POV: Ren
The air was still when I returned to my chamber. Not the quiet stillness of peace — but the dense, expectant kind that settles before a storm.
The flame in the corner glowed softly. My thoughts drifted back to Virelya's warm hands, Luneth's trembling breath, the way Nyxara had finally let herself unravel. All of them had waited. And I had answered.
But one remained.
And she would not wait any longer.
The door opened without a knock.
Astraea stepped in.
Her long silver hair, slightly tousled. Her amber eyes, burning.
The Confrontation
I rose to greet her, but she walked toward me before I could speak.
"You married me too, didn't you?"
Her voice was not bitter. It was calm — but too calm.
I nodded. "Yes."
"You stood before me and promised I was yours."
"You are."
"Then why was I the last?"
Her voice cracked slightly at the end, and my chest tightened.
She didn't scream. She didn't rage.
But that made it worse.
She had held it in. Waited. Watched.
And now she could no longer.
The Distance Between Us
"I've watched you," she said. "Watched you visit their chambers. Give them what they've waited for. What I waited for too."
"I didn't mean to leave you behind."
"But you did." Her fists clenched at her sides. "You touched them. Held them. Loved them. And you never came to me."
I looked down.
Because she was right.
"I don't want to be your forgotten bride, Ren," she said. "I'm not your mask. I'm not your title. I'm your wife. And I want the same things you gave them."
The Breaking Point
I stepped forward. Slowly.
She stood tall, despite the tears at the edge of her lashes.
I reached for her hands — and she let me.
"They needed comfort," I murmured. "I didn't think you did."
"Then you don't know how hard it was to watch you give it to everyone else first."
"I do now."
Silence fell between us.
Then, without another word, she pulled me down to kiss her.
The First Time He Gave Her Everything
It was not a slow kiss. It was not unsure. It was filled with months of longing, of held-back touches and silent nights. It burned.
Her fingers gripped my shirt, then slid it off. My hands slipped beneath the fabric of her dress, and she arched into me — not in submission, but in defiance of the loneliness she had endured.
When I lifted her into my arms and carried her to the bed, her legs wrapped around me.
She whispered, "Don't stop."
And I didn't.
I gave her what I had withheld — not just my body, but the words, the warmth, the gaze I'd given the others.
Her eyes never left mine.
Not once.
She clung to me when we moved together, her voice trembling as she said again and again, "Mine."
And I answered her, every time. "Yours."
After
Later, as she lay in my arms, her head resting beneath my chin, she finally exhaled.
"You never looked at me like that before," she said.
"I was afraid of what I'd feel."
"And now?"
I kissed the top of her head. "Now I'm glad you didn't let me run."
POV: Kaelira | Luneth | Astraea | Ren
Kaelira
The next morning, Kaelira watched from her chamber's balcony as soft sunlight stretched across the marble courtyards of the empire.
She could feel it in the air.
Something had shifted.
The flame in her chest—her pride, her jealousy, her protectiveness—had once burned brightest when she alone thought herself closest to him. But after they had all been touched, loved, claimed in truth, that flame had become a quiet ember of belonging.
And now, Astraea had received the same.
Kaelira didn't envy her.
She felt relief.
For the first time, the tension that had hung like smoke between them was gone. No more unspoken rivalry. No more wondering when Ren would choose her too.
Now, they were equals.
She smiled faintly and whispered, "Finally."
Luneth
Luneth sat beneath the mirrored dome of her library, ancient texts floating slowly around her.
The stars had told her something would change.
And it had.
She had always watched Astraea carefully — the girl who lived among them but never joined them. The only one who bore Ren's true name on her lips without hesitation. The only one who didn't kneel when he passed.
Luneth had once resented her for it.
But now?
She felt gratitude.
Astraea had endured something none of them could fully understand. And now, she was no longer pretending. No longer hiding behind a sister's title or biting down her pain.
Luneth closed her book and looked up at the stars above.
"This is how it was meant to be."
Astraea
Astraea walked through the halls of the empire with bare feet.
There was no mask on her face.
For the first time, she didn't have to fake distance. For the first time, she didn't need to pretend that she wasn't hurting. Or that she didn't love him the same way they did.
The servants bowed as she passed.
Some of the other goddesses' handmaidens offered her nods—not stiff, not cold, but acknowledging.
She found Virelya in one of the garden sanctuaries.
The goddess of life looked up from the soft vines she was weaving into a floral wreath and smiled.
"You look lighter," she said.
Astraea sat beside her.
"I am."
They didn't need to say more.
There were no more sides now.
Ren
I stood in the central hall, looking up at the stained glass dome—each panel depicting a different goddess, a different bond.
They all had my mark now.
Not just in name.
In truth.
Kaelira joined me first, slipping her fingers into mine. Selphira followed, resting a hand on my shoulder. Then Nyxara, her touch cool but no longer distant. Luneth stepped into place beside them. Virelya leaned against me with her usual warmth.
And then Astraea.
She came last.
But when she stood beside them, their eyes met—not as strangers, not as rivals, but as wives.
A circle finally complete.
End Scene: A Shared Beginning
That night, none of them returned alone to their chambers.
They dined together in the lantern-lit garden, seated around the table that had for so long only held five chairs.
Now, it held six.
They talked. Not about me. Not about the empire.
They spoke to each other.
Laughed.
Exchanged stories.
And when I looked at them — Astraea with her quiet stubbornness, Kaelira with her fire, Selphira with her grace, Nyxara with her veiled smiles, Luneth with her cosmic calm, Virelya with her affection — I realized something:
For the first time, they weren't just my wives.
They were each other's, too — not in name, but in bond.
This wasn't the end of longing.
This was the beginning of family.