The aftermath of the carrier's destruction didn't just leave a physical void in the ocean; it left a vacuum of power in the city. But inside the Estate, the world had shrunk to the size of a master suite.
Ren stood by the floor-to-ceiling window, the morning light catching the raw, corded muscle of his back. He wasn't wearing a shirt, only a pair of dark silk trousers. His Origin Pulse was finally beginning to settle, but the room still felt heavy, the air thick with the magnetic tension of four people who had just redefined their existence.
Clara, Serafina, and Viper were scattered across the massive bed, draped in the high-thread-count sheets like fallen blossoms. The silence was deep, broken only by the synchronized rhythm of their breathing.
"You can't just stand there forever, Ren," Serafina murmured. She sat up, the silk sheet sliding down to her waist. Her skin held a faint, golden luster that hadn't faded since the battle. She looked at him with a mix of exhaustion and a new, terrifyingly deep devotion. "The world is going to come knocking sooner than you think."
Ren turned. His eyes were still flinty, but the predatory edge had softened into something more possessive. "Let them knock. Today, the world doesn't exist."
He walked toward the bed, his footsteps silent on the obsidian floor. He stopped at the edge, looking down at the three women who had become his pillars.
Viper shifted, her violet eyes snapping open. She didn't look like a killer right now; she looked like a woman who had finally found the one thing she could never steal—peace. She reached out, her fingers tracing the scars on Ren's calf. "We need to adjust, Master. The energy you gave us... it's changing how we think. How we feel."
Ren didn't use words to respond. He reached out and grabbed Clara's hand, pulling her from the center of the bed toward him. She gasped, her body moving with a light, enhanced grace as he slammed her gently but firmly onto the pillows at the head of the bed.
"Ren..." she whispered, her heart hammering against her ribs.
"Adjustment starts with grounding," Ren said, his voice a low, vibrating hum that made her entire body tingle.
He reached up, untying the silk robe he had thrown on earlier, letting it hit the floor. He didn't rush. He loomed over Clara, his hands pinning her wrists to the mattress. He was an "Overpowered" force of nature, and in this moment, he was focused entirely on her.
He began to explore every curve of her body with his mouth, starting at the hollow of her throat and working his way down. He moved with a deliberate, slow-burn intensity, his tongue tracing the lines of her collarbone and the swell of her breasts. Every touch was a claim; every kiss was a promise of protection.
Serafina and Viper didn't watch from the sidelines. The Pulse bound them all together.
Serafina crawled forward, her hands sliding over Ren's shoulders, her lips finding the nape of his neck. She shivered as the contact sent a jolt of raw energy through her. Viper moved to his side, her hands tracing the hard lines of his abs, her teeth grazing his skin in a playful, feral nip.
The room grew hot, the temperature rising as their combined auras began to resonate. Ren turned his attention to Serafina, grabbing her waist and hauling her underneath him as Clara draped herself over his back.
He explored Serafina with a different kind of hunger—a dominant, forceful passion that broke through her last remaining corporate defenses. He kissed her deeply, his hands mapping the elegant curve of her hips and the long line of her legs.
"You think you're in control," he murmured against her skin, his voice sending a wave of heat through her core. "But in this bed, you only have one directive."
"To belong to you," Serafina gasped, her fingers digging into his arms.
Finally, he turned to Viper. The assassin didn't want gentleness. She wanted the storm. Ren met her energy with a raw, physical power, slamming her into the mattress and meeting her fierce gaze with his own glowing amber eyes. He moved over her with the same predatory grace he used in the field, his mouth leaving a trail of fire across her skin.
The intimacy was hardcore, a physical manifestation of the power they had shared in battle. It wasn't just about pleasure; it was about Ren reinforcing the bond, making sure his energy was woven into their very DNA. He was the anchor, and they were the ships caught in his wake.
By the time the sun reached its zenith, the room was a portrait of total surrender. They lay together, a singular entity of flesh and power.
For the next few weeks, the Estate became a laboratory of the soul. They ate together, trained together, and spent hours in the master suite, learning the nuances of their shared Pulse.
Clara learned to manage the company remotely, her mind now capable of processing data at ten times the speed of a normal human.
Serafina used her underworld contacts to build a "black curtain" around the Estate, ensuring no one could see what was happening inside.
Viper became the house's silent ghost, a shadow that moved through the hallways, always watching, always ready.
But as the month drew to a close, Ren stood once more on the balcony, looking out at the horizon. He felt a shift in the global energy. The Syndicate had been quiet too long.
"They're coming," Clara said, walking up behind him and wrapping her arms around his waist. She felt different—fuller, more vibrant.
"I know," Ren said, turning to kiss her forehead. "But we aren't the same people they hunted a month ago."