Chapter 217: Five Hundred Feet Above Pegasus Citadel

Amid a storm of envious stares from the players below, the Mythic Mount Violet Thunderwing Steed swept into the sky in pursuit of the Cloud Mist Gale Steed. The two Pegasi climbed swiftly, cutting through the air until they were nearly five hundred feet above Pegasus Citadel, their wings flashing in the sunlight as they raced toward the eastern horizon.

“Ha! A Mythic Mount! Second on the leaderboard, the Violet Thunderwing Steed!” an Archer shouted, laughing so loudly that nearby players turned to look at him.

“Are you serious? They’re already halfway to the horizon and you’re just now figuring that out?” someone beside him scoffed.

The Archer snorted. “What do you know? I recorded the whole thing when they flew past. I’ll upload it to the forums in a minute. This post is definitely hitting the top ten.”

“Whoa, really? I didn’t get a good look at it. Let me see the recording.”

“Sure. Five gold coins per view.”

“You… Piece of shit!.”

The Archer ignored the complaints, already muttering to himself as he tried to think up a title catchy enough to guarantee attention.

Far above them, Marcus had no idea that yet again he was setting the Dominion forums ablaze. His appearance alone would send the value of flying mounts soaring, and for weeks to come players would be obsessed with obtaining wings of their own.

Moments earlier, he had watched Chloe rise into the air on her Cloud Mist Gale Steed, a pleased chuckle escaping him. Then he summoned his own mount, the Violet Thunderwing Steed, its violet-red wings unfurling with a powerful beat. Turning to Anya, he gave her a sideways smile that carried a hint of mischief.

“Anya, want to catch up with Chloe? The Violet Thunderwing can carry two.”

“Really? Marcus, let’s go. We can’t let her get away.” She reached for him without hesitation, her fingers wrapping around his hand as he pulled her toward the massive steed, excitement written plainly across her face.

Her hand was soft, almost startlingly so, and the light touch sent a flicker of warmth through him. A faint, clean fragrance rose from her skin, something delicate and intoxicating that left him briefly lightheaded. People liked to compare beautiful women to polished jade, flawless and luminous. Standing beside him now, Anya felt even more rare than that.

“You smell amazing,” he murmured, low enough that only she could hear.

Before she could respond, he steadied her by the waist and helped her onto the broad back of the Violet Thunderwing Steed. His hand fit naturally against the curve of her slender frame.

“Marcus, hurry. Chloe’s already high up there,” Anya urged, glancing skyward. Chloe had climbed nearly two hundred feet, her mount gliding with confident ease.

“Coming.”

Marcus vaulted up behind her in one smooth motion. Anya was tall and graceful, and when he settled into place, his body naturally curved around hers. His arms encircled her as he reached forward to take the reins, effectively drawing her into his embrace.

In her heart, Anya had long ago decided she belonged to him. Being this close did not feel improper or awkward to her. It felt right, as if she had finally stepped into a place she had always known was hers.

And yet, when his chest pressed firmly against her back, her pulse leapt. The warmth of him, the solid strength in his arms, the steady rhythm of his breathing, all of it washed over her at once. Even knowing that the man behind her was the one she loved, the sheer intensity of his presence made her feel faint.

’Marcus.’

She whispered his name silently in her thoughts as a blush spread across her cheeks. The sensation of him surrounding her was overwhelming, and she found herself leaning back into him without thinking, surrendering to the comfort of his hold.

She had waited four long years for this closeness. Four years of silence, regret, and unspoken longing. Now, with his hands at her waist and his body shielding her from the wind, it felt as if he had drawn her into a world that belonged only to the two of them.

“Go,” Marcus commanded.

The Violet Thunderwing Steed surged upward, powerful wings carving through the sky as it chased after Chloe.

“Don’t be afraid,” Marcus said softly near her ear. “He’s steady. The flight won’t be rough.”

He glanced down at her closed eyes and slightly tense expression, assuming she was nervous about the height. In truth, the sight of her leaning against him like that stirred something far less innocent in him, but he forced himself to speak gently instead.

“Mhm,” Anya answered, though fear was the last thing on her mind.

She was melting in his arms, painfully aware of how perfectly she fit there. When she finally opened her eyes and caught him looking at her with that small, knowing smile, her heart skipped. The intensity in his gaze made her suddenly shy. She straightened at once, easing herself forward and putting a little distance between them, avoiding his eyes.

The loss was immediate.

The warmth that had filled his arms vanished, replaced only by the faint trace of her fragrance lingering in the air. It was such a small movement, yet it struck him harder than he expected, stirring an old ache he had thought long buried.

Ahead of them, Chloe was having the time of her life. At first she had been nervous, fingers clenched tightly in the reins, but the Cloud Mist Gale Steed was exceptionally stable. Combined with her natural agility as a Pegasus Knight, she adapted quickly. Soon she was laughing freely, exhilarated by the endless stretch of blue sky around her.

When she glanced back and saw Marcus and Anya gaining on her, she waved.

“Marcus! Catch me if you can!”

With a sharp command, she urged her mount to greater speed. Though her Pegasus was not as fast as his, the class bonus narrowed the gap enough to make it a real chase.

Marcus barely heard her.

His attention was fixed on the graceful line of Anya’s back, on the way her hair lifted and fell with the wind. The small distance she had placed between them felt larger than the sky itself. Chloe’s challenge meant nothing to him, and he made no effort to accelerate. A restless heat spread through his chest, something tangled between anger and longing.

Anya, meanwhile, was filled with regret. She had wanted to remain in his arms, to let him feel her affection, to show him that the girl from four years ago was gone. But habit and shyness had won. Now she feared she had once again pushed him away.

’Anya.’

The name echoed in Marcus’s thoughts.

She had been his first love, the girl who received the only love letter he had ever written. Back then there had been no reply, no rejection, just silence that tasted bitter and unripe. He had forced himself to bury those feelings, convincing himself that he had imagined everything. Yet here she was again, sitting inches away, stirring emotions he had sworn were finished.

Looking at her now felt painfully familiar. Close enough to touch, yet somehow distant, as if she might dissolve into nothing if he reached out.

’Is this how it will always be?’ he wondered. ’Am I destined to watch her walk away, to see her back as she chooses someone else?’

A fierce, irrational anger flared in him.

’No. She is mine.’

The thought struck with such force that it seemed to shake him from the inside. The Human Rock technique within his body surged like a dam breaking, energy roaring through his veins and igniting every nerve.

“Anya.”

Her hair whipped against his face, strands brushing his lips and cheeks. The soft scent of her only made the heat inside him burn brighter. He reached forward, sweeping her hair aside, his voice low and thick with something that was no longer restrained.

When she instinctively turned her head at the sound of her name, he did not give her time to think. He closed the distance and captured her lips with his.

The kiss was not tentative. It was fierce, urgent, as if all the words they had never spoken were pouring into that single contact. Her breath carried a faint, orchid-like sweetness, and he tasted it as though committing it to memory. His hand tightened at her waist while the other abandoned the reins entirely, trusting the Violet Thunderwing to fly true on its own.

He drew her back against him until there was no space between them, his chest firm against her spine, his arms locking her securely in place. It was possessive, almost reckless, but he could not stop. Four years of restraint, resentment, longing, and desire surged together in one overwhelming tide.

From below, it must have looked like a scene pulled from legend. High above the world, atop a violet-red Pegasus cutting through the clouds, a knight held a beauty close and kissed her as though the sky itself belonged to them.

The Human Rock technique roared through him, amplifying every sensation. Part of him wanted to punish her for the old silence that had wounded him. Another part wanted only to protect her, to fold her into himself so completely that she could never slip away again.

“Marcus…”

Her voice was barely more than a breath, lost between their lips.

The suddenness of his boldness left her mind spinning, yet beneath the shock was a deep, overwhelming joy. This was what she had wanted, what she had secretly prayed for, even while fearing she had missed her chance.

He did not hear her clearly, only felt the soft sounds that escaped her as she clutched at his arm. To him, they were fuel on the fire, urging him to hold her tighter.

He did not know that the moment she had moved away earlier, she had regretted it. Being in his arms had been the perfect opportunity to confess everything without words, to end the quiet suffering she had endured for years. But she had hesitated, afraid he might still carry the pain of the past.

Why didn’t he pull me back? she had wondered. Why did he let me go?

Some small, hidden part of her had wished he would be more forceful, less careful, that he would prove she still belonged to him without asking.

And now, as his familiar scent enveloped her and his kiss claimed her without doubt or restraint, her heart pounded wildly with hope.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep