Auctioned by the Gods: Rebirth of the Harem Emperor

Ren awoke before Lyra.Dawn had barely kissed the spires of the Celestial Palace, painting their chamber windows with soft pink and gold. Her hair spilled across his chest like molten silver, one leg tangled with his, arm draped possessively over his ribs.

He lay there a while, simply feeling her slow breaths.After everything — the auction chains, Sariel's trembling hands, Aravielle's broken whispers in the trial, the monstrous Emperor version of himself — this was still what terrified him most.

How right it felt.How easily he could drown in her, forget that somewhere far below these velvet halls, realms plotted his downfall.

Lyra stirred with a sleepy hum. Her thigh shifted over him, pressing against where he was already half hard just from her warmth. She blinked up, lashes heavy, then offered him a small, knowing smile.

"Again?" she teased, voice still raspy from sleep.

"You say that like it's a surprise," he muttered, sliding his hand up her spine. She shivered, pressing closer.

Her lips brushed his. "Later. I want to pretend we're safe a little longer first."

So they lay there, foreheads touching, whispering about nothing. Tiny mundane things that almost hurt to speak of — which flowers might bloom in the palace gardens come summer, how many freckles scattered across her shoulders, whether the stars had truly seemed dimmer the night before or if that was just exhaustion.

Normal words. For once.

Eventually reality returned with a polite but insistent knock.Ren groaned, letting his head thump back against the pillow. "If that's another god come to test my resolve, I might actually kill them."

Lyra giggled, then smacked his chest lightly. "Try not to start divine wars before breakfast."

Saphira's steward entered when Ren gave a sharp command. The elf bowed so low his dark braids pooled on the marble. "Lord Ren. Lady Lyra. The Goddess Saphira requests your presence in her lesser court. Urgently."

Ren sighed. "Urgently always means something unpleasant."

"Shall I have baths drawn first?" the steward asked delicately, eyes flicking to where Lyra's robe had slipped off one shoulder, revealing faint marks Ren's teeth had left hours before.

Lyra smirked, unabashed. "Yes. And have something sweet sent up. I've earned it."

After they were bathed and dressed — Ren in dark tunics cut to flatter the lines of his shoulders, Lyra in flowing robes that left one leg scandalously bare — they followed the steward through winding halls. Everywhere they went, lesser spirits and celestial scribes tried (and mostly failed) not to stare.

"They're all whispering about you," Lyra murmured under her breath.

Ren grunted. "Let them. I'm more concerned about why Saphira's summoned us so early."

They found Saphira reclining in a smaller audience chamber. Unlike the grand throne hall, this space was intimate — scattered with low divans, heavy incense curling through the air. A single large table stood in the center, covered in maps inked on stretched serpent hide.

Saphira didn't look up immediately. She traced something across the map with one elegant fingertip, violet nails catching glints of lamplight. Only when Ren cleared his throat did she glance their way.

"Sit," she said. "Both of you."

They obeyed. Lyra nestled close to Ren's side, her hand slipping into his without thought. Saphira's sharp eyes didn't miss it.

"So," the goddess said coolly. "Last night your name crossed a border even I find… problematic."

Ren frowned. "Meaning?"

"The underworld courts are stirring. Minor demon princes have begun sending tokens to test your court's hospitality. Most are mere couriers — easily turned away. But one was cleverer. Slipped past wards using a changeling shape."

Lyra stiffened. "And?"

Saphira gestured. From behind a velvet curtain, two guards dragged a cowering figure into the room — a young demoness with pale gray skin, tiny black horns, and terrified eyes that flared with a faint violet glow.

"She tried to enter your personal chambers, carrying a spell laced with siphon runes. Had you been asleep without protections, it might have leeched secrets from your mind."

Ren stood so abruptly Lyra's hand fell away. He crossed to the girl in three strides, seizing her chin. "Who sent you?"

She whimpered. "Please… I was only told to carry the spell. I'm nothing, my lord. A shadow-bonded page. I was promised my family would be freed if I succeeded."

His jaw tightened. He could see the faint collar around her throat — a soul brand. Whoever commanded her held every breath she took.

Lyra appeared at his side, hand resting lightly on his arm. "She's not the real threat."

"I know." Ren's grip gentled. He released the girl, who collapsed sobbing.

Saphira's expression was unreadable. "This is only the beginning. The underworld will not send armies at first. They'll send whispers, poison cups, kisses that taste like bargains. Miraye herself is far too canny to step into the open without first ensuring you're not merely a mortal playing god."

"Miraye?" Ren repeated. The name curled unpleasantly along his spine. He remembered Saphira mentioning a demon queen before — powerful, cunning, her realm one of obsidian fortresses and rivers of molten glass.

Lyra's eyes darkened. "I've heard of her. Her bed has toppled more dynasties than any blade."

Ren let out a slow breath. "Then we prepare. I'll meet their whispers with truth. If Miraye wants to test my resolve, she can do it face to face."

"And when she tries to wrap you in her chains of silk?" Lyra's voice was sharp, betraying more jealousy than she likely intended.

Ren's mouth curved into something half tender, half wicked. "Then I'll remind her that I was forged in harsher chains — and broke them all."

Saphira looked briefly amused. "Confident words. Very well. I'll tighten the palace's defenses. But understand, Ren: this next game is not one of brute power. The underworld deals in temptation, illusions, debts woven into the heart. Be wary."

"I have Lyra," he said simply, drawing her close. "That's more anchor than any mortal deserves."

Lyra's cheeks colored, though her eyes sparkled fiercely.

After they were dismissed, they walked the quieter halls back to their suites. Lyra slipped her arm through his, head resting briefly against his shoulder.

"You really would stand in front of a demon queen and challenge her to try her best seductions on you?" she asked lightly, though her hand squeezed his arm almost possessively.

He grinned down at her. "Why not? I already have a goddess who's more dangerous than any demon could dream."

Her laugh was soft, but tinged with hunger. She pulled him to a halt, rising on her toes to press a slow, claiming kiss to his mouth right there in the corridor. When they parted, her voice was low.

"Good. Remember that when her hands are on your shoulders and her mouth whispers filth into your ear. Remember whose name you moaned first."

Ren's answering smile was pure dark promise. "I'll remember. And I'll make sure you're there to hear me say it again."

Outside the palace, storms gathered on the horizon.Somewhere far below, a demon queen leaned back on her throne of carved skulls, a sly smile curling her lips as she listened to the faint hum of spells that carried mortal names across realms.

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