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The air in the room vibrated with unspent magick, thick with something ancient and hungry. I felt it in my bones—in the waymy hands trembled a bit when they never did, in the way my chest ached with something I wasn’t ready to name.

She looked at each of us like she saw us. Not the sins or the monsters, but simple men buried under centuries of indulgence and denial.

And still...she chose.

I was the first to move.

Of course I was. I’d touched her before any of them, tasted the edges of her rage and tenderness, known from the moment she walked into Diana’s office that she was going to unravel me. But I hadn’t known it would feel like this.

I reached for her slowly, brushing my knuckles along the curve of her cheek. Her breath hitched—not in fear, never fear—but anticipation.

“You have no idea what you’re inviting,” I murmured.

“Let’s find out,” she whispered.

Behind me, I felt the others stir.

Pride stepped in close, silent and burning, jaw tight with restraint. Envy hovered just behind her, eyes molten green. Greed made a low sound in his throat, hungry in a way that had nothing to do with gold. Sloth, slow and deliberate, ran his gaze down her body like he was memorizing her. Even Gluttony, usually so composed, looked half undone.

We didn’t deserve her.

But she wanted us anyway.

And for once, that want didn’t feel carnal—it felt divine.

Wrath untied the robe and shrugged it off, letting it fall to the stone floor. Her skin caught the candlelight. Her eyes held fire.

Gods.

She stepped into us like a queen walking into her court. And we—six immortal embodiments of humanity’s most selfish urges—stood still, reverent, as she chose every one of us at once.

I kissed her first.

Pride’s hand found her hip.

Sloth knelt.

Greed exhaled her name like a curse.

Envy trembled.

Gluttony moved in as well like a moth to the flame. He’d offered his home, his hearth, his

hunger—as if she hadn’t already consumed us all.

When she let her eyes flutter closed and gave herself over to the moment, I knew?—

This wasn’t lust.

This was worship.

And as the first touch gave way to many, and skin met skin and magick bloomed, and Wrath herself arched into the fire we’d all carried for her?—

The world disappeared.

I kissed Wrath, her lips soft and warm against mine. She moaned into my mouth as Pride ran his hands up and down her sides, pulling her back flush against him.

Would we lay her down on the chaise and take turns? Or would I thrust into her as my brother’s hands roved over her breasts, or pumped in and out of her wet heat?—