I belonged to them now.

I could feel it in the depths of my soul—a tether binding me to them, a link forged in the crucible of the night. It wasn’t just a promise, not just words spoken in the heat of the moment. It was a bond, an irrevocable connection that tied us together in ways I was only just beginning to understand.

Chamberlain, Atley, and Camber were still with me, their presence a steady, grounding force. They had watched over me as I drifted in and out of sleep, their eyes never leaving me, their touch never far. I was surrounded by them, cocooned in the safety of their presence, their heat seeping into me, warming me from the inside out.

I wasn’t sure when it happened, but at some point during the night, I had stopped fighting it. The fear, the uncertainty—it had all melted away, leaving behind only acceptance. I had wanted this, needed this, and now that it was mine, I couldn’t imagine being without it.

Without them.

They had always been around, protecting me, guiding me, but now, I belonged to them, and they, in turn, to me. It rang with a sense of finality, of fate.

The manor was silent now, the echoes of the night’s events fading into the shadows. I could hear the distant call of a bird, the rustle of leaves in the morning breeze. The world was waking up, but I felt like I was still caught in the remnants of a dream—a dark, twisted dream I never wanted to end.

Chamberlain stirred beside me, his hand brushing against my cheek. His touch was surprisingly tender, a stark contrast to the commanding force he had been during the night. His eyes, dark and intense, softened as they met mine, and for a moment, I saw something in them I hadn’t seen since we were children, something almost… gentle.

“You did well,” he murmured, his voice low, rough from the night’s exertions. “You’re stronger than you look.”

I managed a small smile, the compliment warming something inside me I hadn’t realized was cold. “You didn’t give me much choice.”

Atley chuckled from somewhere behind me, his laugh light and teasing, like the first hint of sunlight after a storm. “You could’ve run. You didn’t.”

I turned my head to see him leaning against the wall, his arms crossed over his chest, a lazy grin on his face. There was an ease to him, a lightness that contrasted sharply with the intensity of the night. But his eyes—they were still dark, stillholding that depth of something dangerous, and I realized, all at once, that Atley wasn’t high.

He hadn’t been since the party.

“Running wouldn’t have gotten me far,” I replied, my voice hoarse but steady. “Not with you three chasing me.”

Camber, who had been silent throughout the exchange, finally spoke, his voice a quiet rumble that seemed to reverberate through the room. “You didn’t run because you knew you belonged here.”

His words struck something deep within me, resonating with a truth I hadn’t wanted to face. He was right. I had known from the moment I met them as a child that I was theirs and there was no going back. I was theirs as much as they were mine, bound together by something far more powerful than anything I had ever known.

“Yeah,” I whispered, my voice barely audible in the stillness of the morning. “I knew.”

Chamberlain’s hand slid from my cheek to my neck, his thumb brushing against the pulse beating steadily beneath my skin. His touch was possessive, a reminder of everything he had claimed the night before. “You’re one of us now, Priestly,” he said, his voice soft but firm. “There’s no turning back.”

I nodded, the weight of his words settling over me like a shroud. I didn’t want to turn back. This was where I belonged, where I had always belonged, even if I hadn’t known it until now. The fear that had once gripped me was gone, replaced by something far stronger, far more enduring.

Acceptance.

Belonging.

Love, perhaps.

The thought startled me, but it felt right, felt true. What else could it be, this connection that bound us together so tightly?It wasn’t just desire, wasn’t just the thrill of the night. It was something deeper, something more.

Atley moved closer, his hand brushing against mine, his touch light and fleeting. “You’re not alone anymore, Priestly. You never have been,” he said, his voice low, almost reverent. “We’re with you—always.”

I turned my gaze to him and then to Camber, who was watching me with that same steady intensity. There was no need for words, no need to speak the promises already etched into our souls. We knew. We understood.

And that was enough.

The first rays of the sun broke through the shattered windows, casting the room in a warm, golden light. It felt like a new beginning, like the dawn of something waiting to be born. The shadows of the night receded, but they didn’t disappear. They lingered, a reminder of everything we had shared, everything we had become.

I was theirs, and they were mine.

And as the sun rose over Windsor Manor, I knew that whatever came next, whatever trials we faced, we would face them together.

We were bound—not by chains, but by choice.