save her

The moment the centaur staggered, the twins moved.

Kiki hit first.

She tore the fallen shield from the ground with a roar, its weight enormous even for her reinforced steel etched with holy sigils , and threw herself between the centaur and the alpha werewolf just as its claws came down.

CRAAAAANG !

The impact rang through the forest like a struck bell.

Kiki skidded backward several feet, boots digging furrows into the earth, arms screaming in protest but she held.

Her tusks bared.

Her eyes burned.

“NO,” Kiki snarled. “You do not hurt pretty horse lady.”

The werewolf recoiled, shocked just long enough.

Because Koko had dropped to her knees, palms pressed flat to the forest floor.

Her tattoos flared.

Her voice changed.

Low. Echoing. Not quite her own.

“Ancestors,” Koko whispered.

“Spirits of root and stone. Hear me.”

The ground answered.

The earth buckled violently beneath the werewolves’ feet. Thick roots burst upward, coiling around legs, torsos, necks dragging several beasts screaming into the soil as if the forest itself were swallowing them whole.

One werewolf tried to leap free

A stone hand formed from the ground and closed around its ankle, slamming it down hard enough to shatter bone.

Koko’s breath came fast now. Blood trickled from her nose this magic was heavy, far beyond what she usually called but she didn’t stop.

“Stay good doggies,” she commanded.

They stayed.

Alice reached the centaur just as another werewolf lunged

A spear of light flashed past Alice’s shoulder, impaling the beast midair.

The centaur collapsed to one knee.

Up close, she looked impossibly pretty her unicorn half trembling, armor cracked and dented, blood matting her pale coat. Her breathing was shallow, uneven.

Alice dropped beside her instantly, hands glowing as she poured healing mana into shattered muscle and torn flesh.

“I’ve got you,” Alice said desperately.

“I-I can heal you just stay with me ”

The magic worked.

Slowly.

Too slowly.

Bones knit partially. Bleeding slowed. Pain dulled.

But the damage was immense far beyond what a level 12 healer could fully mend.

The centaur’s hand closed around Alice’s wrist, surprisingly gentle despite the chaos.

“…Enough,” she said softly.

Her voice trembled shy, strained, but steady.

She turned her head slightly, meeting Alice’s eyes.

“My name… is Lady Lunaneska.”

Even wounded, her presence was overwhelming a holy knight battered but unbroken.

“You saved me,” Lunaneska whispered. “Thank you.”

Another howl echoed through the forest.

More movement in the shadows.

Kiki braced her shield again, breathing hard but grinning fiercely.

“They’re not done,” she growled. “But neither are we.”

Koko staggered to her feet, eyes glowing faintly, sweat pouring down her face.

“Forest listens,” she said. “But spirits tired. We must end this.”

Alice swallowed.

She could feel it the truth of it.

She couldn’t fully heal Lunaneska.

Not yet.

But she could keep her alive.

And with the centaur paladin still standing even wounded the werewolves hesitated now. The pack had lost too many.

The forest crackled with tension.

The howl that followed wasn’t rage.

It was command.

The largest of the werewolves stepped forward from the shadows, towering even over the others, fur matted with blood and sap. His eyes locked onto the group calculating.

The alpha.

He raised one clawed hand.

The pack froze.

For a long, terrible moment, the forest held its breath.

Then the alpha lowered his arm.

One by one, the werewolves peeled away into the darkness, melting between trees, leaping into shadows, their glowing eyes winking out like dying embers. Leaves rustled. Branches cracked. Silence followed.

The alpha remained.

He stared at them.

Not at Alice.

At the centaur.

A slow, almost respectful nod followed then he turned and vanished, his massive form swallowed by the forest as if it had never been there at all.

The moment he disappeared, Lunaneska collapsed.

Her legs buckled completely, armor crashing into the earth as she hit her knees and then slumped forward, her lance slipping from numb fingers.

“Lunaneska!” Alice was there instantly, hands glowing again then flickering.

Nothing.

Her mana sputtered uselessly.

“Oh no no no no ” Alice pressed her hands to Lunaneska’s side, panic rising as she scanned the damage.

The wounds were deep. Ragged. And one along her flank was wrong.

The flesh around it was darkened, veins branching outward like rot through marble. The holy glow around Lunaneska’s armor had dimmed to almost nothing.

Alice’s breath hitched.

“Poison,” she whispered. “Or infection. Something on their claws.”

Lunaneska tried to laugh.

It came out as a weak, breathless sound.

“Hah… of course they had poison,” she murmured. “I approve.”

Alice stared at her.

“…You approve?”

Lunaneska smiled faintly, eyes half-lidded despite the pain.

“It hurts,” she admitted softly. “Quite badly, actually.”

She swallowed, cheeks flushing just a little.

“…I might even pass out. That would be terribly embarrassing.”

Alice snapped back to focus.

“We have to move. Now,” she said sharply, turning to the twins. “I can’t fix this. Not here. She needs a high-tier healer We need to get her to the city immediately.”

Kiki didn’t hesitate.

She slid an arm beneath Lunaneska’s shoulders, the other under her waist, and lifted.

Metal groaned.

Armor plates shifted.

Lunaneska let out a surprised noise as she was raised off the ground, full plate and all.

“O-oh my you’re very strong ” she said, breathless, voice wavering between shock and something dangerously close to delight.

Koko steadied her from the other side, adjusting her grip effortlessly.

“Do not struggle,” Koko said firmly. “Wife says run.”

And run they did.

The forest swallowed them.

They moved fast, Kiki and Koko carrying Lunaneska as though she weighed nothing, Alice sprinting ahead, heart pounding, every shadow a threat.

In the darkness, the forest revealed its true nature.

A massive spider shifted in its web above them, unseen eyes tracking movement.

A tree turned, bark splitting as something inside it flexed then stilled again as they passed.

Roots writhed. Branches creaked. Something enormous moved far off to the left.

They didn’t stop.

They didn’t slow.

Through it all, Lunaneska clung weakly to Kiki’s shoulder, breath shallow but stubborn.

“…Please,” she murmured after a moment. “Call me Luna.”

Alice glanced back mid-run. “What?”

“My name,” Luna said softly. “Lunaneska is… formal. And I might die. I don’t want to die being formal.”

Alice swallowed hard.

“…Okay. Luna.”

Luna smiled, eyes half-closed.

“Oh good,” she breathed. “That’s much nicer.”

She shifted slightly despite her injuries, voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper.

“…Also, please don’t be alarmed. but this is… surprisingly stimulating.”

Alice nearly tripped.

Kiki snorted.

Koko glanced down at her, expression unreadable.

“…She is strange.”

Luna chuckled weakly.

“I’m a paladin,” she said. “We’re all strange.”

Ahead, through the trees, light appeared.

White stone. Glowing bridges. Towers rising like prayers into the sky.

The city.

Alice’s chest tightened with relief and fear all at once.

“Hold on,” Alice whispered, more to herself than anyone else.

“We’re almost there.”

Dawn crested the horizon in a wash of gold.

The first light struck the city all at once marble towers igniting, cathedral spires catching the sun and throwing it back in blinding brilliance. Stained-glass windows bloomed with color as the light passed through them, scattering reds, blues, and violets across the streets like falling petals.

Alice slowed despite herself.

“Oh…” she breathed.

For a heartbeat, exhaustion fell away. The night, the forest, the fear all of it dissolved beneath the sheer beauty of the place. The city looked sacred. Untouchable.

She didn’t notice the tension until it snapped.

“Stop.”

The word rang sharp and cold.

Kiki halted instantly. Koko did the same, both of them freezing mid-step Luna still cradled between them, her armor smeared with blood and dirt. Alice stumbled a half-step forward before realizing she’d been separated from them.

She turned.

Elven guards stood barring the road.

They wore polished white armor chased with gold filigree, helms shaped like leaves and wings, spears lowered just enough to make the threat unmistakable. Their expressions were tight, eyes narrowed not with caution, but with something older.

Disgust. Fear. Instinct.

Their gazes locked on Kiki and Koko.

One guard’s lip curled before he could stop it.

“Orcs,” he said flatly. “You will go no further.”

Alice’s heart dropped.

“What no, wait !” she started, stepping back toward them.

A spear shifted, blocking her path.

Luna stirred weakly in Kiki’s arms.

“Please,” she said, voice strained but clear. “They are not enemies. They saved my life.”

The guards stiffened.

Their attention snapped to Luna and their reactions fractured.

One looked away sharply, jaw tight. Another made a quiet warding gesture. A third stared openly, expression torn between reverence and revulsion.

“A centaur,” one murmured under his breath.

“Holy blood,” another whispered.

“An abomination,” a third replied coldly.

Luna winced not from pain this time.

Alice clenched her fists.

“They need help,” Alice said, forcing her voice steady. “She’s poisoned. She’s out of mana. She won’t last long without treatment.”

The lead guard hesitated just a fraction.

Then his gaze returned to Kiki and Koko.

“There are no orcs in this city,” he said. “And there will not be.”

Kiki’s jaw tightened. Koko said nothing, her grip on Luna firm but careful.

“They are my companions,” Luna said, breath hitching. “And she ” she nodded weakly toward Alice, “ is my healer.”

The guard exhaled slowly.

“You bring ill omens with you,” he said. “A centaur. Orcs. And a human bearing orc stench.”

Alice flinched.

“But,” he continued, “we will not let one of the Star-Blooded die at our gates.”

He pointed down a side road, away from the city walls.

“There is an inn beyond the outer gardens. Old. Neutral ground. A healer there powerful, and unaligned.”

His eyes hardened again.

“You will go there. All of you. You will not enter the city.”

Alice opened her mouth to argue

Luna shook her head weakly.

“It’s… fine,” she whispered. “Please. I don’t want… to die arguing with elves.”

Kiki adjusted her hold gently.

“We go,” she said simply.

The guards stepped aside not in welcome, but in dismissal.

As they passed, Alice felt their stares burn into her back.

Hatred. Fear. Reverence. Revulsion.

All at once.

Beyond the road, the city continued to gleam distant bells chiming softly as morning fully broke.

But the path they were sent down curved away from the light.

The road dipped gently as it curved away from the city, the marble towers slipping behind them until the light softened and the world grew quieter.

Alice walked close to Kiki and Koko, arms wrapped around herself cold, and nerves. Her thoughts kept circling back to the gate.

(I don’t get it…)

She’d seen prejudice before guild politics, species bias, the usual mess but the elves’ reaction had been visceral. Immediate. Like something hardwired.

Orcs weren’t native to this dungeon. They weren’t native to this world at all. The only ones those guards could possibly have encountered were adventurers, or world Immigrants. People like Kiki and Koko.

So why the hate?

Alice glanced up at her wives. They hadn’t said a word since leaving the gate, but neither looked surprised. If anything, they seemed… resigned.

The thought made something tight coil in her chest.

The trees thinned as the road widened, and then the inn came into view.

Alice blinked.

“Oh…”

It wasn’t some rundown roadside shack like she’d half-expected. The building sat comfortably among tall pines, warm lantern light glowing from every window. Three stories tall, built of thick, polished logs fitted together with almost obsessive care, its roof sloped steeply and shingled in dark cedar. Wide stone steps led up to a heavy front door carved with flowing designs of leaves, moons, and intertwined animals.

It looked… expensive.

quiet, intentional luxury.

The kind of place that smelled like hearth smoke, clean linens, and mulled wine.

Koko tilted her head, golden eyes scanning the structure. “House feels… calm.”

Kiki nodded. “Safe place.”

Alice felt some of the tension bleed out of her shoulders.

If the elves wouldn’t have them, at least this place didn’t feel hostile. The light spilling from the windows was warm, and the air smelled faintly of pine resin and something sweet baked bread, maybe.

She glanced down at Luna, still held carefully between her wives. The centaur’s breathing was shallow but steady, her face pale beneath the dried blood.

“Hold on,” Alice whispered, more to herself than anyone else. “Please just… hold on.”

They climbed the steps together.

Warmth rolled over Alice like a blanket the moment the door closed behind them. The inn was alive, but gently so: low conversation, the crackle of a massive stone fireplace, the rich scent of roasting meat, bread, and spiced wine. Lanterns hung from dark beams, their light golden and forgiving, and the walls were lined with carved wood and woven tapestries.

It was… cozy. Disarmingly so.

Elves sat at long tables alongside armored adventurers, some laughing quietly, others nursing drinks with tired smiles. No one stared. No one shouted. A few curious glances flicked toward Kiki and Koko but they passed without comment, more wary than hostile, quickly returning to mugs and meals.

A violin sang somewhere near the back of the room.

The music was slow and warm, heavy with strings, weaving through the inn like a living thing. It made Alice’s shoulders loosen before she realized.

Then a voice cut through the murmur.

“Well now what have we here?”

The inn mistress approached, wiping her hands on a towel. She was an elf but unlike any Alice had ever seen. Shorter than most, broad-hipped and soft around the middle, her ears adorned with simple gold rings. Her smile was kind, practiced, and sharp-eyed all at once the look of someone who had seen everything and judged very little.

Alice blinked. (A chubby elf wtf?)

The thought felt almost surreal.

The woman’s gaze flicked immediately to Luna, still cradled between Kiki and Koko, and her expression shifted into brisk concern.

“Fireplace,” she said, already moving. “Bring her there. Gently.”

They did as instructed, laying Luna down on a thick, plush rug directly before the hearth. The fire’s glow bathed the centaur in amber light, steam hissing faintly as the cold left her armor.

The inn mistress knelt briefly, checking Luna’s breathing, then straightened.

“You did right bringing her here,” she said. “Our healer will be down shortly. They’re… a bit preoccupied at the moment.”

As if on cue, a moan drifted down from the upper floor.

Soft. Rhythmic.

Alice’s brain immediately supplied the wrong conclusion.

“O-oh !” she started, flustered. “S-someone’s hurt upstairs?”

Kiki tilted her head, listening.

Koko didn’t even blink.

“That not pain,” Koko said calmly. “That love.”

Kiki nodded, utterly confident. “Very enthusiastic love.”

Alice’s face went scarlet.

“Oh,” she squeaked, pulling her cloak tighter around herself for no reason at all. “I I see.”

The inn mistress chuckled, utterly unbothered. “Healers are people too, dear. Sometimes they finish one kind of… treatment before another.”

(Tell me about it)

She stood, clapping her hands once. “Make yourselves comfortable. Drinks are on the house while you wait.”

As the violin swelled and the fire popped, Alice knelt beside Luna, brushing damp hair from the centaur’s brow, her embarrassment slowly giving way to relief.

The footsteps on the stairs were uneven.

Alice looked up from where Luna lay near the fire as something soft and faintly glowing descended from the upper floor. The music faltered for half a second as several patrons glanced over then promptly looked away again, pretending very hard not to stare.

He was… fluffy.

That was the first thing Alice’s brain supplied, unhelpfully.

A cute chimerian femboy, fox-dog mix, with oversized ears drooping slightly and a thick, expressive tail swaying behind him. His fur was pale with pink accents, almost luminous in the firelight, and his movements had a loose, floaty quality.

He was dressed in white robes loose, layered, and similar in cut to Alice’s own healer robes.

They were… not doing their job.

The fabric hung wrong. Damp. slick.

Jizz clung to him in streaks, dripping lazily down one leg. A line of cum leaked from one ear, trailing into his fur. His pupils were blown wide, his cheeks flushed pink, and he looked vaguely blissed out humming under his breath as if the world were a very pleasant song.

Alice felt it before The system registered it.

Her panel chimed softly.

Her chest tightened.

That pull.

The familiar, humiliating resonance that made her stomach flip and her mana stir.

(…No way.)

Her Trait responded instinctively.

Healing Synergy (Compatible Class Signature)

Her breath caught.

Healer.

heal slut like her.

Before Alice could say anything, someone at a nearby table cleared their throat.

“Ahem. You, uh your ear.”

The chimerian froze.

Absolutely locked up.

His ears shot straight up. His tail fluffed violently. His eyes snapped into focus, horror dawning across his face in real time.

He looked down.

Looked at the cum.

Looked back up.

“I– I– IT’S NOT WHAT IT LOOKS LIKE!” he snapped, voice cracking as he crossed his arms defensively. “I was–! I mean–! That is to say–!”

He spun on his heel, back to the fireplace, cheeks burning so red Alice swore she could see heat shimmering off them.

“D-Don’t stare! Perverts! This is a Medically necessary for Mana!” he huffed, absolutely radiating tsundere panic.

Kiki blinked.

Koko leaned closer to Alice, whispering with absolute certainty, “He smells like kennel bitch in heat.”

Alice nearly died on the spot.

“I I do not !” he started, then stopped himself, mortified, as the healer’s resonance pulsed again between them.

His ears flattened.

His tail went rigid.

His expression collapsed into pure, secondhand embarrassment.

He slumped against the banister dramatically. “I knew letting Arthur book the upstairs room was a mistake.”

From behind them, the innkeeper laughed warm, unbothered, already fetching clean towels and gesturing for space to be cleared by the fire.

“Don’t mind him,” the curvy elf said cheerfully. “He’s a great healer. Brilliant one, too. Just… very popular.”

The chimerian made a strangled noise.

Alice felt her mana settle uneasy, but steadier now that help was here.

She glanced down at Luna, then back up at the flustered fox-dog healer, and took a small breath.

“…Hi,” she said softly. “I’m Alice. And we really need help.”

He hesitated.

Then sighed.

“…Yeah,” he muttered, rolling his shoulders and stepping forward, professional instincts finally winning. “Yeah. I can see that.”

He knelt by Luna’s side, expression sharpening as he examined the wound

Koko didn’t like leaving Alice behind.

Even knowing she was in capable hands, even knowing the other healer carried the same strange resonance, the same burdened warmth in his mana, it set her tusks on edge. Still, Alice had insisted, gently but firmly, that they give her space to work.

So Koko nodded.

Kiki followed.

They carried Luna up the stairs first, carefully, reverently, settling her into a wide bed layered in thick quilts that smelled faintly of cedar. The centaur murmured something half-dreamed as they laid her down, tail flicking weakly once before going still.

After that, the room felt… quiet.

Downstairs, the inn hummed with life. Laughter. Music. The clink of mugs. A hearth that crackled with comforting flame.

Kiki and Koko claimed a small table near the wall, backs to the room, instincts old and ingrained keeping them alert even as the innkeeper brought drinks without comment. Something warm. Spiced. Strong enough to bite.

Kiki wrapped her fingers around the mug but didn’t drink right away.

Her eyes kept drifting toward the stairs.

“She trusts us,” Kiki said at last, voice low.

Koko hummed in agreement, “She trusts too easy. Soft heart.”

“Not weak,” Kiki corrected immediately.

Koko nodded. “Never weak.”

They sat with that for a moment.

Then Kiki spoke again, quieter. “Centaur strong. Brave. Good heart.”

Koko glanced at her sideways. “…You thinking party.”

“Yes.”

“…And more.”

Kiki didn’t deny it.

“She fought for wife,” Kiki said. “Did not run. Did not leave us. That matters.”

Koko took a slow drink, eyes thoughtful. “You think adding her will not hurt Alice.”

“I think,” Kiki said carefully, choosing each word like a stone placed in a river, “that Alice gives too much. If more people take… she may break.”

Koko’s grip tightened on her mug. “That is what I fear.”

Silence stretched between them, heavy but not hostile. It wasn't an argument.

“We have been hurt,” Koko said softly. “Used. Promised safety, given chains. I will not do that to her.”

“Never,” Kiki agreed at once.

They both looked down at their hands then, scarred and strong.

“If Alice wants,” Koko continued, “we listen. We protect. But we do not push.”

Kiki exhaled slowly. “You think I am greedy.”

Koko met her gaze. “I think you are hopeful.”

Kiki huffed a quiet laugh at that, shoulders easing just a little.

“Hope dangerous,” Kiki admitted.

“But necessary,” Koko replied.

They clinked their mugs together gently, a small ritual, a promise.

“No hurting wife,” Kiki said.

“Never hurting wife,” Koko echoed.

From upstairs, faint footsteps sounded. Movement. Life continuing.

Koko’s ears flicked toward the sound. “Whatever comes… we face it together.”

Kiki nodded, jaw set, eyes fierce with devotion. “Always.”

Kiki was the one who broke the quiet this time.

“There is… another reason,” she said, staring into her mug. “Why we keep stopping.”

Koko’s ears twitched. “Mm.”

Kiki glanced at her sister. “Alice thinks it is just… waiting. Teasing. Tradition.”

“It is tradition,” Koko said calmly. “Just not only that.”

They sat shoulder to shoulder, the firelight painting their skin gold and green.

“In clan,” Koko continued, voice low, “you do not put seed in wife without permission. Either from her mother… or from the chief.”

Koko nodded. “Children belong to clan, not just parents. Strong children come from patience. From hunger. From wanting.”

Kiki’s mouth curved faintly. “Leave wife needy. Make bond deeper. Make body ready.”

Koko took a slow drink. “Alice is very ready.”

That earned a quiet huff of laughter from Kiki.

“But,” Kiki added, more hesitant now, “there is also the other problem.”

Koko’s jaw tightened just a fraction. “…Yes.”

They both knew it.

Silence stretched, thick with something sharp and honest.

“I do not want you to father first,” Kiki said plainly.

Koko snorted. “Good. Because I do not want you to.”

Their eyes met. Not angry. Just intense.

“It would hurt,” Koko admitted. “If your child came first. If Alice looked at you like that before me.”

Kiki’s fingers curled around her mug. “Same.”

They sat with that jealousy, unashamed of it. In orc culture, it wasn’t something ugly. It was proof of care.

“The only fair way,” Koko said slowly, “is to let Alice choose.”

Kiki grimaced. “Unfair to ask.”

“She would worry,” Koko agreed. “Think she is hurting one of us.”

“And she would,” Kiki said quietly. “Even if we say she is not.”

That left them stuck.

An impasse, as clean and immovable as stone.

Kiki leaned back in her chair, staring up at the beams of the ceiling. “After first, though… it will be easy.”

Koko nodded immediately. “We take turns.”

“Many turns,” Kiki added.

Koko’s flicked her pigtails with amusement. “Large family.”

“Very large.”

They began listing names without even thinking about it, voices soft and casual, like they were talking about the weather.

“Gorasha,” Kiki said.

“Too loud,” Koko replied. “For first child.”

“Then Morakai.”

“That one is good. Strong.”

“Twin girls named Vesha and Veshka.”

Koko smiled. “Ten children at least.”

“More if Alice wants,” Kiki said without hesitation.

The words hung there.

Then, slowly, both of them froze.

Koko blinked. “…We did not ask Alice.”

Kiki’s ears flattened in sudden embarrassment. “…We should ask Alice.”

They stared at each other.

Then both laughed low, awkward, a little sheepish.

“She probably wants a say,” Koko admitted.

“Yes,” Kiki agreed. “She names things carefully. Like spells.”

Koko smiled softly, gaze drifting back toward the stairs. “She will blush.”

“She always blushes,” Kiki said fondly.

Kiki stretched, rolling her shoulders as she watched the fire crackle. “We should talk about something else.”

Koko glanced sideways. “You mean before we start arguing again?”

Kiki huffed. “We do that too much when wife is not here.”

“But,” Koko said gently, “we still need to talk. Just… not forget she needs space.”

Kiki nodded. “Wife is not prey animal. She comes when ready.”

They sat in companionable quiet for a moment, then Kiki spoke again.

“I do not think she needs to learn to fight.”

Koko turned toward her. “You think she is weak?”

Kiki bristled instantly. “No. I think we are strong enough.”

She tapped her chest once, tusks flashing faintly in the firelight. “My body is for blocking blades. Yours is for breaking ground. Alice should not have to bleed like a warrior.”

Koko listened, then shook her head slowly. “Protecting does not mean locking her behind us.”

Kiki frowned.

“There is no harm,” Koko continued, “in wife learning how to stand. Even healers can fight. Magic does not only close wounds. It can burn. Shield. Bind.”

She gestured vaguely. “Battle-mage. War-healer. Something like that.”

Kiki crossed her arms. “She already nearly collapses when she pushes herself.”

“And she survives,” Koko replied softly. “Because she adapts.”

That gave Kiki pause.

“…You think she wants that?”

Koko shrugged.

Kiki sighed, rubbing her face. “We argue too much.”

Koko smiled faintly. “Yes.”

They both laughed under their breath, the tension easing.

“We must not smother her,” Kiki said, more quietly. “Even if we want to.”

“She will come to us,” Koko agreed. “Especially now.”

They exchanged a look then both looked away, embarrassed.

“She chose us,” Kiki muttered. “All of us.”

Koko’s ears warmed. “She wants more.”

They sat there blushing like fools, shoulders hunched.

After a moment, Kiki cleared her throat. “There is one thing we agree on.”

Koko straightened. “Yes.”

“We need to be stronger,” Kiki said firmly. “For her.”

“So strong,” Koko added, “that no one ever looks at her and thinks she is unguarded.”

Kiki’s eyes gleamed. “A few more levels.”

Koko smiled, sharp and knowing. “Then we can use the shop.”

Alice was still kneeling by the fire when heavy footsteps came from the stairs again.

Confident. Solid.

She looked up.

A tall chimeran paladin stepped down into the common room, adjusting his belt as he went. Golden retriever features softened by tiger-striped fur ran along his arms and flanks. His armor was immaculate despite the night’s chaos, polished plate catching the firelight with every step. A broad shield rested easily against one arm, and a massive hammer leaned behind him, as if it weighed nothing at all.

He looked… cheerful.

Unreasonably so.

Like a walking sunrise with abs.

“Oh!” he said brightly, spotting the group by the hearth. “Hey! You’re the ones with the centaur, right?”

Morgan made a strangled noise.

“Arthur !” he hissed, ears flattening. “You you don’t!”

Arthur blinked, then laughed, scratching the back of his head. “Huh? Why not? I already heard half the inn whispering figured the secret was out about your Mana recharge.”

Morgan went crimson.

Alice watched the exchange, blinking slowly as her brain tried to catch up.

(…Oh. Oh, they’re like that.)

Arthur’s eyes flicked to Morgan, “You okay?” he asked, voice dropping just a notch. “You slipped earlier.”

“I did not slip,” Morgan snapped automatically. “I I was busy. Healing. Important healing. Very… involved healing.”

Arthur nodded solemnly. “Yeah. I could tell.”

That somehow made it worse.

Morgan turned away, tail lashing, absolutely radiating mortified energy. “Don’t say it like that!”

Alice bit her lip.

Kiki leaned in from behind her and whispered, completely unhelpful, “They mates.”

Koko nodded. “Unclaimed. But circling.”

Alice nearly choked.

Arthur finally noticed Alice properly then, giving her a bright grin. “You must be the healer who brought Luna in. Nice work keeping her stable that long. That forest isn’t kind.”

Alice flushed, suddenly very aware of her own exhaustion. “I I did what I could. I’m only level twelve.”

Arthur’s eyebrows shot up. “Twelve?” He whistled. “That’s impressive as hell, actually.”

Morgan made a small noise of agreement despite himself.

(He’s… really nice. Big. Loud. Golden retriever energy incarnate.)

Morgan cleared his throat sharply. “Arthur is… very competent,” he said stiffly. “Despite appearances.”

Arthur grinned wider. “High praise.”

Morgan did not look pleased about having said it.

Alice watched them, the way Arthur hovered just a little too close, the way Morgan pretended not to notice but kept angling himself back into Arthur’s space anyway. The way neither of them seemed aware of what they were broadcasting.

(They’re a couple. They just… don’t know it yet.)

Arthur straightened, stretching with an audible crack. “I’ll stand watch outside once Luna’s settled. Wolves won’t come near the inn, but better safe than sorry.”

Morgan hesitated. “…You don’t have to.”

Arthur shrugged easily. “I want to.”

That did it.

Morgan’s tail puffed.

Alice looked away politely, giving them space, and caught Kiki and Koko exchanging a knowing glance.

Kiki smiled, tusks catching the firelight. “Big paladin protects small healer.”

Koko hummed. “Good pairing.”

Morgan took two steps away from the hearth.

Then his knees buckled.

Alice gasped and lunged forward just as Arthur caught him, one arm snapping around Morgan’s waist with practiced ease. The fox-dog chimera sagged instantly, ears drooping, tail going limp like someone had pulled the strings out of him.

“Oh shit,” Arthur muttered, steadying him. “Yeah. That tracks.”

Morgan tried to protest, the words coming out slurred and weak. “I’m I’m fine I just ”

“You’re empty,” Arthur said gently, pressing his forehead against Morgan’s for a brief second. “You burned everything stabilizing her.”

Alice felt the echo of it immediately.

That hollow, dizzy pull in the chest.

The weight behind the eyes.

Mana exhaustion.

The same kind she’d felt more than once already.

Arthur eased Morgan back down onto the rug near the fire, propping him up with rolled blankets. Morgan’s cheeks were flushed now, breath shallow, pupils unfocused in a way Alice recognized all too well.

Arthur exhaled slowly and looked up.

His gaze flicked from Alice… to Kiki… to Koko.

Then, hesitating.

“…Okay,” he said, voice quieter now. More serious. “I need to ask something, and I need an answer fast.”

Alice’s stomach dropped.

“Morgan’s class doesn’t regen mana normally,” Arthur continued. “I already noticed the resonance. Same as you.” He gave Alice a rueful half-smile. “Different flavor. Same rules.”

Alice swallowed.

Kiki and Koko both straightened slightly, alert.

“I’m tapped,” Arthur went on. “Completely. Normally I’m his battery, but tonight I’ve got nothing left to give.” He paused. “If he stays like this too long, he’ll crash hard. Fever, hallucinations, maybe worse.”

Silence settled over the hearth.

Arthur rubbed a hand over his face. “So… I’m asking. Are any of you willing to help him recover?”

Alice’s mind blanked.

Help meant sex.

Her face burned hot instantly.

The idea of being intimate with someone other than her wives felt… wrong. Not morally. Just emotionally. Like trying to wear someone else’s clothes after getting used to the shape of Kiki and Koko around her.

And the thought of her wives doing the same?

Her chest tightened.

She glanced at them, searching their faces.

Kiki looked surprised, brows knitting as she considered it. Not angry. Not offended. Just… cautious.

Koko’s expression was more guarded. Thoughtful. Protective.

Neither spoke.

Arthur noticed immediately and raised his hands. “Hey. I’m not demanding anything. If the answer’s no, we find another way. I just had to ask.”

Alice closed her eyes for half a second.

She thought about everything that had changed so quickly.

About how she’d embraced her bond with her wives.

About how important trust was to them.

About how easily something like this could hurt someone if handled wrong.

And about Morgan, pale and shaking, curled near the fire.

She inhaled slowly.

“…I need a moment,” Alice said quietly, voice trembling just a little. “I I can’t decide this alone.”

Kiki’s hand found hers immediately.

“We listen,” Kiki said softly.

Koko nodded. “Wife chooses. We follow.”

Arthur let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. “Okay,” he said. “Okay. Take the time you need.”

The fire crackled.

Morgan shifted weakly, murmuring something incoherent, and Alice felt the pull again that familiar healer’s instinct, mixed now with something far more complicated.

Whatever decision she made next was about what kind of future she and her wives were building together.