My Taboo Harem!

A live stream filled the screen, showing a vast private skating rink beneath a vaulted roof of glass. Thousands of suspended lights glittered above the ice, while artificial snow drifted through the air in slow, beautiful spirals. Music, laughter and the sharp hiss of skates travelled through the phone’s speakers as princesses, attendants and members of Phei’s growing circle moved across the frozen surface.

Phei stood in the centre of it all.

Of course he did.

The Young Dragon wore white and black skates, his hair moving around his face as he crossed the ice with insulting ease. Women surrounded him from every direction. Several already belonged to his group, while others were princesses who had supposedly attended merely to enjoy the gathering and appeared to be forgetting that intention each time he smiled at them.

Danton’s teeth pressed together:

Because near the edge of the rink, Paige "lost her balance" while attempting to turn. One skate slipped beneath her, her arms rose in "alarm" and her body began falling backwards toward the ice. Phei did not even move closer. He merely looked in her direction and snapped his fingers.

Something invisible caught Paige around the waist.

She flew across several metres of ice, snow bursting beneath her skates as she was dragged into Phei’s waiting arms. He caught her easily against his chest and continued gliding as though pulling a woman through space without touching her were merely another entertaining trick.

Paige stared up at him with flushed cheeks before he whispered something that made her laugh and strike his chest.

Danton ground his teeth hard enough for the sound to reach Marcus.

Marcus’s smile widened.

He hated Phei with an intensity that had survived humiliation, defeat and the memory of being forced against the dining-hall floor.

Yet watching Danton, a being who normally treated every danger on Earth as a temporary joke, become genuinely irritated by Phei’s closeness to the twins gave Marcus a satisfaction so rich it almost counted as healing.

Delilah’s voice suddenly echoed through the phone. "I want to try that too," she called, skating backwards several metres from Phei with her eyes bright beneath the winter lights.

Phei turned toward her and raised one eyebrow, clearly amused by the demand.

Delilah opened her arms expectantly, and he snapped his fingers again.

She shot across the rink.

Her delighted laughter rose above the music as Phei caught her at the waist and lifted her completely from the ice. Instead of waiting to be lowered, Delilah wrapped both legs around his body and locked her arms behind his neck. Phei continued skating at terrifying speed while she leaned forward and kissed him deeply, uncaring that everyone around them could see.

His hand spread across her back to keep her secure as he carried her through a curtain of falling snow.

Delilah’s fingers entered his hair, her mouth remained pressed against his and the stream captured the entire shameless display beneath lights bright enough to make privacy impossible.

Danton’s expression became unnaturally still.

Marcus watched him rather than the screen, barely suppressing another laugh.

Harold stepped closer and stared at the phone with cold disgust.

His three daughters could all be seen somewhere within the stream. Delilah remained wrapped around Phei as though she had forgotten every scrap of dignity the Maxton name had given her. Sienna moved farther across the ice, silent and beautiful, yet her violet eyes repeatedly returned to the boy whenever she believed no one was watching.

Victoria stood near the edge of the rink surrounded by others, but even she followed Phei with an expression Harold recognised far too well.

’Traitors. Ignorant, treacherous fools.’

His daughters had forgotten who had raised them and which family had shaped their lives.

They circled the Dragon as though love, lust and a handsome face had erased every obligation engraved into their bones.

’If this is what they want,’ Harold decided, ’then perhaps they deserve to die beside him.’

On the screen, Phei finally lowered Delilah back onto the ice.

She remained close enough for her body to brush against his while laughing into his chest, and he bent to whisper something near her ear before snapping his fingers once more. Snowflakes surrounding Delilah suddenly rose in a glittering spiral, winding around her body and lifting her several feet above the rink.

She gasped, then laughed again as hundreds of white crystals circled her like tiny stars while Phei skated beneath her with one hand raised.

Danton’s jaw flexed so violently that a thin pulse of golden fire appeared beside his cheek before vanishing.

Marcus recognised the moment and knew exactly where to direct the anger.

He lowered the phone just enough to keep the stream visible and asked, "What do we do now? The princesses are becoming far too attached to him, and the longer we delay, the more completely our plans collapse. Every day another woman enters his orbit, another member of cohort we’re supposed to being back losses their chance which gives the Dragon another useful piece begins believing she belongs at his side."

Danton remained silent for several seconds while watching Phei laugh beneath the falling snow.

Then he rose from the head chair and held out one hand for the phone. Marcus passed it over without argument.

"Easy," Danton said, his voice so calm that the cruelty beneath it felt almost clean.

He studied the smiling boy on the screen, surrounded by women who loved him, trusted him and believed themselves safe because he stood among them. "The next step is for Phei to discover what real pain feels like."

Marcus’s amusement disappeared.

Danton moved one finger across the screen, passing over the princesses and Legacy daughters whose deaths might trigger ancestral consequences. He ignored the bloodline heirs, the protected women and those whose families might drag ancient vengeance through Fate itself.

His finger stopped over one woman who possessed no princess title and no Legacy protection worth respecting.

She possessed only just a few days of good memories with the dragon and affection.

A place inside Phei’s life deep enough that removing her would leave something behind that power could not replace.

Danton tapped the screen once and said, "She has lived long enough."

Marcus felt a small chill pass through him.

The last time they had targeted those around Phei, Zack had been stripped of his manhood, Anderson had received a gashing scar across his entire face and Aiden now wore gloves to conceal what remained of his hand.

Those injuries had been warnings delivered with enough cruelty to make their victims understand that the Dragon could always reach deeper.

But killing someone belonging to the Dragon was different.

Danton possessed the power to defend himself once Phei’s fury started to annihilate everything, he even possessed the Flames of Beginning, Divine Lord strength and enough ancient chaineds to use as cannon fodders to survive confrontations that would erase most beings on Earth.

But Marcus possessed none of those assurances.

If they took someone Phei loved, what would happen when the Dragon came searching for the hands responsible? Would Danton remain beside him when that fury arrived? Would the Lord intervene? Would the Laws protect Marcus from a boy whose power had already ignored too many rules?

Danton handed the phone back and turned toward the Eternal Prison Gates:

"Bring the entire organisation that erased the Selene mess," he ordered. "I want every operative and bring the people who removed witnesses, destroyed records and erased that disaster so completely that even those who survived began doubting their own memories."

Marcus looked at him sharply. "The entire organisation?"

"All of it," Danton replied, glancing back at Phei’s laughing face on the screen. "And finish this properly. It is time for the Dragon to remember the sort of pain he has not experienced for many years."

Elliot’s eyes narrowed as he understood what Danton intended. Harold’s smile returned almost immediately, because he understood it too:

"Phei has not lost anyone since his parents... the fool has forgotten and has grown comfortable."

The wound left by their deaths had never healed.

It had only been buried beneath time, love, wealth, women and the new family gathering around him. The scar had closed badly over an emptiness still waiting beneath it, and Danton intended to drive a blade directly into that old injury, twist until the flesh split and tear it wide enough for every buried memory to begin bleeding again.

Elliot leaned back thoughtfully, his gaze remaining on the stream as he said:

"Targeting only one may not be enough. One death could still be treated as a tragedy he eventually survives, but two or three would become a lesson he could never misunderstand."

Harold’s smirk widened as his eyes settled Phei on the screen... it seemed like someone else had not followed the Dragon:

"Better yet, kill Melissa!"

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