El gran dormitorio estaba impregnado de la tranquilidad de las horas previas al amanecer. Rose, ubicada entre Lyra y Seraphina, se despertó de un sueño inquieto. Un leve gemido escapó de sus labios mientras los restos de una pesadilla se aferraban a ella —una visión escalofriante de perder a sus amadas damas, de que su calor se desvanecía. Sus ojos se abrieron de golpe, se abrieron de par en par y se llenaron de lágrimas. El miedo era agudo, inmediato, superando su timidez habitual. En ese momento crudo y vulnerable, una profunda comprensión floreció en su corazón: ella realmente los amaba profundamente. Ella no podía simplemente dejar que lo hicieran todo; necesitaba corresponder, mostrarles lo mucho que significaban para ella.
Impulsada por esta determinación feroz y recién descubierta, Rose, todavía temblando levemente, se dio la vuelta. Con un coraje que contradecía su naturaleza tímida, envolvió a Lyra con sus brazos, acercándola, y luego le hizo lo mismo a Seraphina. Ella salpicó sus rostros con besos suaves, casi frenéticos— en sus mejillas, sus frentes, sus narices. Su pequeño y regordete cuerpo presionado contra el de ellos, una silenciosa súplica de tranquilidad, una audaz declaración de afecto.
Lyra y Seraphina, despertadas por el inesperado ataque de abrazos y besos, parpadearon despiertas, completamente sorprendidas. Sus miradas, habitualmente agudas e inteligentes, se suavizaron al contemplar el rostro sonrojado de Rose, sus ojos llorosos y la pura adoración que irradiaba de ella.
"Rosa, mi pequeña flor, ¿qué pasa?" Seraphina murmuró, con la voz cargada de preocupación, acariciando suavemente la espalda de Rose.
"Una mala pesadilla, mis damas", susurró Rose, con la voz todavía temblorosa. "Yo... No quiero perderte. Yo... ¡Los amo mucho a ambos!" Con un estallido de audacia inesperada, se movió y su suave cuerpo presionó más de cerca contra ellos. Comenzó a besarles los labios, primero los de Lyra, luego los de Seraphina, con una intensidad inocente que les dejó sin aliento. Puede que fuera torpe e inexperta, pero su amor puro y desbordante era innegable.
Lyra y Seraphina, completamente encantadas y profundamente conmovidas por su exhibición espontánea, la abrazaron con fuerza y le devolvieron los besos con igual fervor. Rose, exhausta pero feliz por su audaz declaración, pronto se derritió de nuevo en sus brazos, cayendo en un sueño tranquilo, acurrucada entre ellos.
As their bodies lay pressed against hers, something extraordinary happened. The delicate pink mark on Rose's forehead, usually faint, began to glow with a soft, ethereal light. A similar light pulsed from her chest. From these points, shimmering lines of energy extended, reaching out to Lyra and Seraphina. On Lyra's left hand and chest, and on Seraphina's right hand and chest, identical, intricate marks began to form, mirroring the one on Rose. It was as if an ancient, mystical bond, originating from a plane beyond their own world, was being sealed. The marks pulsed once, twice, then faded, leaving faint, beautiful designs etched onto their skin.
A moment later, Lyra and Seraphina blinked, suddenly wide awake. They felt an inexplicable connection, a direct link to Rose that went beyond mere touch or sight. They could feel her presence, her emotions, as if her soul resonated within their own. And, miraculously, they could communicate, thought to thought, a silent stream of understanding. It was a mysterious gift from Rose, something born from the depths of her being, offering protection and an unbreakable bond.
Their mothers, sensing a shift in the ambient magic of the estate, appeared shortly after, their expressions serious. Lady Asteria, with her wise white hair, and Lady Ember, with her perceptive red eyes, immediately noticed the new marks.
"These are soul-marks," Lady Asteria stated, her voice hushed with awe. "From the Holy Land. Very old magic."
"This confirms it," Lady Ember added, a rare look of astonishment on her face. "Rose is truly special. This bond… it is rare, and powerful." She looked at her daughters with pride, then with a hint of caution. "Guard this secret. For now, do not speak of it to anyone outside this room. Your grandmothers... they are progenitors from the Holy Land, and deeply powerful. They will need to know, in time, but only when you are strong enough to travel to the Central World, the core of the Holy Land. For now, keep your precious Rose safe."
Lyra and Seraphina, their minds now connected to Rose's in a way they never imagined, simply nodded. They looked at their sleeping Rose, then at each other, their hearts overflowing with a love that felt both ancient and brand new. They leaned in, kissing Rose on her forehead and rosy cheeks, their lips touching her skin with reverence. They were a trio, their souls now linked, inseparable. Though Rose was still timid, her newfound assertiveness with kisses delighted them, and they adored her all the more for it, never once crossing a boundary she didn't invite. They would always respect and cherish her.
The marks on their hands and chests hummed softly, a constant reminder of their bond. They discovered they could indeed communicate through them, soul to soul, even across distances, though it consumed a small amount of mana. For now, they only used it sparingly, savoring the mystery, focusing on the sheer joy of their new connection. This world, with its powerful empires, mystical races, and the ancient strength of the Holy Land, thrived in a delicate harmony. Its leaders, wise and strong, ensured peace, battling only minor threats that wouldn't disrupt the grand balance. Rose, their beautiful, regordeta Rose, was now an integral part of their powerful lineage, destined for greatness alongside them. They would continue to train her, to protect her, to love her fiercely, their lives intertwined in this beautiful, unexpected journey. Their love for Rose was a driving force that brought them unparalleled happiness.
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