Chapter 14: Bloodstorm Bridehunt
The snow had stopped falling.
Only silence remained—broken temple walls, shattered pillars, and the scent of burned holiness lingering in the air. At the center of it all stood Lucien, his chest bare, divine mark pulsing gold over crimson. Around him, his brides caught their breath: Lilith, licking blood from her blade; Aralynn, still glowing with bloodlust; Elira, trembling from the aftermath of her surrender.
And the former Goddess of Judgment knelt at his feet—stripped of divinity, wearing only a torn shimmerveil. Her golden eyes stared at him, confused... angry... and aroused.
"You fell," Lucien said. "Now you rise—mine."
> [System Notification: Divine Conversion in Progress – 27%]
[New Status: Mortal Demi-Bride – Class Pending Approval]
The goddess spat blood to the side. "I am not your servant."
Lucien leaned down, tilting her chin. "No. You’re my prize."
And then he kissed her.
Hard. Deep. Slow.
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