Keep it secret

It wasn’t that Alice thought Leo would never find out.

It was that she was gambling he wouldn’t care or at least, not hate her considering Leo's fetishes, he might even like it..

Norki slept nearby, curled under a blanket that barely reached his knees, tail flicking softly with every dream. His hair shimmered faintly in the lamplight, and something about the quiet rise and fall of his chest made Alice’s pulse twist into knots.

She sat upright on her mat, staring down at the faint glow of the brand below her navel. It didn’t hurt anymore. It didn’t even hum. Just… watched.

She rubbed her temples. “You’re an idiot,” she muttered under her breath.

But she didn’t stop watching him.

Norki was sweet, clumsy, awkward, the total opposite of Leo’s blinding confidence. The boy blushed when she touched his hand, stammered when she teased him, and looked at her like she was beautiful. It was intoxicating.

She didn’t love him the way she loved Leo, not with lust and passion this was different, quieter, gentler. It made her feel things that terrified her.

And maybe that’s why she kept coming back.

Every night, after the wounded were healed and the lanterns dimmed, she found herself returning to Norki even when her mana wasn't running low.

She was cheating on Leo with both her body and her heart but she couldn't bring herself to stop

A faint shimmer flickered at the edge of her vision.

[Dice: Wow. You’re really doing it. Love triangle speedrun, any% complete.]

Alice groaned softly. “Don’t start.”

[Dice: Oh no, please carry on. This is the good stuff. The tragic hero torn between the cocky knight and the bashful goblin boy. Chef’s kiss.]

She rolled over, pulling the furs over her head. “You’re disgusting.”

[Dice: Honest. You’re just upset because I’m narrating what you already know. You’re in love, and you’re a liar. Both can be true.]

The text lingered a moment too long, shimmering faintly gold before fading.

Alice let out a breath she didn’t realize she was holding.

Her heart ached.

The months came and went quietly and before she knew it her year of servitude was already nearly halfway done.

The forge fires still burned, the drums still beat, and Fangspire still stank of smoke and iron. But for Alice, the rhythms of captivity had changed. They’d settled into something almost… familiar.

The triage tent no longer smelled like blood and panic. Now it smelled like herbs, bandages, and the faint sweetness of moss tea. Norki’s moss tea.

He’d gotten better at brewing it over the months too good, really. Every morning started with the same ritual: him humming softly as he poured it, her pretending not to stare at the way the steam around his hair.

Outside, orcs came and went in steady procession. Hunters with burns from the Ignis Beast. Scouts with half healed claw wounds. None of them flirted anymore. Instead, they’d grin when they saw her and nudge each other like children.

“Morning, healer,” one rumbled. “Where’s your little goblin husband?”

Alice turned pink every time. “He’s not-”

“He’s fetching herbs,” another would interrupt with a grin. “Ahh, love makes a man busy, eh?”

Even the goblins had joined in, whistling as they passed the tent flap. It was a running joke now-one she tried not to encourage but never quite managed to stop.

Everyone knew.

Everyone except Leo.

Or at least, she prayed he didn’t.

Jolie knew, of course. How could she not? Sharing a tent meant sharing secrets, and after the first time she’d “accidentally” walked in on them tangled up together, she’d stopped pretending to be surprised that they were sneaking off to have fun that had nothing to do with recharging mana.

Now she just rolled her eyes every time Alice tried to deny it. “You know,” she said one night, brushing her hair by the firelight, “for someone trying to keep a secret, you’re really bad at sneaking around.”

Alice had groaned into her hands. “You could at least pretend not to know.”

“Sweetheart,” Jolie said, “half the camp hears you two at night.”

Alice had thrown a pillow at her. It didn’t help. Jolie laughed until she cried.

Even Norki had stopped trying to hide it. He still blushed every time someone called Alice his mate, but he didn’t deny it anymore. He just smiled in that small, quiet way of his, tail twitching behind him.

Sometimes, in the rare still moments between patients, Alice caught herself wondering when exactly she’d stopped trying to keep her distance. When “just a mana transfer” became waking up to find his tail curled around her leg.

And through it all, not a word from Yamaba.

Every attempt to contact her through the System went unanswered. Even Dice had gone silent about it. Whatever was happening in the Warchief’s tent, Fangspire wasn’t talking.

At night, Alice lay awake listening to Norki’s steady breathing beside her, the glow of the brand faint under her skin. It didn’t burn anymore. It didn’t whisper or punish. It just pulsed faintly, like it was waiting for something.

The southern front burned.

Not from torches or siege fire, but from the monster Yamaba had learned to guide. The orcs called it the Ignis Beast the walking inferno, the cursed wolf. What had once been their doom had become her instrument.

Each night, under her direction, the creature struck the enemy encampments. She’d learned how to steer it, lure it with bait, and let it loose where it would do the most damage. What had begun as chaos was now calculated devastation.

The Warchief was pleased. His conquests spread faster than the flames.

Yamaba should have felt satisfaction. Triumph. But all she felt was exhaustion and the constant, gnawing hunger the brand had built inside her.

The mark no longer burned when she disobeyed. It pulsed when she craved. When she went too long without the Warchief’s scent without himher thoughts blurred, her limbs trembled, her mind splintered into static. The first time it had happened, she thought it was poison. Now she knew better.

She needed him to think clearly. She needed his cum to function.

And that was the cruelest part. The brand didn’t make her love him. It made her depend on him.

Every morning, she **** herself to believe it was normal. A cup of his extremely thick, sticky boar batter prepared by the shaman, drunk under the pretense of ritual devotion. The others in the harem called it “the Lord’s strength.” Yamaba just called it survival at first it was extremely hard to **** down but now she found herself lip licking her cup clean each morning.

Today, the Warchief’s laughter filled the command tent as messengers reported another victory. His armies had driven back three rival clans in a single week. He stood bare chested over the map table, muscles slick with sweat, golden eye gleaming like molten metal.

“You’ve outdone yourself,” he said at last, voice rumbling low. “Even the shamans speak of your cunning. You’ve turned the flames of the enemy into my banner.”

Yamaba bowed, keeping her gaze low. “Your enemies burn because they refuse your wisdom, Warchief.”

He grinned, tusks flashing. “You flatter me, little witch. You think I do not hear the hunger in your voice?”

Her pulse jumped, and she **** herself to keep her tone steady. “I serve you. That is all.”

He circled her slowly, like a predator weighing a catch. The scent of iron and musk rolled off him in suffocating waves. Yamaba’s head swam, her thighs pressed together involuntarily. The brand pulsed, not with pain but with pleasure.

He leaned close enough for his breath to brush her ear. “I think it is time you were rewarded.”

Her heart tripped. Rewarded. The word slithered through her thoughts like a serpent. She already knew what that usually meant or thought she did. Her mouth went dry. “As my lord wishes,” she murmured, forcing her tone into calm submission.

Korgul chuckled a low, knowing sound that made her skin crawl and her belly twist with unwelcome heat.

But then, instead of touching her or issuing the command she’d braced herself for, he said something that froze her heart.

“You will not come to my bed tonight,” he said. “You will come with me to the prisoner’s quarter.”

Yamaba blinked, her voice barely more than a breath. “Prisoners?”

“One of them wears your eyes,” Korgul said simply. His tusked smile curved into something both cruel and generous. “You’ve earned the right to see him.”

The world tilted. Her pulse stopped, then thundered painfully.

Taro.

Her son.

Her foolish, beautiful son.

The fog that had ruled her mind for months shattered in an instant. Every craving, every obedient thought the brand’s soft whispers all fell away beneath the crashing surge of panic and clarity.

“He’s alive?” she whispered, trembling.

Korgul’s golden eye glinted with satisfaction. “Alive, yes. Your boy proved brave. Foolish, but brave. Tried to cut my throat in my own war tent.” His grin widened. “If you hadn’t begged for his life, I would’ve fed him to the wolves myself.”

Her breath hitched. The memory returned in fragments the pleading, the humiliation, her voice cracking as she’d fallen to her knees before the Warchief. The brand’s heat had drowned out her shame, twisting mercy into something like gratitude.

“He’s been rotting in the cells for a month,” Korgul went on. “But he still refuses to curse your name. Admirable, if stupid.”

Yamaba’s knees nearly buckled. She clutched at the edge of the map table, nails digging into the wood. “Please… I wish to see him,” she said, her voice barely holding together.

The Warchief laughed softly, savoring the tremor in her tone. “You will,” he said. “That is your reward. You’ve earned it, strategist.”

It took all her strength not to collapse. “Thank you, my lord,” she whispered, bowing low enough for her tears to fall unseen.

When he left the tent, she stood alone in the wavering lamplight, the glow of her brand pulsing faintly under her silks.

But Taro was alive. Alive.

And for the first time in months, Yamaba felt something other than submission. She felt resolve.

The prison tunnels beneath Fangspire stank of rust and damp stone. Torches guttered in iron sconces, their flames painting the walls in dull amber. Each step echoed faintly against the floor, accompanied by the steady clink of Yamaba’s chains. The guards didn’t bind her she was too valuable for that but they escorted her all the same.

She walked in silence, clutching a shawl around her shoulders. The brand beneath her ribs throbbed faintly, its rhythm out of sync with her heart. For weeks, she’d almost forgotten what a clear mind felt like. Now, each heartbeat cut like glass.

They stopped before a heavy iron door. The guard struck it twice with the butt of his spear. “The Warchief’s strategist,” he barked through the crack. “You’ve got a visitor, prisoner.”

The lock groaned. The door swung open.

He sat inside, lounging against the cold stone as if it were a throne.

Her breath hitched.

He looked almost unreal in the half light his smooth olive skin gleaming faintly, the mint-green of his hair tumbling over his face in careless waves. Those orange eyes, sharp and luminous even in the gloom, flicked toward her with something between boredom and irritation.

For one awful moment, she thought he didn’t recognize her.

The moment their eyes met, his lips parted into a small, genuine smile. “You look terrible, Mom,” he said, voice light, teasing. “Guess Orc luxury isn’t as glamorous as I imagined.”

Her breath caught in her throat. “Taro…”

He stood, stretching as if the chains were just accessories. “I was starting to think they’d never let you down here.” He gave a mock bow, tail flicking lazily. “Not that I don’t appreciate the effort. You know how I hate being ignored.”

Yamaba stepped forward, eyes glistening. “You’re alive.”

He grinned. “Alive, bored, and unreasonably hot. Some things never change.”

Despite herself, Yamaba laughed a raw, shaky sound she hadn’t made in months. Her hand trembled as she reached through the bars to touch his face. He didn’t pull away. For a brief moment, he leaned into her palm, his skin warm beneath her fingertips.

“I thought I’d lost you,” she whispered.

“Not yet,” he said softly. “Though I’d appreciate it if you stopped trying to save me by begging monsters for favors. You almost made me look lame.”

Her lips quivered. “You don’t understand, Taro. The brand ”

He cut her off gently. “I know how it works. Orc addiction, the obedience seal, the dependency cycle. It’s nasty stuff.” His eyes softened.

He sighed, then crouched, resting his forearms on his knees. “Look, I get it. You’re trapped. It’s not your fault.” His grin returned, sly but reassuring. “Which means it’s up to me to fix this. Again.”

“Taro-”

“Relax,” he said, holding up a chained hand. “No assassinations this time. That plan was… premature.” He smirked.

Her eyes widened. “You’re planning something again.”

“Of course I am,” he said brightly. “You raised me, remember? You taught me to use my brain.” He leaned closer, lowering his voice. “He thinks I’m broken. He’s wrong. I’m just waiting for him to get comfortable.”

There was something chilling in how calmly he said it.

“Taro,” she whispered, terrified and hopeful all at once, “you have to be careful.”

He grinned, full of that old mischief. “Always am. Besides…” He rubbed the back of his neck, eyes darting briefly away. “I’ve got help this time.”

“Help?”

Taro hesitated, then coughed into his hand. “Long story. Big guy. Great arms. Don’t ask.” His cheeks darkened just slightly, betraying him for the first time.

Yamaba blinked. “Taro… are you ?”

He quickly raised a finger. “Ah-ah-ah. Focus on your own love life, mother. I’ve got mine handled.”

For a long moment, she just stared at him, this arrogant, infuriating, radiant boy she’d thought she’d lost forever and something inside her finally unclenched.

“You shouldn’t have come for me,” she said, though there was no strength in the words.

He smiled faintly. “I told you, I always cum for the people I love~” his tail swished lazily behind him,

The torchlight flickered between them,

And Yamaba, for the first time in months, felt something she hadn’t dared to feel since the brand took her mind.

Hope.

The lamplight swayed gently, painting the tent walls in soft gold. Alice lay beneath Norki, her hands tangled in his hair, her breath catching with every slow movement. The air was thick with warmth and the faint scent of herbs something alive, tender, real.

Their rhythm was unhurried, almost reverent. Alice traced a trembling hand down Norki’s spine, feeling his heartbeat flutter against her palm. He looked up at her through his lashes, eyes half-lidded but full of quiet adoration.

“Don’t stop,” she whispered. “Please.”

Norki’s lips brushed hers in answer, gentle at first, then hungry. Every touch made her forget the world outside the tent the war, the brand, even the guilt that coiled deep in her chest. In that moment, it was only them.

Norki began to thrust slowly, his impressive gob cock sliding in and out of Alice's dripping heat. She was snug but not tight around him, Alice let out a breathy moan, relishing the delicious drag and glide, the way Norki's cock seemed to hit all the right places inside her.

"Faster," she encouraged, rocking her hips to meet his thrusts. "Just like that, but harder."

Norki obliged, snapping his hips with more ****, building speed. The sound of flesh on flesh mixed with their panting breaths, the most erotic music. Alice clung to him, nails digging into his back as he pounded her.

The change in angle caused Alice's cock to be pinned between their bodies, rubbing against Norki's sweat-slick abs with every thrust. She gasped, sparks of pleasure zinging from the sensitive head, adding to the symphony of sensation. Alice knew she was leaking all over her stomach, pre-cum weeping.

"I'm gonna... I need... Please..." she babbled, overstimulated and overwhelmed. Her legs were jelly, her climax approaching like a freight train.

Norki seemed to understand. He adjusted his pace, his thrusts going short and sharp,

Alice keened, back arching so hard she thought it might break. With a muffled sob, she came, cum fountaining from her cock to splatter between their sweat stuck bodies. Her pussy clamped down on Norki's shuttling cock, triggering his own release.

Norki buried himself as deep as he could go, spilling rope after rope of hot, thick Seed inside Alice's clenching cunt. he painted her insides white, the feeling of being filled and fucked open mixing with the bliss of her own shattering.

They rode out the aftershocks, twitching and oversensitized, skin prickling under the cum and sweat. Alice sighed out a shaky breath, feeling boneless and satisfied, aftershocks still sparking along her nerves like miniature fireworks.

The flap of the tent suddenly rustled.

“Alice!”

Jolie’s voice.

Norki froze mid-motion, eyes wide as panic spread across his face. Alice’s stomach dropped.

“Jolie, not now!” she hissed, scrambling to pull a sheet up over them both.

The curtain swung open, and Jolie’s silhouette filled the doorway. She looked half-annoyed, half-alarmed until her eyes actually adjusted to the scene.

“Oh my gods,” Jolie groaned, throwing a hand over her face. “Really? Again? Can you two at least hang a warning rune or something?”

Alice’s cheeks flamed. “We were busy!”

Norki’s cock twitched shooting a few more ropes of goblin jizz inside of Alice with a wet squelch.

“I can tell,” Jolie deadpanned. “But we’ve got injured trainees from the Paladin yard two broken arms, one concussion, and our boyfriend’s on his way here personally.”

The words hit Alice like cold water. “Leo’s what?”

“Coming here,” Jolie said pointedly, already dragging a screen to divide the room. “So unless you want our darling leader walking in on your extracurriculars, I’d suggest getting dressed. Fast.”

Norki froze mid-motion, halfway between panic and confusion. “H-he’s coming now?”

“Yes, now,” Jolie snapped, though her smirk betrayed her amusement. “You’d think Dice himself planned this.”

Alice glared. “Don’t even joke about that.”

(Dice: Oh, sweetheart… it’s not a joke if I actually did.)

Alice groaned, tugging her shirt on backward. “Perfect. Just perfect.”

She could already hear the familiar rhythm of boots approaching steady, confident, every step carrying that unshakable sense of control Leo had. The same stride that made orcs twice his size instinctively move out of his way.

Jolie shot her a look. “You want me to stall him?”

Alice’s voice came out thin. “Do I look like I have a plan?”

“Honestly? You look like you just cheated on your boyfriend with the camp mascot,” Jolie said dryly, flicking a glance toward Norki.

“I am the boyfriend now,” Norki muttered under his breath, cheeks burning.

“Not helping,” Alice hissed.

The tent flap lifted.

“Hope I’m not interrupting anything,” Leo’s voice rolled in smooth, amused, and far too self-assured.

Every muscle in Alice’s body locked up. Jolie, ever the quick thinker, grabbed the nearest bowl of water and pretended she’d just been sanitizing supplies. “Nope! Not a thing! Just some light healing and… uh… paperwork.”

Leo’s shadow filled the entry, backlit by torchlight. His eyes swept the room with that same easy confidence, lingering on Alice just long enough for her heart to stutter.

“You look flushed,” he said, a knowing smirk curling at the edge of his lips. “Been working hard?”

Alice **** a laugh. “You could say that.”

The air in the tent was still heavy with heat and the faint scent of sweat. Alice hadn’t even caught her breath yet when Jolie burst in moments ago. She’d barely managed to pull her shirt back on, her hair clinging damply to her neck. Norki sat beside her, flushed and fidgeting, the picture of guilt wrapped in half-buttoned clothes.

Alice could still feel Norki's semen leaking out of her, coating her thighs in sticky warmth. Each trickle and dribble seemed deafeningly loud to her ears.

But when she glanced at Leo, his expression remained pleasantly neutral, not an ounce of suspicion on his face.

The flap of the tent shifted again. Leo’s voice rolled through like sunlight and thunder all at once.

“Hope I’m not interrupting anything,” he called, that familiar edge of arrogance undercut by something almost fond.

Alice froze. Norki went pale. Jolie, trying to salvage the moment, raised her voice far too cheerfully. “Nope! Not a thing! Just your healers working hard as always!”

(Dice: Lies, lies, lies. Oh, this is better than I could’ve scripted.)

Leo stepped into view, his golden eyes sweeping over them. He looked the same as always every inch the confident bastard who somehow made command look effortless. He leaned casually against the tent’s support beam, gaze flicking between Alice and Norki.

“You look exhausted,” he said, that teasing smile curling his lips. “Been keeping up with the workload, I hope?”

Alice tried to speak but her throat betrayed her. She nodded instead, smiling far too wide. “Of course. Everything’s… under control.”

“Good,” Leo said, folding his arms. “Because the paladin trainees are trying to kill each other again. I came to make sure you two haven’t burned out yet.”

He stepped closer, his presence filling the small tent. Norki’s tail went rigid. Jolie looked like she was biting her tongue to keep from laughing.

(Dice: Oh, sweet irony. The boss walks in, the guilty glow-up duo try to act normal, and he’s still completely oblivious. Someone grab me popcorn.)

Leo’s expression softened just slightly, a rare flicker of warmth. “You’ve both been doing great work. I mean it. You’re keeping this camp alive.”

Alice exhaled, managing a faint smile. “Thanks, Leo.”

He nodded once, glancing at Norki. “You too, kid. You’ve been a big help.”

Norki nearly tripped over his words. “T-thank you, sir I mean, Leo!”

Leo laughed quietly. “Relax. No ‘sir.’ Just Leo’s fine.”

(Dice: Ah, yes, the confident king among fools, smiling at the two people who just made him a cuck. Delicious.)

Jolie caught Alice’s eye and mouthed, You’re so dead.

Alice pretended not to see her.

Leo turned toward the tent’s exit, the canvas flap rippling as he pushed it aside. “Rest while you can. You’ll need it.”

Alice managed a nod, her heart still racing as his silhouette disappeared into the sunlit dust outside.

For a long moment, no one spoke. The quiet pressed heavy around them.

Then Jolie exhaled, flopping onto her cot with a groan. “You’ve got a **** wish, you know that?”

Alice dropped her face into her hands. “Don’t remind me.”

(Dice: Oh, I will. Over and over. Because this? This is art.)

Alice could still feel Norki's thick Seed trickling out of her used and abused pussy, her thighs now thoroughly coated with his pearly cum. She shifted slightly, trying to stem the tide, but it was no use -

Alice slipped into her panties as quickly as she could manage, tugging her hair into something that resembled order. Her heartbeat still hadn’t slowed. By the time she stepped into the front half of the tent, her face was composed or at least, she hoped it looked that way.

Leo stood there like he owned the world, boots dusty, jacket open, that ever-present smirk tugging at his lips. Three of his so-called “paladin trainees” were lined up in front of him, each one bleeding or bandaged in some creative new way. One clutched a shoulder, another had his arm tied off with a strip of cloth, and the third was trying and failing not to limp.

“Don’t,” Leo said, before Alice could open her mouth. “Not a word.”

She arched an eyebrow anyway. “Two broken arms, Leo? Really?”

(Dice: Oh, she’s sharpening the knife. Here it comes.)

Leo smirked, tossing his gloves onto a crate. “They needed to learn what happens when you drop your guard. Pain’s the best teacher.”

One of the trainees groaned. “You said you’d go easy this time.”

Leo grinned, crouching to meet the boy’s eye. “And I did. If I hadn’t, you’d be missing the arm entirely.”

Alice sighed, brushing past him. “You’re impossible.”

He watched her move maybe a little too long before answering, “And yet you keep fixing what I break. We make a good team.”

(Dice: He flirts while her panties are soaked in goblin jizz magnificent.)

Alice crouched beside the first trainee, gently unwrapping the splint. “You fractured your radius clean through,” she said, voice even. “You’re lucky the bone didn’t pierce skin.”

The trainee grimaced as her glowing hands hovered above the injury. Light spread slowly, the bone aligning itself with a soft crack. The orc swore under his breath, then gasped as the pain ebbed away.

“Try not to block with your forearm next time,” Alice muttered.

Leo crouched beside her, watching like he had all the time in the world. “You’ve gotten faster,” he said, his tone lazy but impressed. “Guess the constant practice pays off.”

She didn’t look at him. “That or I’m just tired of stitching up your messes.”

He chuckled lowly. “You love my messes. Admit it.”

(Dice: Oh boy. He’s flirting and doesn’t even realize he’s standing next to the evidence of her latest infidelity Chef’s kiss.)

Alice kept her eyes down, pretending to focus on the next patient. “He just takes his job seriously,” she said quickly.

Leo’s smirk returned, all lazy charm. “Good. I like that.”

The next trainee’s arm was worse, the fracture jagged and swollen. He hissed as Alice pressed her hands over the wound, but the light came anyway, soft and steady. Flesh knitted, bone reformed.

When she finished, she sat back with a tired sigh. “You push them too hard,” she muttered.

Leo leaned closer, voice low and teasing. “I push everyone too hard. You’re no exception.”

(Dice: Oh, that line’s going to age beautifully. Someone frame it.)

Norki stood quietly near the back, trying to look invisible. His tail betrayed him, flicking nervously every few seconds. Leo’s gaze flicked his way briefly. “You holding up, kid? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

Norki jumped slightly. “N-no, sir! Just tired!”

“Sir,” Leo repeated with mock offense. “What am I, a general? Relax. It’s Leo.”

(Dice: And the award for “Most Oblivious Harem Leader” goes to…)

The trainees shifted awkwardly while Alice finished her work. Each one murmured a quick thank-you as she moved down the line, the tent filling with the soft hum of healing energy and the rhythmic clink of armor plates.

When the last wound was sealed, Leo pushed off the wall and stretched like a cat. “Good work, all of you. You lasted a whole hour longer than yesterday. Maybe next week you’ll survive a full session without needing my healers to babysit you.”

The recruits groaned in unison, earning Leo’s trademark smirk.

He turned back to Alice, his tone softening just a hair. “You’re the real miracle worker here. I’d be lost without you.”

She gave a small, **** smile. “You already are.”

Leo laughed, throwing his head back. “See? That’s why I keep you around.”

(Dice: Oh, this is rich. The fool smiles, his queen lies, and the drama writes itself.)

The laughter faded, leaving only the sound of the forge outside and the quiet shuffle of the wounded recruits.

Leo didn’t leave right away. He stood by the tent flap, arms crossed, eyes scanning the space one last time before landing back on Alice and Jolie. The smirk was still there, but something quieter lingered behind it.

“Actually,” he said, tone lowering, “there’s something I’ve been meaning to ask.”

Alice froze mid-step, caught off guard by the sudden seriousness. “What’s wrong?”

Leo tilted his head slightly, just enough to glance at the orc trainees still lingering nearby. Two were testing their newly healed arms; the third sat awkwardly, pretending not to eavesdrop.

“Not here,” Leo said, keeping his voice light but sharp enough for the others to get the hint. “Let’s just say… I’m starting to get worried about our missing piece.”

Jolie’s posture stiffened. She understood instantly. “You mean…”

“Yeah,” he said. “Her.”

(Dice: Ah, the mysterious ‘her.’ Subtle, subtle. Truly the masters of spycraft.)

Alice exhaled softly, pretending to adjust the bandages on one of the trainees to mask her reaction. “We haven’t had a word from her in months. No messages, no system pings, nothing. It’s like she vanished.”

Leo nodded grimly, though the cocky grin returned as a reflex. “She’s too stubborn to die quietly. But Fangspire’s full of monsters and idiots with sharp things and we both know she attracts trouble like I attract admirers.”

Jolie smirked faintly. “So… constantly?”

“Exactly,” Leo said.

The orc recruits laughed at that, assuming it was just harmless boasting. Which was the point.

Alice lowered her voice, almost whispering. “You’ve been talking to the Warchief again, haven’t you?”

Leo shrugged, feigning casualness. “He mentioned that the initial deal is still on we can fight the monster that's giving these orcs so much trouble and be released from our brands early..”

Leo grinned, that dangerous spark back in his eyes..” The guy wants the beast dead, I get Yamaba back, and we all leave before Dice throws us another curveball.”

(Dice: Oh, please. Like I’d ever be that predictable.)

Alice hesitated, her fingers tightening around the edge of the cot. “You’re serious about this?”

Leo’s expression softened just barely. “I don’t leave people behind. Not her. Not any of you.”

That silenced the room. Even the trainees stopped fidgeting.

Norki, standing off to the side with a stack of folded cloths, stared at the floor. The words hit him like a quiet hammer blow. Leave. The thought made his stomach twist. He didn’t say anything, but his tail flicked once, sharply a tell only Alice noticed.