The moment the pastor finally declared them officially married, the entire hall erupted.
Applause thundered from every direction, loud enough to drown out the music for a split second. Cheers followed, whistles cut through the air, and somewhere in the crowd, someone was very clearly sobbing way too hard for a grown adult. The room smelled like happiness, expensive perfume… and an alarming number of used tissues.
From the back of the hall, a familiar voice shouted,
"FINALLYYYY!"
Allen didn't even need to turn around.
"…That was Marcus," he muttered.
And yes—of course it was Marcus.
But suddenly, Lenny froze. His eyes widened as if he remembered something important.
"Wait—oh crap, I forgot!" he blurted out.
Everyone turned to look at him.
"You guys forgot the rings," Lenny added, pointing toward the side of the hall—where Greg was sitting casually, playing his PSP like he wasn't in the middle of a wedding.
"Greg! Where are the rings?!" Lenny yelled as he immediately rushed toward his son.
The entire hall burst into laughter. Even Allen couldn't help but sigh—it was partly his fault. Well, it's also because he forgot about it too.
Moments later, Lenny hurried back, holding the small ring box, and handed it to Allen.
"Here. Before we mess this up even more."
Allen chuckled, took the box, and opened it. Without wasting another second, he began placing the rings—carefully, sincerely—onto Raviel's finger first, then onto each of the other women's fingers, one by one.
The pastor cleared his throat, smiling tiredly.
"…Alright," he said, resetting himself. "Let's try that again."
He raised his voice.
"You may now kiss your brides."
Allen didn't hesitate.
He stepped forward, leaned in, and kissed them again—each of his nine wives—one by one, as the hall exploded again in cheers, laughter, and pure chaos.
And with every kiss, the crowd reacted differently, like the entire room was a live audience watching a movie.
When he kissed Hestia, a chorus of soft "aww~" spread through the hall. Someone sniffled loudly.
When he kissed Aphrodite, several men in the audience suddenly went very quiet, coughing awkwardly and pretending to adjust their ties.
When he kissed Hera, the mood shifted completely. The laughter died down, replaced by an almost respectful silence. No one knew why—it just felt serious.
And then—Raviel.
Allen kissed her.
And didn't pull away right away.
One second passed.
Then another.
Just a little longer.
A little too long.
"HEY—HEY—HEY!" Kurt shouted from the front table.
"That's illegal!" Marcus added.
"BRO, THAT'S FAVORITISM!" Eric yelled, laughing so hard he nearly spilled his drink.
Allen finally stepped back, his face slightly red. "Can you guys be serious for one single day?"
Raviel only smiled innocently, hands folded in front of her, looking like she had absolutely no idea what everyone was talking about.
The moment the music shifted into something more upbeat, the formal atmosphere completely collapsed.
Chairs were dragged aside. People stood up, hugging, laughing, crying, yelling congratulations over each other. It was loud, messy, emotional—perfect. The food tables were overflowing, almost absurdly so, because earlier Lenny had insisted,
"A wedding without too much food is a sin."
Allen hadn't even taken his first sip of his drink when Lenny slapped his shoulder hard enough to make him stumble.
"My cousin is married!" Lenny laughed, eyes red but smiling wide. "Congrats, man."
Allen chuckled and pulled him into a hug. "Thanks, Lenny."
That was all he said—but it was enough.
Soon, the guests moved into the next hall, where the reception officially began. Music played, glasses clinked, and the volume of conversation doubled.
That's when Marcus appeared, holding a drink and wearing the kind of grin that only meant trouble.
"Speech," he said simply.
"Oh no," Allen replied instantly.
"Oh yes," Kurt said, suddenly appearing beside him.
"There's no speech," Allen protested.
"Too late," Eric said casually, already shoving a microphone into Marcus's hand.
Within seconds, Allen was pushed into the center of the room.
Marcus cleared his throat dramatically.
"Ladies and gentlemen," he began, pacing like he was on a stage, "we are gathered here today to celebrate the only man brave—or stupid—enough to get married…"
He paused.
"…and immediately marry nine women."
The room exploded with laughter.
Allen covered his face. "I hate all of you."
"That means you love us," Marcus replied proudly.
Eventually, Allen took the microphone back. He lifted his wine glass slightly, his expression softening.
He spoke about how grateful he was to have met Raviel, his eyes finding her instantly. Then he turned to the others, saying the same from the heart. He thanked Lenny's family, his childhood friends, the people who had stood by him.
Simple words. Honest ones.
Then—his mistake.
He handed the mic to Rob.
Rob looked way too excited.
The moment Rob started talking, Lenny, Kurt, Marcus, and Eric all facepalmed at the exact same time.
Minutes passed.
Then more minutes.
Then way too many minutes.
Rob kept going. And going. And somehow found new stories no one asked for.
Thirty minutes later, people were shifting in their seats. Someone checked their watch. Someone else whispered, "Is this a TED Talk?"
Finally, Kurt snapped.
"DANCE FLOOOOOR!" he screamed at the top of his lungs.
"YEAHHHH!" everyone shouted in unison.
The music volume shot up, completely drowning out Rob mid-sentence. Lights shifted. People rushed to the floor. The wedding officially turned into a full-blown party.
Allen held out his arm toward Raviel, smiling a little nervous but sincere.
"My princess," he said softly, trying to sound confident even though his heart was pounding, "would you give me the honor of this dance?"
Raviel's eyes immediately lit up. She didn't hesitate for even a second, looping her arm through Allen's as if she'd been waiting for that exact moment all night.
"I'd love to," she replied, her voice warm and happy.
As soon as the music swelled, the atmosphere shifted.
Artemis suddenly grabbed Demeter's hand.
"Come on," she said with a grin. "Standing around is boring."
Persephone laughed and followed right behind them.
"You're not wrong," she said, almost skipping toward the dance floor.
Hestia hesitated at the edge, glancing around awkwardly.
"I, uh… I don't really dance," she muttered.
But after a few seconds—and one encouraging smile from Demeter—she sighed and gave in.
"…Fine. Just don't laugh at me."
On the other side of the room, Aphrodite didn't even ask. She straight-up grabbed Athena's wrist.
"We're dancing," Aphrodite declared.
Hera frowned.
"I can't dance," she said flatly, clearly pretending—her eyes briefly flicking toward Allen.
Aphrodite smirked.
"Oh please. Don't lie like that. We'll wait our turn for Allen later. Come on."
After a moment of fake resistance, Hera finally nodded.
"…Fine."
Even Athena, who had been standing with her arms crossed, smiling faintly as she watched the joyful scene, eventually joined the others. From time to time, she couldn't resist teasing Hera—who clearly looked like she was patiently, yet eagerly, waiting for her turn to dance with Allen.
Tiamat quietly followed beside her, matching her pace.
And just like that, half the room was on the dance floor.
People turned. Conversations stopped. Heads followed the movement almost automatically as the newlyweds and their friends filled the space with laughter, awkward steps, and clumsy spins.
At the center of it all, Allen and Raviel moved together slowly, almost forgetting everyone else existed.
Raviel danced with pure joy, no tears left—only a genuine smile that never seemed to fade. When she held Allen's hand, she leaned in and whispered softly, her voice nearly drowned out by the music and laughter around them.
After finishing the dance with Raviel, Allen turned and offered his hand to Hera. She accepted without hesitation, and as they began to move together, a smile slowly appeared on her face. Before long, she rested her cheek against Allen's chest, completely at ease, enjoying every second of their dance.
They moved calmly, almost intimately, and soon enough, people around them started looking again—some smiling, some whispering, others simply watching in silence.
After Hera, Allen switched partners one by one—Tiamat, then Aphrodite, Athena, Hestia, Artemis, Demeter, and Persephone. He danced with each of them, unhurried, natural, as if this was exactly where he was meant to be.
Meanwhile, Castoria sat with Mikaela at one of the tables, drinks in their hands as they chatted quietly. Every now and then, Castoria smiled while watching Allen dance with the women surrounding him.
Even though there was a small hint of jealousy in her eyes, she didn't look away.
Lenny eventually stood up and reached for his wife's hand.
"Come on," he said with a grin.
Not far from them, Kurt dragged his already-drunk wife onto the dance floor. She laughed wildly as they danced right in the middle of the crowd, completely off-beat and not caring at all.
Rob danced with Gloria, awkward but sincere.
Eric joined in too, laughing like nothing else mattered.
Off to the side, Marcus hugged his bottle of wine and danced all by himself.
"Well," he muttered, looking at the bottle, "guess it's just you and me this time."
At one of the tables, Jasmine sat quietly, her drink untouched.
Amber nudged her arm.
"What's wrong with you?" she asked.
Jasmine shook her head slowly.
"Nothing. Just… thinking."
Amber nodded, but her eyes narrowed slightly. Jasmine kept staring at Allen. And Allen—every now and then—glanced back in Jasmine's direction.
This bitch…Did something happen between them? Amber thought, her suspicion growing by the second.
Around them, the wedding party continued—loud, messy, emotional, and imperfect.
But somehow, that just made it perfect.
And the wedding party finally came to an end as the night drew close to midnight. One by one, the guests said their goodbyes and headed back to their homes, leaving the castle grounds slowly growing quieter.
In the end, only a few people stayed behind in the castle grounds—more accurately, the mansion itself. Amber and Jasmine chose to remain, as Hestia had asked them to stay for the night. Alongside them were Lenny, Kurt, Marcus, Rob, and Eric, all staying together with their respective families. Allen had already prepared separate living spaces for each of them in different areas of the mansion.
The mansion, once filled with loud music, laughter, and celebration, settled into a calmer, more relaxed atmosphere. Soft conversations lingered in the air, mixed with tired chuckles and slow footsteps echoing through the hallways—a clear sign that the night wasn't completely over yet.
It was no longer a party.
It was the after-party phase—exhausted, honest, and a little messy.
Just like a group of people who had spent far too much time together… but were far too comfortable to call it a night.
........
Meanwhile, Allen was ensconced in his opulent chamber alongside Raviel, Tiamat, Hera, Aphrodite, Athena, Artemis, Hestia, Demeter, and Persephone, all gathered to indulge in the intoxicating bliss of their wedding night.
Right now, Raviel and Tiamat were moaning in a steamy sandwich position, with Allen sliding his cock into their pussies one after the other.
"Ahhh... ahhh... ough... yes, faster, darling," Raviel gasped out, her voice a breathless plea laced with raw need.
The grand chamber, bathed in the soft flicker of candlelight from ornate sconces, pulsed with an electric undercurrent of desire. Silk drapes in deep crimson framed the massive four-poster bed at the center, its canopy swaying gently with the rhythm of the bodies entwined upon it.
Allen's private sanctuary had transformed into a haven of unbridled passion, the air heavy with the musky scent of arousal and the faint, exotic perfumes clinging to the women's skin. This was no ordinary evening; it was the culmination of vows exchanged in secrecy, a night where boundaries dissolved and every touch ignited wildfires.
Raviel and Tiamat formed the core of this heated union, their bodies locked in a tantalizing sandwich that left little to the imagination. Raviel reclined on her back across the plush feather mattress, her lithe form arched in anticipation, legs splayed wide to accommodate the intensity.
Her pale skin flushed pink from exertion, silver strands of hair matted to her forehead as sweat beaded along her collarbone. Above her, Tiamat straddled with predatory grace, her curvaceous figure—marked by those faint, iridescent scales that hinted at her ancient lineage—pressing down firmly. Their breasts compressed together in a slick slide, nipples pebbled and sensitive, rubbing with each subtle shift that sent sparks racing through their nerves.
Allen loomed over them both, his broad shoulders casting shadows that danced across the walls, every muscle in his toned physique coiled like a spring ready to unleash. His cock, thick and rigid, throbbed with urgent need, the shaft glistening from the mingled wetness of his lovers.
He started with Raviel, gripping her hips to angle her just right, then drove forward with a powerful thrust. Her pussy welcomed him eagerly, walls stretching around his girth, clenching in rhythmic pulses that drew a guttural groan from deep in his chest. The sensation was exquisite—hot, velvety tightness enveloping him completely as he bottomed out, his balls tapping against her ass.
Raviel's head fell back against the pillows, her moans spilling freely now.
"Ahhh... ahhh... ough... yes, faster, darling," she urged, her voice cracking with desperation. Her hands roamed upward, fingers digging into Tiamat's thighs for leverage, pulling the other woman closer as if to share the overwhelming pleasure. Each word was punctuated by the wet sounds of Allen's hips meeting hers, the slap of flesh echoing like a primal drumbeat.
Not one to leave Tiamat idle, Allen withdrew from Raviel with a slick, audible schlick, his cock bobbing free, coated in her creamy essence that dripped in thin strands. He shifted seamlessly, pressing the swollen head against Tiamat's entrance. She was drenched, her folds parted and quivering, heat radiating from her core like a furnace. With a firm push, he sank into her, feeling her inner muscles ripple and grip him tighter than a fist.
Tiamat threw her head back, a low, rumbling moan vibrating through her body and into Raviel beneath her. "Deeper... don't stop," she hissed, grinding down to take every inch, her ass flexing as she rode the intrusion.
The alternation built a frenzied tempo, Allen pistoning between them with increasing speed, honoring Raviel's plea. Into Raviel's spasming pussy, feeling her juices squirt around his base with each plunge; then out and into Tiamat's scorching depths, where she bucked wildly, her claws lightly scraping the sheets. The sandwich compressed their forms even more, Raviel's clit grinding against Tiamat's thigh while Tiamat's breasts bounced against Raviel's, amplifying the shared ecstasy. Moans intertwined—Raviel's high and keening, Tiamat's deep and throaty—filling the room like a symphony of surrender.