Julian laughed and pushed the door open.
The chatter stopped the moment he stepped inside, the air turning heavy with tension and heat. The hall was packed with women—some dressed in elegant, modest clothing, while many flaunted their curves openly.
Eyes turned to him. Curious. Hungry.
Their perfumes mingled with the chilling night air, creating an intoxicating atmosphere. Needy bodies pressed close to one another, all vying for his attention, his glance.
Some of the bolder ones slowly tugged at their necklines, deliberately lowering them to offer him tantalizing glimpses of what lay under. Others pulled their skirts just high enough to reveal smooth, oiled thighs, glimmering under the torchlight.
Look at me...
Every gaze that landed on him carried heat and anticipation. It was the hunger of women who had waited too long, of bodies burdened by the village's dark curse, and now finally they were offered a taste of freedom.
They devoured him openly.
Kain stepped in behind him, his jaw tightening slightly at the intensity in the air. Even he was taken aback. Beside him, Annie followed, slower than usual. Her breath froze the moment she crossed the threshold.
Unlike Kain, who had prepared himself for this day, Annie had only pretended to be ready.
Her eyes darted nervously across the room.
She could see it clearly now—how raw the desire was. And worst of all, every single one of those burning gazes was fixed not on her husband Kain, not on the other men, but solely on Rael—her son.
He stood calm and proud, dressed simply and nothing out of ordinary. And yet, his presence seemed to demand attention by mere existence. And they gave it. Mothers, daughters, widows—every woman in that hall regarded him as if he were not flesh and blood but rather the incarnation of desire.
And Annie—Annie felt the stirrings of shameful heat within her.
How could she not?
She had already glimpsed the fire he carried, the way he looked at her not as a son but as a man who wanted. He had already crossed that line once, testing her resolve in the garden. The memory of his hand at her waist, his voice deep and unrelenting, still haunted her. The way he had leaned close and said words no son should say to his own mo—no, I won't think about it. I can't.
But here she was.
Trapped in a room full of women all seemingly ready to fall to their knees for her son. It flipped something strange inside her. Anger, maybe. Or jealousy.
But underneath it all was something far worse—temptation.
She had told herself again and again: she was a mother first, a woman second. That blood and duty mattered more than fleeting desire. But Rael's presence defied all that. It...it unsettled her. As if he were not Rael but someone else... someone magnetic.
But no.
She bit her lip, hard.
No matter what thoughts played in the shadows of her mind, no matter what her body dared to crave, she would not be one of them. She was his mother.
And there was no longing, no ache, no curse that could undo that bond.
"Oh, you've finally arrived," an elderly voice rang out, soft and trembling with age.
Julian turned towards her and instantly recognized the woman. Age had caught up to her, leaving wrinkles here and there, but none of them softened the commanding presence she carried.
The village head's wife.
He remembered her from the first day, standing proudly beside the aging village chief.
Kain bowed respectfully. "Yes, aunty," he said with a small smile.
It was how he had always addressed her—like many of the other children growing up in the village. She had been a mother figure to them all. (other children, as in other people of similar age to Kain who grew up with her)
"Good," she said simply, before turning her attention to the group.
Waking to the front of the hall, she stood before them, and began.
"As you all know, my husband, the head of this village, has grown old," she said, her voice carrying throughout the hall. "His body is frail, and his health has been declining for years now. It is with regret that he cannot be here in person to witness this sacred event."
A wave of murmur filled the room, but no one dared to speak.
"But," she continued, "he has given me full authority to oversee the test in his place. He guided me and entrusted me with the responsibility to ensure that the curse, long passed down through generations, is finally broken."
She paused, letting her words settle.
"We have four men left in our village," she spoke. "And they are our final lifeline. The last seeds of our future."
Everyone nodded in agreement. This really was their final chance to turn things around.
The head's wife stepped forward, her eyes scanning the men until they landed on one.
"The first," she began, pointing towards him, "is Kain."
And just like that, the hall was overwhelmed with murmurs and gossip.
"Kain, hmm… he's always been the strongest of the bunch," one woman whispered, her eyes roaming over his body.
"Strong, yes," another added with a sly smile, "but is he... big where it matters?"
That drew a giggle from a few women nearby.
"I remember when he used to bathe near the river," an older woman joined in. "The man never bothered to hide himself."
"Oh, I remember that," another joined in, voice laced with mischief. "He stood there like he owned the damn river. Thick as a tree trunk, too."
More hushed laughter followed.
One younger woman leaned in close to her friend and whispered, "If I end up on my knees before him tonight, I won't complain."
The other smirked. "Knees? I'll ride him until he forgets his own name."
Someone else huffed. "Well, I've already prayed to the gods. If luck's on my side, I'll be the one to bear his seed tonight."