Part 1 — She Comes With Blood on Her Boots
The sun had barely risen over Dunhollow when she arrived.
Lady Vexa of the Moonfang walked through the market like a thunderstorm in silk. Her cloak fluttered behind her like a shadow chasing fire. Every step was a silent demand. Her silver hair gleamed under the rising sun, her eyes burning like twin embers.
People cleared the street without being asked.
They felt her mood.
She entered The Rusted Fang without a word.
Behind the counter, the barkeep paled. "Milady—"
"Where is he?" Her voice was velvet and violence. "The masked noble."
The barkeep hesitated.
Vexa stepped forward. "I was inside him less than two nights ago. If he doesn't want the entire upper ring burned to cinders, I suggest you speak."
The barkeep trembled, then nodded toward the upstairs rooms.
"He's been renting the one with the barred windows."
She climbed the stairs without looking back.
Part 2 — Auren's Trap
Auren sat cross-legged in a chair by the window, shirtless, a single candle lit beside him. The moment she entered, he didn't look up.
"You came," he said.
"I should kill you."
"But you won't."
She slammed the door behind her.
"Who the hell are you, Reven?"
He finally met her eyes. "Someone who left a mark. I can feel it. You've thought of me every time you closed your eyes."
Vexa clenched her jaw.
He stood.
"You're angry because I did to you what you've always done to others. I made you kneel."
Her hand moved toward her dagger.
"And you loved it."
She froze.
Auren walked up to her—calm, barefoot, shirtless. A king without a crown.
"You want answers? Then take them."
He spread his arms.
Vexa stared, torn between lust and rage.
Then shoved him against the wall.
"You arrogant bastard," she hissed.
"I know," he whispered into her lips.
Then he kissed her.
Part 3 — Claiming the Wolf Again (NSFW)
This time, it wasn't sweet.
It was war.
Teeth clashed. Nails raked skin. Vexa shoved him down onto the bed, straddled him like a beast in heat. Her eyes were wild, her silver tail flicking behind her.
"You think you tamed me?" she growled.
"No," he said. "I'm still doing it."
He grabbed her wrists, twisted her beneath him, and pinned her down.
She gasped—half fury, half desire.
"I could break you."
"You could try."
Their clothes tore off in pieces. Skin met skin. Heat surged between them like lightning down a sword.
He took her hard. She bit his shoulder. He spanked her—once, then again. Her growls turned into breathless whimpers.
"You don't get to do this to me," she rasped.
"I already have."
He flipped her over, pulled her tail, made her scream.
When she came, it was violent.
Her claws gouged the bedpost. Her thighs trembled. Her breath hitched.
And then he slowed.
Whispered into her ear.
"Now… say it."
She didn't answer.
He thrust once more.
"Say it."
"…Yours."
Part 4 — The Chain Binds
When it ended, they lay tangled in the ruined sheets.
Vexa stared at the ceiling, cheeks flushed, chest rising and falling.
"…What did you do to me?"
"I reminded you," he said softly. "What it feels like to belong."
"I don't belong to anyone."
Auren rolled over and traced a glyph on her thigh—light shimmered in the shape of a crescent.
Her breath caught.
"What—"
"A token," he said. "You're not bound. Yet. But this mark…"
He leaned down, kissed her neck.
"It means you're mine, even if you don't want to admit it."
Vexa turned her face away—but didn't stop him.
"…I'll kill you one day."
"No, you won't."
She said nothing more.
Part 5 — The Tournament Is Announced
Later that day, in the public square, a royal herald stood atop a platform. His voice rang out across the crowd.
"By decree of the Imperial Throne, a Grand Tournament shall be held three moons hence in the capital of Vaelrath!"
Auren stood among the gathered citizens, hooded, listening.
"The prize: a noble title, a fortified estate, and the favor of Crown Princess Thalessia herself!"
Murmurs rippled through the crowd.
But the herald wasn't finished.
"Combatants must represent their own banners. Harem declarations are permitted under imperial revision law. Companions, wives, bonded concubines… may fight beside their sovereign!"
Auren's lips curled into a slow, dangerous smile.
Perfect.
This was the stage he needed.
Blood. Prestige. Politics.
And a reason to build his harem not just in the dark—but in public.
He walked away with his cloak billowing behind him.
Part 6 — The Wolf Stays
That night, Vexa returned.
No threats.
No anger.
Just silence.
She entered without knocking, arms folded.
"I want in."
Auren looked up from the small fire he'd built in the hearth.
"In?"
"The tournament."
"You fight for me?"
"No. I fight with you."
He raised a brow.
"And when it's over?"
She walked to him, lowered her voice.
"You help me reclaim what the Moonfangs lost. Lands. Power. Revenge."
He considered her offer.
"You'll serve. Sleep in my bed. Kill in my name."
She licked her lips.
"…And I'll break every woman who tries to take your heart."
Auren stepped close. "Then kneel."
She hesitated—
Then knelt.
Head bowed.
Not from submission.
But choice.
Part 7 — A Name in the Dark
Far to the east, in a forest monastery, a hooded seer gasped in her sleep.
Visions burned her eyes. Thrones of bone. Stars bleeding. A man standing above them all with a crown of shadows.
She screamed a name into the dark.
The acolytes gathered around her in fear.
"What did you see?" asked the high priest.
Her voice trembled.
"The Sovereign rises again."