Auctioned by the Gods: Rebirth of the Harem Emperor

They didn't return to the grand throne chambers.Saphira offered them suites high in one of the celestial spires — rooms that seemed carved from starlight itself, with long arching windows spilling silver across plush floors.

Lyra all but dragged Ren inside. The moment the door sealed, she collapsed against him. Her body trembled with a shudder that wasn't quite sobbing, but close.

Ren cradled the back of her head, tangling his fingers in those luminous strands. "It's over," he whispered into her hair. "The mirrors, the gods, the chains — it's all over. At least for now."

She let out a broken laugh. "You say that like peace ever stays for us."

"Then we'll steal it," he murmured. "Even if it's only here, tonight."

He didn't lead her to the wide bed draped in airy silks. Instead he sat on the couch near the window, pulling her onto his lap so she straddled him. Her robes pooled around her hips, baring long pale thighs that clenched when he touched them.

Their foreheads pressed together. For a long time, neither spoke. Just breathing, feeling the tremor fade from her shoulders, his own chest finally loosening after days of living on the edge of a blade.

Eventually she whispered, almost shy, "I thought I'd lost you in there. Not just to death — to yourself. I could hear you, Ren. Even from outside the mirror. The way you screamed."

He swallowed hard. "Because I almost believed him. Almost thought maybe power without love was safer."

Her hands rose to cup his face. Eyes shining wetly. "I don't ever want safe. I want you. Even if it means living with a hundred knives at our throats."

His throat worked. Then he kissed her — slow, aching, the kind of kiss that said all the words he couldn't shape. Her mouth opened under his, soft little gasps escaping as he explored her deeper.

When they parted, she laughed again. This time less broken, more breathless. "Later. If I let you take me now, we won't leave this room for days."

A knock interrupted them, sharp and imperious.Lyra scowled, pulling her robe tighter around herself. Ren answered with a glare that would've cowed lesser courtiers.

But the door opened anyway.Saphira didn't bother waiting for permission. Her violet eyes swept over them, one brow arching at the sight of Lyra perched intimately on Ren's lap.

"I see you're recovering in your own fashion."

Lyra flushed but didn't move. Ren's hands stayed on her hips, possessive.

"What now?" he asked, voice tight. "More trials? More mirrors?"

"No." Saphira entered fully, robes whispering across the floor. She held a thin crystalline tablet etched with glowing runes. "But you should be aware — news of what happened in Amara's hall has already spilled into neighboring realms. And your survival is… unsettling the balance."

Ren snorted. "Let them be unsettled."

"It's not that simple." Saphira handed him the tablet. Images rippled across its surface — projections of court gatherings, smoky underworld pits, even far-off mortal temples. Everywhere, someone was whispering his name.Not as the auctioned mortal.Not even as the pet of capricious gods.But as the man who broke the mirror of fate.

Lyra leaned over to see, her brow furrowing. "They're afraid of him."

"Yes." Saphira's lips twitched. "And that fear breeds opportunity… and danger. Already minor demon houses are sending feelers. Some to forge alliances. Some to measure how easily you bleed."

Ren set the tablet aside, jaw tightening. "Then let them come. I'm done dancing for gods alone."

"Good." Saphira's tone softened slightly. Her eyes lingered on the way Lyra's hand drifted across Ren's chest, tracing faint lines as if reminding herself he was still here. "Because you're going to need more than one goddess at your side to keep the Elder Conclave from deciding your existence is too disruptive."

Lyra's head snapped up. "What are you suggesting?"

"Nothing yet," Saphira said smoothly. "But there are dark tides stirring. Underworld lords speaking your name. A certain demon queen whose spies circle even my palaces. You've made yourself into a story, Ren Zian — and stories draw listeners."

She turned to leave. Paused in the doorway."Enjoy this quiet while it lasts. I suspect the next realm to test your defiance will not wait long."

Then she was gone.

Lyra sagged against him. "I hate her timing."

Ren chuckled, nuzzling her throat. "But she's right. We have tonight. Let tomorrow bring whatever demons it likes."

She shifted in his lap, hips rolling just enough to make him groan. Her smile turned sly. "Then maybe we shouldn't waste it."

His answering grin was feral. He stood in one smooth motion, sweeping her into his arms. She let out a small squeal, half-laugh, clutching at his neck as he carried her to the bed.

They didn't rush.Hands tracing lines down her back, lips mapping the curve of her shoulder, the hollow of her throat. She answered with sighs that turned into soft moans when his mouth found her pulse. Her thighs parted eagerly under his hand, hips lifting into every teasing brush of his fingers.

When he finally pressed into her, her gasp shattered into a broken little cry, her arms tightening around his shoulders.

"Don't let go," she breathed.

"Never."

Their bodies moved together in a slow, greedy rhythm. Not like the desperate coupling in the window alcove days before. This was deeper. Almost reverent. Each roll of his hips drew another trembling sound from her lips, each squeeze of her thighs kept him from pulling away.

He found her hand, lacing their fingers together above her head, pinning them into the pillows. Her eyes fluttered open, pupils blown wide.

"You're mine," he rasped, voice dark. "Even if the gods try to steal you a thousand times."

She shivered under him. "Yours. Always."

After, when sweat cooled on their skin and her heartbeat slowed under his cheek, Lyra stroked his hair back. "Promise me one thing."

He lifted his head. "Anything."

"When the next threat comes — and it will — don't face it thinking you have to protect me by pushing me away. I chose this. Chose you."

His throat tightened. Then he pressed a kiss into her palm. "Then stand with me. Even if we're both damned for it."

Her answering smile was small, luminous. "Especially then."

Outside their chamber windows, the stars wheeled on in silent witness. Somewhere far below, dark tides gathered — demon courts whispering, hungry underworld eyes turning toward the mortal who shattered divine mirrors.

But inside these rooms, for now, there was only warmth. Only trembling breath. Only two people learning that love, when shared between those willing to break for it, could be the fiercest weapon of all.