The More I Invest in My Wives, the Stronger I Become

The monster dropped before anyone in the arena had time to process what happened.

One strike. That was all it took.

Julian rounded on him instantly, face tight with disbelief he was doing a poor job hiding. ”What kind of artifact did you use,” he demanded, voice pitched to carry, like the whole simulation chamber needed to hear him assert control over something he clearly didn’t understand.

Daemon didn’t flinch. ”I didn’t use an artifact. And if I had, I wouldn’t be telling you.” He held Julian’s stare until the other man broke first. ”Back off.”

The silence that followed did more damage to Julian than any comeback could have. Daemon watched the humiliation land in real time, spreading across Julian’s face as the rest of the team looked anywhere but at their captain.

The others warmed to him fast after that — quiet nods, a couple of genuinely impressed grins.

*Guess that’s one way to earn some respect.*

---

Team 33 cleared the round without a single injury, and everyone in the room knew exactly whose instincts had carried them there.

By the time the full candidate pool gathered in the main hall for results, the mood had split cleanly in two — relief on one side, quiet devastation on the other. Entire teams found themselves disqualified because one member had panicked at the wrong moment, dragging everyone else down with them.

*That’s the real lesson here,* Daemon thought, watching a captain console his crushed teammates a few rows over. *In an actual dungeon, one person’s mistake doesn’t just cost points. It costs lives.*

---

He was still turning that over when he spotted the person he’d promised to meet.

Roxana crossed the hall at a near-run, throwing her arms around him before he could get a word out. ”I passed, Daemon! I actually passed!”

He caught her, laughing, genuinely startled by how bright she looked — nothing like the tired woman he’d met in a C-Rank staging area weeks ago.

”Congratulations,” he said, squeezing her hand. ”Don’t get too comfortable, though. We’re not actually WHA Hunters yet.”

”I know, I know.” She straightened, expression sobering fast. ”We celebrate once we clear all three rounds. Properly.”

”Wise woman.”

---

Up in the observation room, Victoria had watched the entire fight unfold on the monitors, pride glowing warm in her chest as the feed replayed Daemon’s strike from three different angles.

”That’s my husband,” she said, to no one in particular.

Sana, standing beside her, turned so fast she nearly dropped her tablet. ”Your — *husband?* Victoria, if this is a joke—”

Victoria was already walking toward the door, unbothered.

Sana followed, mind racing. She knew Victoria. Knew she didn’t joke about things like that, didn’t lie, didn’t exaggerate for effect. Which meant—

*She’s serious.*

By the time the two of them left the control room, the staff who’d overheard were already whispering. Within minutes, it wasn’t a rumor contained to one hallway anymore. The Crimson Queen — married. To an E-Rank. Completing the selection test that very day.

The entire guild was talking about it before lunch even started.

---

Daemon had no idea any of it was happening.

He and Roxana were in the cafeteria line, trays loaded, scanning the crowded room for an open table, when two familiar faces waved them over.

Toren and Nessa. Mira right beside them.

”Come sit,” Toren said simply, sliding over to make room.

Daemon glanced at Roxana, who nodded, and they crossed over together. Introductions went around the table easily enough, the conversation settling into the comfortable rhythm of people who’d just survived something together.

They were mid-laugh over Nessa’s exaggerated retelling of Julian’s face when Daemon felt it — a prickle down his spine, sharp enough to stop him mid-bite.

*Someone’s watching me.*

He looked up. Half the cafeteria was already looking back, heads bent together in hushed conversation.

*What is happening right now.*

---

Then the noise around them died all at once.

Nessa, seated facing the entrance, went rigid. ”Is that— why is Victoria Hale walking over here—”

Daemon turned.

Victoria was already halfway across the room, smiling brighter than he’d ever seen her smile in public, and closed the last few steps to wrap her arms around him without a shred of hesitation.

*She doesn’t care who’s watching. Never has.*

*It’s one of the reasons I love her.*

He hugged her back without thinking twice, and the entire table — Roxana included — froze solid.

”So this is your husband, huh?”

Sana appeared behind Victoria’s shoulder, arms crossed, a grin doing absolutely nothing to hide how much she was enjoying this. ”Sana Whitlock. B-Rank, dagger and scout work, Victoria’s team. And apparently the last person in this building to find out she was married.”

”Daemon,” he offered, shaking her hand. ”Nice to meet you.”

---

Victoria and Sana settled in without asking, and introductions circled the table a second time — warmer this time, everyone still visibly recalibrating.

Then Victoria’s gaze landed on Roxana. ”You two seem close,” she said, light, curious. ”Did you know each other before today?”

Daemon felt his pulse spike.

*Careful. Careful. She gets territorial fast, and I’ve already taken one hit today.*

”We worked a dungeon together a while back,” he said smoothly. ”She’s the reason I’m even here — good friend.”

Victoria studied Roxana a moment longer, then let it go with an easy nod, apparently satisfied.

Daemon exhaled quietly, disaster narrowly avoided.

---

Roxana, meanwhile, was fighting a completely different battle.

*He’s married. To her. Victoria Hale. Of course he is.*

Something twisted in her chest, unfamiliar and unwelcome, and it took her a moment to recognize it for what it was.

*I’m jealous.*

She’d never felt anything like it before — not toward Garrick, not toward anyone. But sitting there, watching Daemon laugh easily with his wife, she found herself wanting to be closer to him too, in a way she had no business wanting.

She shook her head hard and buried herself in her food instead, letting Daemon’s conversation with Victoria and Sana fade into background noise she refused to examine too closely.

---

From across the cafeteria, one man watched the entire scene without touching his tray.

Kael’s expression stayed perfectly composed on the outside — a faint, unreadable smile, nothing anyone passing by would look twice at.

Inside, something far uglier was burning.

*Her. Smiling like that. For him.*

*I lost her to a nobody.*

His jaw tightened, the smile never wavering.

*Fine. Enjoy today, Daemon Miles.*

*Round two is in a dungeon. And accidents happen in dungeons all the time.*