The night had passed.
The royal chamber grew quiet in the pale violet dawn light that filtered through the high windows, turning the black roses on the walls into soft, dry silhouettes. The screaming-skull candelabras had burned low, their cold blue flames reduced to faint, dying embers that barely lit the room. The blackwood bed was a mess of dark crimson silk sheets soaked in thick layers of sticky white squirt, black nectar, and Ren's cum — every crease and fold glistening with the heavy, mixed fluids that had dripped and leaked throughout the night.
Ren woke first.
