"What have I done?"

Damon released her from his grasp, and despite the normal, obvious reaction being fear, or running away, fully in spite of his actions, even unintentional, as they were, she rushed him, hugging him without a care for what he’d been doing.

Slowly, matching his own diminishing faith in himself, his form began to shift, and shrink and after a moment, he was smaller than Dirpe, his dull eyes staring into nothingness, and as she coddled him eagerly, he just… He just couldn’t handle it, but he had to, cause what right did he have to feel discomfort? He’d just… If comforting him would make her feel better, he’d let her do it.

His other wives were watching on, while what had happened was awful, it seemed he was finally back, as they rushed him, and his currently miniscule form, curled in a ball in sorrow, as it were.

Dirpe was staring at him with a devious grin, “Myaster, Dirpes fine, don’t worry.” She spoke affectionately, before grabbing the shrunken Damon and flying away faster than anyone could react, with him in her grasp.

As she was rushing away, she closed her eyes, concentrating on performing magic, and then, poof. In a puff of purplish smoke, they disappeared from view.

Dirpe appeared in one of the basement levels, with the miniscule Damon within her draconic hands, she began circling a random spot, before placid him gently within her grasp, she nuzzled him as if he hadn’t just nearly killed her.

Was she really okay? But his concern was inconsequential. If she wanted him here, he surely couldn’t be the one to deny her requests. Most certainly not.

Slowly, as he was held in the embrace of Dirpe, he fell into a slumber, and as she watched him, idly pawing his form, she began infusing mana into another spell she didn't even know.

But this time, as the concept was far easier than healing him from the eldritch slumber, Damon slowly began to grow in size, and in an instant, deriving itself from Fae magic, he was fifteen feet tall once again, as Dirpe crawled her way to his chest, curling her Draconic form into a cozy ball, before falling into a slumber.

…

Less than ten minutes later, the entourage of concerned wives arrived in the basement room, but upon viewing Dirpe’s and Damon’s sleeping arrangements, they chose to join them, laying beside Damon’s restored form.

They were all ecstatic at Damon’s reawakening, but were worried sick for his actions, Dirpe admittedly had no cares for the incident, but Damon was truly distraught over his actions, which, while it brought some level of assurance in their choices, that was grossly overshadowed by their despair over Damon’s condition.

Luckily, whatever had beset Damon had passed, leaving the relieved group to entangle themselves over Damon’s inert form.

…

Six hours had passed, Damon slowly **** his eyes open, drowsy from some exertion he had no recollection of. He clumsily grasped the sopping ground, bringing his lethargic torso to an upright position.

It was as if he had been black out drunk, or even ****, but those wouldn’t even really affect him, at the very least not this hard.

As he raised his form, a tuckered out Dirpe slid from her resting position on his stomach, and she began to slide down, before he grabbed her with weary arms, he softly set her to the side.

His gaze wandered for a moment, before settling on his familiar, beautiful wives, but what wasn’t usual?

They were all naked. As was Damon, he slowly and suddenly realized.

Even though in his youth, Clark had been quite popular, he was never the best with girls, making his entire way to college without a single girlfriend. And even at college, he wasn’t the most vocal. And then to add on to everything else, he was injured, basically kicked from the team, and despite it not being his fault, had basically become a reject.

And even in this world, he’d basically avoided the thought, mostly caught up in his bloodlust, but now? A different, more appealing lust had appeared. Was THAT really the answer to his qualms? He was happy if it was, as he slowly rose from his seated position.

If this was the best remedy for his stress, who was he to argue with some of the most enticing women he’d ever really seen?