Chapter 4: Mother’s First Sin

Sunlight sliced through the narrow gaps in the boarded windows, casting long bars across the rumpled king bed. Elena woke with the full weight of last night’s unconscious grinding still burning in her blood. Her body remembered every slow roll of her hips against her son’s trapped cock, the slick heat that had leaked from her even in sleep. She sat up sharply, nightgown twisted around her waist, and found Marcus already awake, propped on one elbow, watching her with dark, unblinking eyes.

The others were still asleep—Sophia curled in the loft, Liam on the far edge of the mattress. Elena’s pulse hammered as she slipped from the sheets and padded barefoot into the kitchen area, the rough floorboards cool under her soles. Marcus followed without a word, closing the thin plank door behind them. The small space felt even smaller, the wood stove still radiating faint warmth from last night’s fire.

She turned to face him, arms crossed beneath her heavy breasts, the thin fabric doing nothing to hide how her nipples had stiffened at the mere sight of him. “I know what I did,” she whispered, voice raw. “I felt myself ... moving against you. In my sleep. Again.” Tears welled, hot and sudden. “Marcus, I’m your mother. This is sick. The old world would call it monstrous.”

He stepped closer, close enough that she could smell the clean sweat on his skin from yesterday’s labor. “And what would the old world say about the way the Veil is twisting us? The way I’ve been hard for days just from the sound of your breathing?” His hand lifted, not quite touching her cheek. “Mom ... Elena. I’ve tried to fight it. Every single night I’ve lain there telling myself it’s wrong. But last night, when you pressed back against me, I felt you. Wet. Needing. And the Link—whatever the hell that mist is doing—let me feel how much you wanted it too.”

She shook her head, but her thighs pressed together anyway, a fresh rush of slickness coating her folds. “We talked about survival. Repopulation. I said the words, but I never thought it would be ... you. My own son inside me.” A broken laugh escaped her. “God, listen to me. I sound like I’m already halfway to begging.”