Nothing ventured, nothing gained...

Aslan harnessed the ancient artifact's fallen divinity, it throbbed against his own pulse, the most subtle of violet glints attracts Reya's emerald eyes down to her son's left hand, the sharp crack of his knuckles lit a fire deep in the neglected milf's womb.

"Actually, Mom… I’ve been thinking about you," he murmured, his voice a low, velvety purr that sent an involuntary shiver down her spine.

Reya blinked, her lips parting in surprise. "Oh? About what?"

The young man didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he closed the distance between them, his fingers brushing against the curve of her waist, lingering just a second too long—testing, teasing. The ring pulsed, its energy coiling around her like an invisible serpent, sinking into her skin, her thoughts.

"You look tense," he murmured, his other hand rising to her shoulder, fingers kneading into the tight muscles there. "Let me give you a massage."