Chapter 322: The Best Morning
Martin woke with a breast filling his left hand and the warm curve of an ass pressed into his right palm.
He stayed still as the last of his sleep faded. Late-morning light slipped around the curtains, but the bedroom still held some of the night’s softness. The sheets were tangled around three pairs of legs, and Katherine had somehow stolen most of his pillow after the sleepy argument she and Cassandra had over it before bed.
His body remembered the night more clearly than his mind did. A dull ache lingered in his shoulders and thighs, and the scratches along his back stung whenever he shifted. One of the damp towels Katherine had brought from the bathroom lay draped over the nearest chair, folded once and left there. The room still held a trace of wine beneath the warmer scents trapped in the sheets. That small bit of disorder made Cassandra’s bedroom look lived in instead of ready for inspection.
Cassandra lay curled against his left side, her head tucked below his shoulder. At some point during the night, his arm had wrapped around her and his palm had settled over her breast. His fingers cupped the soft weight more firmly than he remembered, with his thumb resting dangerously close to her nipple.
On any other morning, Cassandra probably would have woken before him, straightened the sheets, checked three schedules, and erased every sign that anyone had spent the night there.
This morning, she slept with her cheek pressed to his chest and one bare leg tangled with his. The hard line usually set around her mouth was gone, and the faint curve of her lips made her look relieved, comfortable, and quietly happy.
Martin had seen Cassandra proud, calculating, furious, frightened, and in enough pain to cry against him. He had never expected happiness to make her look this peaceful.
His fingers tightened on instinct before he caught himself. Cassandra took a deeper breath but did not wake.
Peace did not mean that either of them had healed overnight. Martin was still angry about the choices she had made as Victoria, and he had no idea how much trust they could rebuild once they left the bedroom. For now, Cassandra finally seemed to feel safe enough to sleep without expecting the next disaster.
She still had not accepted Alexandra’s harem plan.
Cassandra had sent Victoria’s records and chosen to stay, but she had not mistaken a night in Martin’s arms for forgiveness or an answer to every question between them. Whether the others would accept her return was up to the people she had hurt. Joining the harem was a separate choice, and only Cassandra could make it.
Elisebeth and Rias had already said no, and Katherine had not given him a clear answer either. Martin could want the harem without making his relationships with any of them depend on their answers.
The desire was not new. He had told Alexandra that he wanted to try, and he had admitted to Katherine that wanting all of them was the easy part. Until now, though, the harem had existed mostly in plans, boundaries, and possibilities he could only imagine.
His date with Alexandra had made the idea feel real for the first time. He had cooked for her, danced with her among the trees, and climbed the Light Tree until he nearly fell. She had turned even the climb into a competition, yet she refused to release his wrist after he found another hold.
Last night had been nothing like his date with Alexandra. Katherine turned every hesitation into a game, while Cassandra needed to understand each step before she could enjoy giving up control. They had teased, argued, rested, eaten olives, and left evidence of themselves in nearly every room they entered.
The morning put that possibility right in front of him: Katherine’s red hair across his pillow, Cassandra’s bare leg tangled with his, and two different kinds of warmth pressed against him. The harem was no longer just an experiment he had agreed to try. It looked like a life he could wake up to, and the thought of losing it already hurt.
That certainty brought less fear than he expected. With Cassandra breathing against his chest and Katherine warm beneath his other hand, the future felt more possible than it had the night before.
He wanted more dates and more mornings, with the women he cared about finding room beside one another without becoming less themselves. Alexandra’s possessive confidence excited him, while Katherine made even his awkwardness part of the fun. With Cassandra, he wanted more moments like this, when she stopped bracing for disaster and allowed herself to rest.
Knowing what he wanted only made it harder to wait for Cassandra’s answer.
"Good morning."
Katherine’s quiet voice drew his attention to his other side.
She was awake and tucked against his arm, her red hair spread over the pillow and his shoulder. She held her phone above the blanket with the screen dimmed. Her free arm was folded between their bodies, while his right palm remained planted on her bare ass. Since the phone had been in the living room, she must have slipped out of bed to retrieve it without waking either of them.
Katherine glanced from his face to the hand on her ass and smiled with lazy satisfaction.
"How long have you been awake?" Martin whispered.
"Long enough to get thirsty and grab my phone. You complained when I moved your hand, so I put it back." She shifted closer, pressing herself more firmly into his palm. "I didn’t want to interrupt your research."
"I complained in my sleep?"
"Not with words. Your fingers were very persuasive."
Martin flexed them deliberately this time. Katherine’s smile widened, and she buried a quiet laugh against his shoulder before turning her phone so he could see the screen.
"I posted that I had the best day and an even better morning."
Her verified account showed a post from less than twenty minutes earlier.
[Katherine: A difficult day became one of the best I’ve had in years. Somehow, this morning is even better. ❤️]