Every silver chain and necklace in the room showed thick cracks that glowed and pulsed against skin. The anti-magic was no longer hidden.
Twenty women stood in a wide circle around the dais. Their husbands knelt or stood right behind them. Every husband's cock stayed locked in its metal cage, the tip already wet and dripping down his thigh.
Aiden stepped to the edge of the dais. He had no shirt on. His trousers hung open. His cock stood thick and hard. The silver fractures ran up his chest and along his jaw, bright as fresh welds.
"Tonight is the Fourth Claiming," he said. His voice cut straight through the room. "The light has grown too loud. I will quiet it with my cock. Isolde will pick the order and the positions. Every woman gets claimed right here where everyone can see.
Your husbands will hold you open, watch every inch, and thank me when I finish inside you."
He looked at Isolde. "Choose."
