The morning came soft and golden, sunlight spilling through the half-open shutters. Birds were already singing in the garden outside, their little chirps a playful chorus to a far less innocent chamber.
Aiden opened his eyes slowly, his silver irises glowing faintly with ember, like coals that never died.
His chest rose with a deep, satisfied breath. His heart burned hot, but full—satiated, at least for now.
"Mmm..." Flora moaned faintly, still half-asleep, her messy hair brushing against his jaw as she snuggled deeper against his chest. Her legs clung to him like ivy to stone, soft skin pressing into his sore muscles.
"Fu...me...Ai...den," another voice murmured dreamily, Luna whispering his name in her sleep, her breath hot against his arm.
Aiden allowed himself a faint smile, though exhaustion was written across his body. His muscles ached in protest from two long days of relentless training—and even longer nights of going round after round, course after course, until dawn broke.
Luna had argued endlessly during the day, insisting he should be learning magic, not "clinging to rusted swordplay." But Aiden had reminded her, with a grin sharp enough to sting, that he was a knight, not a mage. She had beloud back that one could be both.
He laughed. Flora laughed. No one had ever accomplished such a feat before—except one. The memory gnawed at him like a splinter under the skin. The main character. Swordsmanship, magic, and the berserker’s gift. The one Arina herself had chosen. A being who could not lose.
If Aiden were bold enough to cozy up to him, to charm him, even to win his trust...he could learn twice as fast. He could gain skills beyond imagining. But no. That path reeked of risk too great. High rewards were always baited traps.
For now, Flora was enough. Her stolen sword style already reshaped his movements, his battle form slowly coiling into its new serpent-skin flow. The pieces of power were falling into place.
Knock. Knock.
Aiden didn’t need to guess. He already knew who stood outside, their aura dripping through the wood like perfume—jealousy, ripe and heavy.
"Flora..." Catherine called, voice sharp but softened by fatigue.
Flora groaned, burying her face deeper in his chest, ignoring the summons entirely.
"Luna, I know you are there as well..." Sabrina’s voice added, tinged with irritation, but also something thinner, needier.
There was a pause. Cathe almost said his name too—"Ai..."—but caught herself, biting back the syllables as though ashamed to let it slip.
Aiden chuckled low, climbing from the sheets. He padded to the door, muscles taut and gleaming with the faint sheen of sweat.
Through the keyhole, he saw them—two pompous, mature beauties, pouting like spoiled girls denied their favorite toy. Three nights without his cock had turned them restless, their hunger as obvious as the resentment in their eyes.
Click.
He swung the door open.
Both women froze.
He didn’t speak. He didn’t need to. He simply stood there—tall, broad-shouldered, naked. The morning light kissed every hard line of him, from his sharp face down the carved slopes of his chest and abs, to the lazy, heavy hang of his cock between his thighs.
Their eyes widened despite themselves. Catherine’s lips parted. Sabrina swallowed, hard. For a few seconds, they only stared at him like art too perfect to be real. Then their gazes inevitably dropped lower.
Their thighs clenched. Lips bit down. A blush stole across cheeks that should have been far too dignified for blushing.
"...y-you really have no shame, do you?" Sabrina finally managed, her tone brittle with denial.
"... Ai...aiden, where is my daughter?" Catherine asked, her words stiff, as though pretending not to notice the heat flushing up her neck. Both of them stepped past him, entering without invitation.
Thud!
The door shut behind them, and their nostrils flared almost immediately. Aiden’s scent—his sweat, his musk—hung thick in the room. More than that, the air reeked of sex: hot, sweet, salty, endless. The walls themselves seemed to breathe it.
He lounged on the sofa, utterly at ease, still naked. The two women’s eyes flicked automatically to the bed. Their daughters lay tangled there, naked beneath sheets, skin glistening faintly, hair damp, bodies too obviously spent.
They didn’t need to ask what had happened. They knew. They had known for days, each groan through the walls, each sleepless night imagining him buried between their daughters’ thighs.
Flora had been the greediest, pulling him into her "training" again and again.
Catherine had waited in her office, night after night, hoping he would come to her instead. Every hour Augustus lay asleep, she sat on the balcony, shivering with the ache in her core, craving what was not hers to have.
Sabrina had fared even worse. More than three days now, alone in her bed, hands trembling between her legs night after night, trying to find relief. But her fingers never gave her what she truly wanted.
Now, watching their daughters sprawled in naked satisfaction, jealousy cut like a knife.
"You know," Aiden said lazily, a smirk tugging his lips, "I can fuck all four of you at the same time."
"No!"
"No!"
Their voices overlapped, sharp and immediate. Pride, what little of it remained, bristled like a shield. They might be jealous, but they would not debase themselves so openly before their daughters.
Not yet.
The shout startled the sleepers. Flora and Luna sat upright in panic, clutching sheets to their chests.
"M-Mother! What are you doing here?" Flora stammered.
"w..why are you here...Get out, please!" Luna protested, cheeks burning.
But their mothers would not leave. Instead, both reached for their daughters’ ears and twisted mercilessly, like scolding children.
"tomorrow we leave for home," Sabrina snapped. "You forgot? The anointment party is hosted by our house Merlin this year."
"Indeed," Catherine added coldly. "Now get ready. Your father almost came here this morning. Thank the gods he didn’t..." Her gaze lingered on Aiden, still sprawled on the sofa, unconcerned.
"You as well, Aiden," she said firmly. "Your armor is finished. Gerald has been searching for you since sunrise."
Aiden only nodded. Mother-daughter drama didn’t interest him. He rose to leave, broad back shifting like living marble.
But Sabrina’s breath hitched. Her thighs pressed together as wet heat pooled, impossible to control. Watching him walk away, cock swaying lazily with every step, snapped her restraint.
Before she knew it, she had left luns’s ear, as she was at the door, pressing it shut with trembling fingers.
There was a pause. A long pause.
"Aiden..." she breathed, her voice cracking into a plea. "Just one more time. Please. I’ve waited enough. You’ve ignored me enough." Her pride crumbled with every word, replaced by raw, aching need.
Aiden leaned down, lips near her ear. His whisper coiled like smoke. "In front of your daughter?"
Sabrina didn’t flinch. She turned, looking directly at Flora and Luna, her face flushed, defiant.
"You two have hogged him long enough," she beloud, gripping Aiden’s wrist with trembling strength. "I need him. Before we leave, I need my time."
Her patience shattered. She dragged him toward the bathroom, skirts swishing wildly.
"And you two—" she snapped, glancing back before slamming the door. "Get dressed! Catherine, discipline these unruly children."
Thud!
Silence.
"Shameless..." Catherine muttered.
"Yeah... shameless," Flora echoed bitterly.
"Shameless indeed," Luna agreed, face hot with embarrassment.
For a moment, only silence held. But it didn’t last.
Soon, muffled gasps filtered through the door. Then louder. Then shamelessly loud. Sabrina’s voice filled the chamber, each cry edged with months of pent-up lust.
"Ahhhhhh!... Ahhh, yes! Yes! ♥️ Pound me! Harder! I missed it—I missed you so much!!"
Catherine’s composure snapped like brittle glass. She stood, trembling.
"I’m going in," she said.
Flora’s sheet slipped from her fingers. "What—? Mother, no—"
"I’m... I’m coming too," Luna stammered, eyes darting to the door.
Flora’s fists clenched. "M..Me too..." she whispered, jealousy burning hotter than shame.