'Third point of view'
Flames surged.
The bone throne crumbled into ash.
The demoness shrieked as crimson fire spiraled around Sebastian, encasing him in a storm of light and smoke. The temperature in the chamber soared, and the torches on the walls flickered with fear.
Lyra's heart stopped.
He was standing.
Naked.
Powerful.
Eyes burning red with regained memory.
"Enough," Sebastian growled, his voice echoing like thunder. "This is my realm. You forget who made it bleed."
The demoness hissed, wings ablaze. "You're still weak."
"I was," he said coldly. "But your trials woke me."
With a flick of his hand, dark chains ripped free from the shadows and bound her wings mid-air. She screamed as the obsidian magic snapped around her, dragging her to her knees.
Ravyn gasped. "He's controlling the Forbidden Crown's power—without pain."
Astra's eyes glowed with awe. "He's… perfect."
Serena sobbed softly, her hands over her mouth. "He remembered us…"
Sebastian turned toward his women, his expression dark and unreadable.
Then his gaze landed on Lyra.
And the fire changed.
It burned gold.
"Come here," he said softly—but it wasn't a request.
It was a command.
Lyra stepped forward, trembling. Her heart thudded with every step she took. When she reached him, she hesitated.
"I thought I lost you," she whispered.
He cupped her chin, tilting her face up.
"You never let go of me. Not even in the dark."
Their lips met again—but this time, it was no illusion.
It was real.
His mouth devoured hers with hunger long denied. His hands slid around her waist, pressing her against his bare chest. She moaned into his kiss, the heat of his body igniting something primal inside her. His lips moved with brutal precision, biting, claiming, tasting.
Behind them, the others watched—each breathless.
Ravyn licked her lips, voice husky. "He's back."
Astra whispered, "The King of Flames."
Serena flushed deeply but didn't look away. "He's ours again."
Sebastian broke the kiss, but kept Lyra close. "You endured the trials. You bled for me. And now, I'll show you what your king remembers."
He turned toward the demoness, still bound and burning.
"Leave," he said. "While I still allow it."
She bared her teeth. "Foolish king. You think you've won?"
"I don't think," he said coldly. "I know."
With a surge of energy, he snapped his fingers—and the demoness shattered into dust, her scream echoing into silence.
The moment she vanished, the throne room shifted.
The walls expanded.
The floor morphed into smooth obsidian tile, veined with red. The ceiling bloomed with stars and shadows, like a sky made from his very soul.
A new throne rose behind him—crafted from obsidian and gold, with his sigil pulsing at its peak: a flaming crown between wings and swords.
He stepped back onto it, sitting like a god returned to his temple.
Then he looked at them—his women.
"All of you came for me," he said, voice a dark melody. "All of you bled for me."
He raised his hand, and their chains vanished. Their clothing shifted—transformed into silks and lace, leaving their skin kissed by magic, thighs bare, curves exposed.
His eyes roamed them slowly, devouring every inch.
"You are mine."
Ravyn smirked, stepping forward first. "Then take us."
Astra followed, eyes glowing with anticipation. "Show us your flame."
Serena knelt before him, hands clasped, lips trembling. "Let us serve you again."
But it was Lyra he pulled first.
He dragged her into his lap, her thighs straddling his. The throne sizzled beneath them as their heat collided. His hands roamed her body—squeezing her waist, sliding up to cup her breasts through the thin silk.
She gasped, arching against him.
"You've grown stronger," he murmured against her neck. "Bolder."
She nipped his jaw. "I almost lost you. I won't be timid anymore."
He chuckled—low and dark. "Then let's test that."
His fingers dipped lower, sliding beneath the silk at her hips.
She gasped.
Then moaned.
Her head fell back as his mouth trailed down her collarbone, lips marking her skin. His fingers teased her entrance—slow, maddening strokes that made her tremble.
The others circled the throne now, hands moving across their own bodies as they watched the king reclaim his prize.
Ravyn leaned in, licking Lyra's ear. "Sharing is caring."
Sebastian's gaze turned to her—burning. "You'll have your turn."
He returned his focus to Lyra, voice low. "But first… she bleeds for me. She burns for me. And tonight—she comes for me."
Lyra gasped as he lifted her, positioning her over his hardened length. She was dripping, breathless, her body begging.
"Say it," he commanded. "Say who you belong to."
She moaned his name. "Sebastian."
Louder.
"Sebastian!"
"Again."
"My king—Sebastian!"
And then he thrust into her.