The hidden corridor behind the mirror yielded to my touch, the glyph glowing faintly under my palm. A muted shimmer lit the spiral stairs as they descended into the quiet depths beneath my house—an underground sanctuary known only to me.
Not my empire. Not the divine throne room.
Just the foundation. A sealed, minimal base tucked into the bones of the earth. Yet even here, someone waited.
Elira.
She had no rank, no grandeur, no divine title—only a heart that beat a little too loud whenever I entered the room. A girl who once had nothing, and now, existed only for me.
The chamber lit softly as I stepped inside. A hush filled the room—peaceful, steady—until her eyes met mine.
She was curled on the couch, a light blanket draped loosely across her bare form, one shoulder exposed to the golden hue cast by the ceiling's low lights. She turned as I entered.
"Ren…" Her voice was quiet, breathless, already soaked in emotion.
I said nothing. I closed the door behind me with a faint click.
She stood, slowly, like she didn't want to break the silence, her eyes never leaving mine. There was no expectation in her gaze—only a desperate, aching hope.
"You rarely speak," she said softly, stepping closer, "but when you're here… I feel like I exist again."
Her hand found mine, hesitant but warm. She leaned in, just enough for her forehead to brush my shoulder.
"Will you stay with me tonight?"
"I will," I answered.
She didn't smile, didn't cry. She just nodded and led me to her bed, fingers loosely entwined with mine.
Her undressing was unhurried—deliberate. The blanket slipped from her shoulders first, followed by her loose top. Her body was soft, inviting, lit by the soft gold of the room. I reached out, fingers ghosting across her collarbone, tracing downward to her breast. I circled her nipple with my thumb and felt her breath catch.
I leaned forward, pressing a deep kiss against her lips, tasting her need. She answered immediately—hands pulling at my shirt, fingers working clumsily through the buttons. I let it fall, returning the gesture, until we stood bare before each other.
She fell back onto the bed, tugging me with her. My body settled between her thighs, and I felt her heat pressing against me. Wet. Needy. Ready.
I slid into her slowly, inch by inch, watching her eyes flutter closed, her body rising to meet mine.
Her arms locked around my waist as I began to move—long, steady thrusts that made her moan softly into the stillness. Her nails dug into my shoulders, her breath ragged with every motion. She whispered my name between sighs, a trembling mantra.
I lowered a hand between us, stroking her clit in slow, deliberate circles. Her moans rose, and I felt her walls tighten around me as her climax took her. She arched with a cry, trembling, her voice breaking.
That was enough to undo me.
With a low groan, I came inside her, burying myself to the hilt as my body shuddered. We stayed locked together like that for a moment—her breath against my neck, my hand cradling her back.
Eventually, we untangled, the sheets cooling beneath us. She pressed close, her face resting against my chest, her fingers idly tracing shapes over my ribs.
"You always vanish," she murmured, half-asleep. "But when you're here, I feel whole again… even if it's only for a night."
I said nothing.
She didn't need my words.
And I didn't offer lies.
As she slipped into slumber, her grip still firm on my wrist, I rose silently and walked to the far wall, gazing into the corridor beyond. Monitors blinked faintly, streams of data flowing through screens elsewhere in the base.
In my private empire—a dimension I had carved myself—new arrivals awaited. Thousands of women bought from the multiversal slave market. They now rested in stasis, organized, categorized. Their origins ranged from fallen worlds, ruined timelines, divine bloodlines, and extinct pantheons.
And soon, I would visit them. Study them. Assign them roles.
But not tonight.
Tonight, I remained in this quiet room—beside the only girl who didn't know my true nature, didn't kneel, didn't ask for a crown.
Elira only wanted presence.
And I gave it, briefly, like a passing season.
Above, the world continued as if nothing beneath it stirred. My parents still slept. The city still blinked.
No one suspected who I truly was.
And no one ever would.
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