Rhiannan narrowed her eyes at the flickering map as Sasha, the snarkiest AI ever to grace a starship turned sorcery hub, projected moving red clusters along the borders of the new kingdom.
"These aren't random monster sightings," Reyna said, pushing her glasses up her nose. "They're summoning points. The Forgotten Sovereign isn't just trying to win the Trials. He's opening conduits."
Mother Tazzhra let out a hiss, forked tongue flicking.
"Which means he's feeding. The veil's thinning."
"And he's using the Trials as a fucking buffet," Kazra spat, fire trailing from her fingertips. "If even one contestant cracks under pressure or gets marked..he siphons their soul."
Reyna unfurled a scroll older than sin, with ink that shimmered in pain.
"The gate beneath the Bone Forest isn't just a tomb. It's a seal. One of three across the realms. If he breaks them all..."
"He gets back what the gods took from him," Rhiannan finished, her voice soft but laced with fury.
"His name," Elisha murmured. "His real one."
Sasha piped in.
"FYI, once a true name is spoken three times in the correct circle, it grants him full form in this realm. And no, we don't know what the 'correct circle' is. That info died with a divine librarian who choked on a holy jellybean in 2,100 B.M."
Barrik slammed a rune laced fist on the table.
"We need to double the shield wards around the maze. I'll start enchanting new lines with explosive failsafes."
"And we need to test every remaining contestant," said Zaiya. "Blood, magic signature, divinations...anything off, they're out."
Reyna nodded. "And I can map residual divine energy to track tampering attempts."
Kazra leaned back, eyes glowing with mischief.
"I say we start prepping the Trials of Flame early. Let the Sovereign see what real wrath looks like."
Zaiya's eyes kept flicking toward her two new mates...still respectfully kneeling but clearly twitching to get closer.
"This is not the time to fall in love," she muttered.
"You don't fall," Rhiannan said gently. "You leap. And they catch you."
Zaiya scowled but her lightning pulsed brighter.
"Fine. One night. One kiss. But if they slow me down, I cut off their dicks."
The lion shifter smirked. "They grow back."
"Good. Then I'll cut them off twice." Zaiya snapped.
Rhiannan rose, her aura crackling, eyes glowing violet with divine fire.
"We are not waiting anymore. Reinforce every perimeter. Test everyone. Triple check the Trials. Any hint of sabotage gets a blade through the throat."
She turned to her people.
"We are not losing anyone else."
"And if the Sovereign wants his throne back..." she snarled, "then he better be ready to fight the fucking goddess who sits on it now."
Sasha, ever the dramatic bitch, triggered a massive DRUM BOOM sound effect across the war room.
Zaiya Bloodrage didn't flinch easily. Not during war. Not during death. And sure as hell not when two massive, mate-marked strangers kicked in the doors of her private quarters.
But as soon as the first one stepped forward, her lightning flared...not in warning, but recognition.
"Fuck," she muttered, voice low. "Of course they'd be hot."
The first male, a Sun Elf warlock, radiated solar fire and arcane energy. His golden skin shimmered as tattoos moved...literally moved...across his arms like living spells. His eyes burned like twin stars, unreadable and eternal.
The second was a lion shifter, towering in black obsidian armor that flexed over corded muscle. His blood red eyes were locked on her like she was prey, and he hadn't eaten in centuries.
"Zaiya Bloodrage," the warlock said, his voice dripping with heat and command. "You are ours."
The lion shifter bared his teeth. "We've hunted across time. Through blood and war. And we finally found you."
"You think I belong to anyone?" she snapped, lightning crackling at her fingertips.
"No," the lion said. "We belong to you."
There was no slow burn. No hesitation. They were all fire and teeth and raw, ancient hunger.
Zaiya didn't break easily, but when the warlock kissed her, her knees damn near buckled. His lips were molten silk, his magic buzzing through her tongue.
The lion stepped behind her, fangs dragging down her throat as he pulled her tight against his chest.
"Let us worship the war goddess," he growled. "Let us serve."
They tore off her clothes like paper, reverent, desperate, and she returned the favor, growling when she saw the thick lines of muscle, the glowing magic, the claw marks and battle scars.
"You've both got the body count," she murmured, fingers teasing the lion's abs. "But do you have the stamina?"
"Test us," the warlock said, already sinking to his knees before her.
She writhed under them.
The warlock's mouth was between her thighs, glowing runes dancing across his tongue as he licked and fucked her with pure arcane heat. Her cries echoed through the chamber, cut off only when the lion bent her over and slid inside her, deep, slow, unrelenting.
Her hands clawed at the sheets. The walls. The lion's back. Lightning cracked overhead, singing the edges of the room.
When the warlock rose and slid into her mouth, it was over. They moved in sync, one behind, one in front, Zaiya trembling as they took her in a rhythm older than the stars.
She screamed her orgasm into the elf's chest as the lion roared against her neck, spilling heat inside her.
And then they kept going.
Because she could take it. And they were made to give it.
Hours later, tangled in golden sheets and sweat-slick skin, Zaiya lay back, limbs loose, throat raw, eyes half lidded.
The warlock kissed her hand and murmured, "We were born to stand at your side."
The lion curled around her like a beast guarding treasure. "You are the storm. We are the fire and the fang. Together, we end this war."
Zaiya smiled lazily.
"You boys better have recovery potions," she muttered. "Because I'm gonna break you again tomorrow."
The sun had barely kissed the sky when Zaiya stirred, her limbs tangled between warmth and muscle.
One arm was draped across her hip...rough and calloused, the hand large enough to palm her entire ass like it belonged there. The other held her wrist gently, runed fingers tracing the beat of her pulse. Even now, their energies wrapped around her like silk and flame, equal parts reverence and hunger.
She blinked the sleep from her lashes and turned her head to find the lion-shifter watching her with dark crimson eyes that glowed faintly in the shadows. His lips curled into a smirk.
"Morning, Goddess of Ruin," he purred.
Behind her, the Sun Elf chuckled, his voice smooth like molten gold. "You purred in your sleep."
Zaiya stretched like the wildcat she was, every inch of her bare body unapologetically on display. "I dreamt of devouring kingdoms."
"Let's start smaller," the lion murmured, lowering his face to the back of her neck. He inhaled deeply, and she shivered. "Like breakfast. You."
The warlock's hand slid down her arm, fingertips sparking with gentle warmth as his lips brushed her shoulder. "You should know, Zaiya Bloodrage, we don't do casual."
"Neither do I," she breathed, already breathless.
The three sat up slowly, letting tangled limbs fall apart only long enough to shift into a new position...Zaiya now straddling the lion shifter's lap, her bare thighs spread wide over his muscled legs. His thick fingers dug into her hips while the Sun Elf moved behind her, pressing his lips to her spine, whispering ancient words that sent a tremor through the air.
"Talk to me," she murmured.
The lion grinned. "I'm Kael. General. Born in blood. Trained to fight, not love... until now."
Behind her, the warlock added softly, "I'm Thalor. Sun blessed. Runeborn. I saw you in a vision ten years ago. Didn't think you were real."
Zaiya's laugh was deep and wicked. "I'm very real."
Kael's lips found her throat as Thalor's hands slid up her waist. "Then let us worship reality," he whispered.
And worship they did.
Every brush of skin was reverent. Every kiss, every groan, every bite...a promise. Her thighs trembled around Kael's hips as he bucked up into her slowly, and Thalor's glowing fingers danced between them, teasing, stroking, lighting her up like wildfire beneath the surface.
No chaos. No war. Just this.
A private battlefield made of skin and breath and a kind of trust she hadn't dared believe she'd ever crave.