The Domain of Constraint had long since crumbled behind them. Ren Zian stood in the private garden chambers of the Palace Realm, the ambient air heavy with the scent of wild blossoms and blooming flame-lilies—flowers only Lyra could summon. The recent battle had left him bruised but inwardly stronger. The Chaos Skill he unlocked—Memory Seal: Clarity—still pulsed faintly at his temple, guarding him from manipulation. Yet even with this clarity, his thoughts couldn't escape her.
Lyra.
She stood by the fountain, her golden hair cascading down her bare back like liquid fire. A robe hung loosely over her shoulders, slipping as if nature itself yielded to her divinity. The moonlight filtered through enchanted glass above, scattering reflections across her skin.
Ren walked forward, silent, his expression unreadable.
"You didn't say anything since we returned," Lyra murmured, not turning. "Is it because I was reckless during the fight?"
He stopped just behind her. "No. It's because I almost lost you."
She turned. Her eyes, the hue of blooming irises, trembled—full of something that neither divinity nor time could erase. Vulnerability.
"You weren't going to," she said softly.
"You were willing to take Darak Varn's curse onto yourself. Again. Without even telling me."
"I knew you'd stop me."
"I shouldn't have needed to."
Silence clung to the petals falling between them. Then Lyra stepped closer. Her hands gripped the front of his shirt, and she pressed her forehead against his chest.
"I hate it," she whispered. "When other partners appear. When I see their eyes on you. When you forget—forget that I was the first."
Ren's hands gripped her waist. "I never forgot."
Lyra looked up, expression blazing. "Then why do I feel like I'm losing you piece by piece?"
He didn't respond with words. His lips crashed into hers—fierce, possessive, as though sealing a promise forged in fire and memory. Her fingers dug into his shoulders, dragging him backward toward the garden bed of her summoned flowers. They fell together into a blanket of glowing petals, enchanted by her divine energy.
Ren's hand brushed across her collarbone, tugging the robe aside. Her breath hitched, but she didn't stop him. The silk slid off, revealing the curves he knew by touch and instinct. Lyra pulled him on top of her, nails running down his back, drawing red lines—not out of pain, but raw desire.
"You belong to me," she said.
His reply was a growl against her neck. "And you, to me."
Clothes fell away like illusions. The warm blossoms cushioned them, their glow intensifying with every breath, every kiss, every movement. Her hips arched into his, skin meeting skin in electric heat. No performance, no godly grace—just a woman claiming what she believed was hers, and a man who knew she had every right.
She whispered his name like a prayer, her legs tightening around his waist. Ren traced the runes etched into her spine—marks of her divine origin. But tonight, she wasn't a goddess. She was just Lyra. His Lyra. The one who had stood beside him when this all began.
They moved in rhythm—slow at first, then wilder as the bond rekindled through every stroke, every kiss laced with aching longing. Her breath came out in gasps, voice cracking as she said, "Don't stop. Not tonight. Make me remember."
He obeyed.
Time blured. The palace responded, sealing the chamber with an invisible barrier of privacy as Lyra cried out, her body arching into his again and again. Ren whispered to her—not godly praises, but quiet confessions, fragments of truth he never dared speak aloud.
"When I thought I lost you, I didn't care about the mission…"
"I can't lead this war without knowing you're with me…"
"You're not just the Goddess of Bloom. You're the reason I can still feel."
Their bodies moved harder, faster, until pleasure mixed with emotion and broke them both open. She clung to him as wave after wave overwhelmed them, her cries buried in his shoulder. When they finally stilled, slick with sweat and breathless, the flowers beneath them faded into stillness.
A faint hum began at Lyra's chest—the mark of her divine core reacting. A silver light bloomed betwen their hearts. The Chaos System flared to life.
[Chaos Skill Unlocked: "Thorns of Bloom – Binding Pact"]Passive: When Ren forms a full bond with the Goddess of Bloom, he gains the ability to create floral wards that bind both body and memory.Effect: Prevents betrayal or deceit by anyone bound by the ward. Can also heal wounds if Lyra is near.Status: ACTIVATED.
Lyra blinked. "Did… we just unlock a pact skill?"
Ren smirked slightly, brushing a lock of hair from her flushed face. "I think we did."
She collapsed against him, her cheek against his chest. "Don't ever make me feel replaced again."
"I won't," he said, pulling the robe around her again. "But I need you strong, Lyra. This war… it's just beginning. And the others—"
"They can stay. I don't care," she whispered. "Just don't let me fade from your heart."
"You never have."
As they lay together, skin still warm from the afterglow, Lyra glanced toward the glass dome. The moon had dimmed, replaced by an eerie violet glow at the horizon.
Ren followed her gaze.
"It's time for the next door."
Lyra nodded. "Then let's walk through it. Together."