Reincarnated as a Healer : Why are my powers so filthy?-Chapter 24: dance again

Terya tossed him a waterskin, the leather slapping his chest, and leaned against the wall, her arms crossed under her chest, accentuating her curves.

"So," she said, her voice low and teasing, "let's see if you can make that wind dance again."

Leon caught the waterskin, his eyes widening. "Now?" he said, his voice cracking. "I mean, I don't think I can do it without—"

He stopped, his face flushing as he remembered the ritual, her body against his, the surge of magic fueled by arousal.

Terya's laugh was soft, mischievous, and she stepped closer, her hip brushing his.

"Yeah, yeah," she said, interrupting, her green eyes glinting. "You're cute when you fumble, but you're a whole lot cuter when you're focused."

Her voice dropped to a sultry whisper, her breath hot against his ear. "So let's get you focused."

She pressed herself against him, her hips grinding slow and deliberate against his crotch, the friction sending a jolt through him.

Leon gasped, his eyes wide, his hands hovering awkwardly until she grabbed them, placing them on her hips, then lower, her leather pants warm under his fingers.

Her body heat surged through him, a current that sparked his magic, his arousal igniting like a flame.

She licked the side of his neck, her tongue slow and teasing, leaving a trail of warmth that made him shiver.

"Relax," she murmured, her lips brushing his skin. "You're not gonna break."

Leon's hands trembled, his fingers digging into her hips, the sensation overwhelming.

"Terya, I..." he stammered, his voice a desperate whine.

Her grinding intensified, the pressure building, and his magic stirred, the airy pulse of their bond growing stronger.

"Feel the current," she said, her voice low and commanding. "Breathe. Don't think about my ass—think about slicing the wind."

He swallowed hard, a nervous laugh escaping.

"Right. Not thinking about your ass. Not at all." His voice was shaky, but he closed his eyes, focusing on the cool, breezy sensation in his chest, picturing a sharp arc of wind.

Terya's hands roamed his chest, her nails grazing his skin through his tunic, keeping his arousal—and his magic—simmering.

"Good," she said, her lips brushing his ear. "Now let it out."

Leon thrust his hand forward, his fingers trembling, and a sharp arc of wind sliced through the air, cutting a hanging ivy vine in half.

The leaves fluttered to the floor, and his mouth fell open.

"Holy shit," he said, his voice a mix of awe and disbelief.

Terya grinned, stepping back, her hips no longer pressed against him but her smirk as teasing as ever.

"Told you," she said, her voice warm. "All you needed was a little wind beneath your wings."

She leaned in, pecking his cheek, her lips soft and fleeting, then whispered, "And a little ass on your hips."

Leon's face burned, his grin wide and goofy.

"You're gonna kill me," he said, half-laughing, his heart still racing.

The wind magic felt real, tangible, a new tool alongside his fire and healing.

He wasn't the bumbling gamer anymore—he was a healer, a fighter, a hero in training.

The chapel door creaked, and Saria's voice cut through the moment.

"Enough flirting," she said, her tone flat but her eyes flicking between them with a hint of amusement.

"Leon, the wounded are waiting. Terya, help Boren with the militia."

Terya saluted lazily, her smirk unwavering. "Yes, ma'am," she said, winking at Leon before sauntering out.

Leon stood, adjusting his tunic, his face still flushed but his resolve firm.

"I'm on it," he said, meeting Saria's gaze.

The weight of his role—healer, hero, hope for Eldwood—settled on his shoulders, but it didn't crush him.

Not anymore.

With Saria's trust, Terya's teasing, and the magic pulsing in his chest, he was ready to heal, to fight, and to face Vraxus had in store.