating, now held a warm invitation.

Before Jolthar could respond, Yoana stepped forward. ”I, too, would welcome your company,” the Dragon Queen offered, her ancient eyes holding secrets older than empires.

Jolthar pushed himself to his feet, brushing dust from his clothing.

Despite the tempting offers—and they were tempting, even to one as focused as he—duty called elsewhere.

”I would like to,” he admitted, ”but I need to go back to the barony.”

Raayaniʼs smile didnʼt falter. ”All right,” she conceded. ”But the next time I see you, I will drag you away.”

The playful threat carried undertones of genuine intention.

Without warning, she stepped forward stood in front of him. She held his face up close to hers. Her deep azure eyes staring deep into his.

Joltharʼs cheeks turned red and his heart started to beat faster. He was blushing harder. Then she pressed her lips against his. Her lips opening to close his, and she started to caress his lips, and in turn, he responded involuntarily. Their lips mashed up against each other.

The kiss was not brief or chaste—it lingered, carrying heat and promise.

When she finally pulled away, Jolthar stood momentarily dazed, unused to such bold advances.

Raayani winked as she stepped back, clearly pleased with the effect she had created.

”That was to make you remember me,” she said as she licked her lips, liking the taste of him.

Not to be outdone, Yoana moved toward him with the grace of a predator. ”We will talk about you the next time we meet,” she said, her voice like honey over steel.

”Until then...”

She, too, kissed him, but her kiss was different—more sensual, more probing. She pushed her tongue inside his mouth, caressing his; a trace of her energy flowed inside.

Through the contact, she could feel the beast kingʼs power thrumming within him. This was no mere gesture of attraction; it was assessment, confirmation. She sought to verify what she suspected—that Naʼrajinaʼs power had fully transferred to Jolthar, becoming part of his very essence.

There was no Naʼrajina.

It was Jolthar and his power alone.

What she discovered satisfied her.

Naʼrajina and she had a history which she didnʼt like to dwell on, and learning of his demise totally made her elated, and the fact that Jolthar was now the beast king made her pleased.

The beast kingʼs power now belonged completely to Jolthar, integrated with his own unique energies in a way she had never witnessed before.

She smiled as she pulled away, a smile that held satisfaction and something more—anticipation, perhaps, for what this silver-haired youth might become.

”I will meet you again, young Jolthar,” she promised.

Then, stepping back into an open space, her body began to transform.

The change was both beautiful and terrifying to behold—human form elongating, scales erupting across the skin, limbs reshaping into powerful legs and wings. Where the woman had stood now crouched a magnificent serpent dragon, its scales shimmering with colours that seemed to shift in the morning light.

Raayani watched the transformation with a flicker of jealousy crossing her features—not for the dragon form, but for the kiss that had preceded it. She was still suspicious about her words and now her actions too.

Still, she said nothing, maintaining her composure as befitting a woman of her standing.

When the transformation was complete, Raayani approached the dragon without fear. With practised ease, she climbed onto Yoanaʼs back, settling herself between the massive, spacious back.

The serpent dragon spread wings that seemed to catch fire in the sunlight, each membrane a canvas of impossible colours. With a powerful downstroke that sent dust and debris swirling across the hillside, they took to the air.

Jolthar watched them ascend, two of the most dangerous and alluring beings he had ever encountered, now soaring away together. The sight was magnificent—the Dragon Queen in her true form, wings spread against the morning sky, the deadly Matriarch Raayani perched upon her back.

As they disappeared into the distance, Jolthar touched his lips, still feeling the lingering warmth of both kisses. The drake beside him made a sound that almost resembled laughter, prompting a rare smile from the young man.

”Not a word from you,” he muttered to the creature, which responded by nudging him with its massive head.

The soldiers also watched what transpired here, and they were watching how the dragon took its flight, and they were dazed by the beautiful beings. But that didnʼt last long, as they were back to their work.

The fire in the pit started to burn brighter as they lit up the bodies. The bodies of the dead men – they burnt them to avoid getting any contagious diseases. It was the norm after the war.

Remin had set up a camp in the meadows; until everything was settled, he would stay here. He ordered the men to bring the pouch and the severed limbs of Yilar to his tent.

Jolthar stood watching the meadows; stretching his arms, he thought it was about time he left. War was over, and he was no longer needed here. So he turned to his drake, Maelruth, and patted her, telling her it was time to get back.

-

Meanwhile, Myron who was in the woods, a couple of miles from the city, he stopped as he walked away from the county. He was injured, not fatal but visible, hurt from the collapse of the rubble.

As he was sitting on a stone, under a tree, thinking deeply about Jolthar and about what happened here. He didnʼt feel in the slightest bit of a hurry to the city of Avyaburgh. Elara had sent him a letter through a bird, telling him to come back quickly. She wanted to meet him.

If it was any other time, he would have rushed back to her, but now all his thoughts were occupied with his father and newfound enemy Jolthar.

As he was thinking, suddenly he felt a presence.

He turned to his right, where he saw a man on horseback, and another horse was accompanying it with no rider.

They were coming towards him.

Myron stood and put his guard up.

The man seemed to be in his late twenties, clean-shaven, with black hair and a dark liner under his eyes. He stopped before Myron and said with a big smile on his face, ”Hello, little brother.”