My Taboo Harem!

"How?"

Marcus asked the question as they crossed beneath the next archway, irritation sharpening the single word. Behind them, the colossal summoning hall still breathed with the aftermath of the Eternal Prison Gates, its damaged distances stretching and contracting around the altar while residues of Void clung stubbornly to the stone.

Danton did not answer immediately.

He smiled.

That smile alone was enough to make Marcus regret asking...

Danton continued walking for several more steps, hands buried inside the pockets of his coat, golden hair catching the cold light of the suspended runes overhead. He looked almost leisurely, a prince wandering through his own estate after an enjoyable dinner rather than an ancient creature refining a conspiracy that might tear several Legacy Families apart before breakfast finished digesting.

Then he stopped.

His golden eyes slid past Marcus and settled upon Anahita.

The Fallen Angel had followed them from the hall in perfect silence, silver-blonde hair lying over her shoulders while her mismatched wings remained folded tightly behind her. A few paces farther back walked the prison attendant who had released her, his posture disciplined and his curiosity wisely buried beneath years of employment.

Danton lifted one hand.

"You two," he said brightly. "Out."

The attendant bowed immediately.

Anahita remained still for the smallest fraction of a second before lowering her head.

"As you command."

Danton’s grin widened.

"Wonderful. Obedience. So elegant when someone else is doing it."

Marcus glanced at him, already annoyed by the theatrical cheer in his voice.

Anahita turned without question and walked toward the archway they had just crossed. The attendant hurried after her, noticeably relieved to be dismissed from a conversation between two beings whose friendship seemed to involve mockery, firearms, old names and occasional threats of annihilation.

Danton watched them leave, he even waved when the attendant glanced back.

"Goodbye. Do not listen through the walls. They tend to bite."

The man faced forward again and walked faster, Anahita did not look back at all; the moment both figures vanished beyond the archway, Danton brought his hands together in a single, light clap.

The clap struck the air and disappeared as though swallowed by an unseen mouth.

Marcus felt the change before he understood it:

The immense passage remained visually identical, every black pillar and golden rune exactly where it had been, yet something had folded around them. Sound from the summoning chamber vanished. The distant hum of the altar disappeared, even the faint vibration travelling through the floor ceased beneath Marcus’s shoes.

The space surrounding them had been removed from the rest of the estate without appearing to move at all.

Marcus narrowed his eyes.

He had not seen Danton release some kind of array, invoke an artifact or shape a barrier or nay pulse of power and no distortion he could identify before the concealment settled into place.

Yet he knew with absolute certainty that no one outside could see, hear or sense what occurred within.

Whatever Danton intended to say required secrecy.

Complete secrecy.

Danton turned toward him, the smile remained, but the playfulness behind it had sharpened into something more attentive.

"I do not trust her."

Marcus frowned. "What do you mean, she..."

The protest died before it could properly leave him... understanding crossed his face.

"Oh."

Danton tilted his head. "A magnificent contribution."

Marcus ignored the insult and glanced toward the archway through which Anahita had disappeared.

"There is nothing to worry about," he said. "Anahita is bound to me. Her soul cannot betrayal mr. She can resist in small ways, perhaps delay an order or interpret vague instructions creatively, but she cannot turn against me where it matters."

Danton looked at him for several quiet seconds then he sighed.

"Helel."

Marcus’s jaw tightened.

"You are so very powerful in theory and so deeply naive in practice. It is almost charming. If I did not know you better, I might pat your head and tell you the world is safe because soul contracts have never failed, gods have never lied, and prisoners always adore the hand holding the chain."

"The bond is absolute."

"Yes, yes. Absolute." Danton rolled one hand through the air. "A lovely word. Ancient men use it whenever they wish to announce that fate is about to humiliate them creatively."

Marcus’s expression darkened.

Before he could answer, Danton lifted a finger.

"I do not know what happened to her." The humor in his voice thinned. "I do not know whether someone touched her soul or merely whispered something into the correct fracture. But she felt wrong."

Marcus studied him.

"Wrong how?"

"If I knew precisely, this conversation would be shorter and significantly less interesting."

Danton looked toward the sealed archway as if his serpent eyes could pierce the concealment and find Anahita beyond it.

"Every other time I have encountered her, I could feel the chain around her before she even spoke. Fear, resentment, obedience, resignation. A beautiful little prison walking on two legs and pretending the walls were wings."

His gaze narrowed.

"This time, the prison was still there." Danton’s smile returned slowly. "But something inside it had stopped believing the doors were locked."

Marcus remained silent... for once, Danton did not laugh at his own sentence and that unsettled Marcus more than the accusation itself.

After a moment, he dismissed the concern with a slight shrug.

"She was confined for what felt like decades for her. Perception of time inside that cave was stretched deliberately. Anyone would emerge changed after enduring ten years or more of punishment."

"Mm."

Danton continued looking toward the archway.

Marcus spread one hand. "You are imagining danger because you enjoy finding it."

"Oh, I adore danger. It has better manners than most people." Danton finally looked back at him. "But I rarely imagine it, Helel. Usually, danger is kind enough to present itself while everyone slower insists there is nothing to worry about."

Marcus’s eyes hardened at the repeated use of his original name.

Danton studied him for another second, then gave an easy shrug.

"But perhaps you are right. Perhaps she is simply exhausted, traumatized, furious, and spiritually disoriented after spending subjective decades chained inside a frozen cave by the family she serves. Very reassuring."

"She serves me."

"That distinction is doing heroic work."

Marcus folded his arms.

Danton laughed softly and waved the matter aside: "If you say she cannot betray you, then she cannot betray you. Wonderful. Let us carve it into stone and place flowers around it."

His expression sharpened again... "Still, it will not hurt to keep certain things between ourselves, will it?"

Marcus considered the question.

Whether Anahita remained loyal or not, withholding the deeper plan cost them nothing. She only needed to know the instructions required for her infiltration. There was no reason to burden her with the complete structure behind it.

He nodded.

"No. It will not."

"Excellent." Danton clasped his hands together as though they had just reached agreement over seating arrangements rather than the possibility that Marcus’s enslaved fallen angel was no longer entirely enslaved.

Marcus glanced around the silent passage.

"Now tell me. How do we spice up the plan?"

The joy left Danton’s face by degrees.

It did not vanish completely, a faint smile remained at the corner of his mouth, but the performance behind it settled. His posture straightened slightly, and something old looked outward through his golden serpent eyes.

"Phei is powerful."

Marcus waited for the insult or joke that usually followed.

None came.

Danton began walking again, slower this time, and Marcus fell into step beside him.

"He is considerably more powerful than he should be," Danton continued. "His growth is irregular. His abilities refuse to remain within what we expected of him. Every time we observe him, something new appears, and every answer creates three more questions."

Marcus watched him from the corner of his eye.

There was caution beneath Danton’s voice.

Hidden well, but present.

That was rare.

Danton was already powerful enough to annihilate most beings on Earth without interrupting his laughter. Recklessness seemed woven into him as deeply as arrogance and that unbearable golden beauty.

He treated danger like an old acquaintance who owed him money.

Yet when he spoke of Phei, he measured his words.

’Does Danton fear Phei?’

The thought felt absurd... or perhaps Marcus had misunderstood what caution looked like in someone who had survived long enough to know that fear and intelligence occasionally shared clothing.

Danton glanced sideways and caught him staring.

"What?"

"Nothing."

"You were thinking. It looked painful."

Marcus scowled.

Danton smiled, satisfied, and continued.

"Phei is powerful, but he remains one man. One extremely irritating, increasingly unpredictable man, yes, but one man all the same."

Marcus nodded slowly. "Yes. So?"

Danton stopped.

He turned his head and stared at Marcus with such pure disappointment that the silence itself seemed embarrassed on Marcus’s behalf.

"So?"

Marcus’s expression hardened. "That is what I asked."

"I heard you. I was merely hoping the words would grow ashamed and return to your mouth."

"Get to the point."

Danton rubbed his forehead.

There were moments when he truly missed Shekinah with an ache sharp enough to turn memory into hunger... she would have understood before the sentence finished.

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