09:30 – Ashglass Canyons, Spire of the First Kiss
The spire was still warm from the alpha's death. Black glass petals drifted like ash, catching the rising sun and turning it into a thousand tiny funerals. Arya's coat lay discarded; the mercury bikini clung to her skin with sweat and dragon blood. Velira's ghost-blade—now a slender rapier of living shadow—rested across her bare thighs, humming a low, hungry note.
Alexander knelt in front of her, shirt torn open, storm runes flickering across the ridges of his abs. His hands framed her face, thumbs wiping away tears she hadn't realized were falling.
"She's gone," he whispered, voice cracked.
"No," Arya answered, pressing the flat of the rapier to his heart. "She's here."
The blade pulsed. A single petal of shadow peeled away and became Velira—translucent, barefoot, wearing the same crooked grin she'd had the night she taught Arya to pick a chastity rune.
"Hey, Alpha," ghost-Velira said, voice echoing inside Arya's skull and Alexander's ears at once. "Told you I'd stick around."
The cohort ringed the spire twenty meters back, giving them the illusion of privacy. Liora's ice had melted into a mirror pool; Cassia's flames floated above it like blue lanterns; Sable's shadows wove a curtain that let moonlight in but kept eyes out. Even the dragons lowered their heads, wings folded in respect.
Arya's telekinesis stirred the air, lifting every glass petal into a slow vortex around the three of them.
"Show me how to bring you back," she demanded.
Velira's ghost floated closer, until her lips almost brushed Arya's ear.
"Kiss him. Really kiss him. Pour everything you feel into it. I'll ride the resonance."
Alexander's pupils blew wide. "Arya—"
She silenced him with her mouth.
09:35 – The Kiss That Breaks Death
It wasn't gentle.
It was teeth and tongue and the taste of copper where she bit his lip too hard. His hands slid under the bikini, palms rough against the brand. Storm runes flared white-hot; the ghost-blade sang. Arya's telekinesis tightened, dragging them both to their knees on the warm glass.
Velira's ghost slipped between their joined mouths—shadow threading through flesh.
Arya felt her everywhere: the ghost's fingers ghosting over her spine, Alexander's storm magic crackling against her tongue, the canyon wind turning into Velira's laugh.
She poured grief, rage, love, lust—everything—into the kiss.
The spire cracked.
A ring of pure mana exploded outward, flattening the cohort to their knees. The dragons roared approval. Crystal orbs shattered mid-air.
Velira's ghost solidified.
Skin, warmth, heartbeat.
Naked, scarred, grinning like sin.
She landed between Arya and Alexander, knees in the glass, hands cupping both their faces.
"Miss me?"
09:40 – Resurrection Sex
There was no time for words.
Velira kissed Arya first—soft, filthy, tasting of shadow and salt. Then she turned and claimed Alexander's mouth while Arya's telekinesis ripped the rest of their clothes away. Fabric burned to ash in Cassia's distant flames.
They fell together.
Arya straddled Velira's hips, grinding slow, deliberate circles that made the ghost-blade—now flesh again—arch and swear. Alexander knelt behind Arya, mouth on her throat, fingers sliding between her thighs to join Velira's. Two sets of hands, one storm and one shadow, working in perfect sync.
Velira's laugh turned into a moan when Arya's telekinesis lifted her an inch off the glass and held her there, suspended, helpless.
"Cheater," she gasped.
Arya answered by guiding Alexander inside her—slow, burning, inch by inch—while Velira watched, pupils blown. When he was seated deep, Arya leaned forward, breasts brushing Velira's, and whispered against her lips:
"Feel him through me."
She pushed a thread of telekinesis into Velira's core—not penetration, resonance. Every thrust Alexander gave Arya echoed inside Velira like a phantom cock. Velira's back bowed; her nails raked Arya's shoulders, drawing blood that tasted like starlight.
Alexander's rhythm turned brutal. The spire shook. Glass petals swirled into a hurricane around them.
Velira came first—silent scream, shadows exploding from her skin in orgasmic wings.
Arya followed, clenching around Alexander, telekinesis crushing the air from their lungs in the sweetest way.
Alexander lasted three more thrusts before he spilled inside her, storm runes branding temporary lightning into her hips.
They collapsed in a tangle of limbs and aftershocks, glass petals settling over them like a blanket.
10:00 – The Cohort Joins
The shadow curtain dropped.
The cohort rushed forward—tears, laughter, shouted curses of joy.
Liora threw herself at Velira, ice melting into warm kisses. Cassia's flames wrapped them in a cocoon of blue fire that didn't burn. Sable's shadows curled around ankles and wrists, binding the three of them gently to the glass so no one floated away. The twins fused just to hug them with four arms. Milo and Lena levitated the entire group an inch off the ground, spinning them in slow circles like a mobile.
Gilgamesh punched the air. "Death's got nothing on us!"
Velira, breathless, traced the new scar on Arya's hip—Alexander's lightning rune.
"System's gonna be pissed," she grinned.
Arya kissed her forehead, then Alexander's, then every member of the cohort in turn. Each kiss left a tiny spark of Velira's shadow on their skin—permanent proof that death had been outbid.
10:30 – The New Brand
When they finally stood, the ghost-blade had become a living tattoo across Arya's collarbones: Velira's crooked grin inked in moving shadow, dagger rune glowing whenever Arya's heart raced.
The canyon wind carried a new System whisper, softer than ever before:
Resurrection protocol… unauthorized.
Penalty deferred.
Love Code.
Arya looked at her family—eleven bodies, seven dragons, one impossible second chance.
"Jonathan took one of us," she said, voice steady. "We just stole her back.
Next time we see him, we take everything."
Velira twirled an imaginary dagger, winked.
"And I get first blood."
The cohort roared.
The dragons answered.
The Ashglass Canyons trembled with the sound of a harem reborn.