The Starlance hovered at the edge of the Ethereal Plane, its starfire runes flickering as the crew prepared for the jump to the Vortex of Eternity, a realm where time collapsed into a chaotic singularity. The bridge pulsed with restless energy, the sensors tracking the Starheart's fading pulse. King Zevryn Thaloryn stood at the helm, his white hair tied back, his violet eyes shadowed by a storm of tension—Gavren's poisoned death, the cumrobber's ritual, and the shadow clone, a dark mirror of himself, weighed heavily on him. His obsidian armor gleamed, his silver tattoos pulsing with starfire, a testament to his dual kingship over Aeltharion and Varenthia—and his burdened lineage as a Lord of the Blood, now facing his own fractured reflection. Solaris's remnant ships had retreated after a skirmish, their threats of vengeance a persistent hum in his mind.Lysara Veyne stood beside him, her shadowweave armor shimmering, her dark hair framing her sharp face, her amber eyes sensing his unrest. "The Vortex will amplify the Starheart—and the clone," she said, her voice low, their bond a steady anchor amid the chaos. "You're unraveling, Zevryn. You need release." His jaw tightened, his starfire flaring, his tattoos glowing. "We'll crush them," he growled, his voice a kingly command, but the tension coiled tighter, his royal dick—more veiny, an extra inch longer—throbbing with a desperate need beneath his armor.Selene Mirath, her golden hair loose, her starry eyes wide with unease, adjusted the sensors. "The Vortex is a singularity," she reported, her voice urgent. "Time converges—rifts will peak. Solaris is regrouping; they'll strike if we delay." Zevryn's political intelligence assessed the stakes, the clone a personal betrayal, Solaris a political wildfire. "Jump when ready," he ordered, his voice firm. "Tharion, arm the riders."The pressure overwhelmed Zevryn, his starfire flickering with agitation. He retreated to his quarters, the chamber a fortress of obsidian and starlight, its walls etched with runes, the bed a wide expanse of silks. Alone, the weight of the shadow clone, his brother's betrayal as the cumrobber, and the Starheart's threat pressed down, his royal dick pulsing painfully. He shed his armor, his muscular frame tense, his tattoos glowing faintly as he sat, bending forward with a warrior's flexibility, his lips brushing the head of his veiny cock. He licked the dickhead, tasting his own salty pre-cum, a low moan escaping as he sucked, his tongue swirling, his hand stroking the shaft, the act a desperate bid to release the tension.The door hissed open, revealing Princess Seris Vorn, a 19-year-old golden-haired diplomat from Aeltharion, who had arrived for negotiations. Her eyes widened at the sight, but a shy smile curved her lips. "My king," she whispered, stepping closer, her silken dress clinging to her slender frame. Zevryn paused, his violet eyes meeting hers, a new desire sparking. "Join me," he rasped, pulling back from his self-sucking, his cock throbbing with need. Seris nodded eagerly, shedding her dress, her body yielding as he guided her to the bed.He positioned her on her knees, her ass raised, his royal dick—thick, veiny, an extra inch longer—standing ready. He spat on her tight hole, massaging it with his fingers, easing her open as she moaned softly, her body relaxing into his touch. "Yes, my king," she gasped, and Zevryn pressed in slowly, the size stretching her, but her breaths turned to sighs of pleasure as he filled her, the sensation mutual and intense. He thrust gently at first, then deeper, each movement met with Seris's eager moans, her ass clenching around him, the rhythm building a shared ecstasy. The act was consensual and enjoyable, her golden hair swaying as she pushed back, their connection a release of his tension, his starfire flaring with passion, his tattoos glowing. After several minutes of synchronized pleasure, Zevryn's control slipped, his cum erupting inside her, a hot rush that drew a cry of delight from Seris, her body trembling with her own climax. He pulled out, both panting, her ass red but satisfied, their shared release a moment of mutual pleasure.Lysara, who had entered silently, stepped forward, her amber eyes warm with desire, her shadowweave armor shed, her curves bare. "My turn," she purred, lying back on the bed, spreading her legs. Zevryn, still flushed from Seris, nodded, his fingers sliding into Lysara's wet heat, probing deeply with a skilled rhythm. His thumb circled her clit, his fingers curling to hit her G-spot, her moans filling the room as her shadow magic flared, intertwining with his starfire. He worked her relentlessly, his touch firm yet tender, her body arching, her breaths hitching. "Zevryn!" she cried, her climax hitting hard, her cum gushing, hot and sweet. Zevryn leaned down, drinking it eagerly, the taste a mix of magic and desire, his starfire dimming as the act sealed their bond.Seris watched, her cheeks flushed, and left to recover, her role in negotiations strengthened. Lysara rose, her amber eyes fierce with satisfaction. "Now you're ready," she said, her voice a sultry growl. Zevryn nodded, his violet eyes clear, the tension eased, their partnership reaffirmed. "Always with you," he rasped, dressing.Back on the bridge, Zevryn's demeanor was steely, Lysara's shadow magic brushing him with warmth. The Starlance jumped to the Vortex of Eternity, its hull shuddering as time collapsed, the viewport a blur of infinite moments—past joys, future battles, all converging. The Nexus Core, a swirling maelstrom of energy, loomed ahead, the Starheart's power a blinding pulse, guarded by Noctarys elites, Solaris deserters, and the shadow clone, its dark starfire crackling.Zevryn led the assault, his dragon riders—commanded by Tharion, his celestial dragon roaring—diving through the vortex, their scales shimmering against the chaotic light. "For Aeltharion and Varenthia!" Zevryn roared, his starfire sword igniting, his tattoos blazing as he leaped into the fray, his blade slashing through an elite's armor, blood spraying, the man's scream swallowed by the vortex's howl. Lysara's shadow magic struck alongside, tendrils crushing a deserter's weapon, snapping his neck, blood pooling as she moved with lethal grace, her amber eyes locked on the core.The shadow clone awaited Zevryn, its violet eyes a mirror of his own, its dark starfire sword raised. "Your pleasure won't stop me," it sneered, its voice a twisted echo, their blades clashing in a storm of light and darkness, the vortex amplifying their power. The clone slashed Zevryn's leg, blood dripping, the wound burning with dark energy, but Zevryn retaliated, his starfire burning through the clone's chest, its scream a distorted howl.Mira stood at the core, her ash-blonde hair wild, her green eyes wide, the Starheart pulsing, Kaelith and the cumrobber—Zevryn's brother—beside her. The brother's scarred face glared, the Starheart flaring as a rift opened, pulling them through, the clone following, the portal snapping shut, leaving a temporal scar. Zevryn cursed, his starfire flaring, his tattoos glowing as the core destabilized, forcing a retreat. He and Lysara leaped onto Tharion's dragon, the beast soaring through the vortex as the core imploded. The Starlance caught them, its shields straining.Selene reported, "The rift leads to the Chronos Expanse—shattered timelines." Zevryn's political mind raced, his brother's betrayal a fresh wound, the clone a growing threat, his release a fleeting peace. "We follow," he growled, Lysara's shadow magic flaring, their partnership a beacon in the betrayal arc's deepening chaos.
