ARC 7-Cursed Fates-52
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Not all the Templetees follow me inside the house. The guy with the snake scales lies down beneath one of the colorful standing torches, eyes hooded as a hand distractedly rubs his stomach. I’m not surprised he doesn’t want to move when he practically inhaled a good quarter of the giant pig. At one point, his jaw was unhinged, allowing him to shove slabs of meat down his throat without swallowing. If he moves too fast, he might explode.

Mouse Tail also doesn’t follow us. Interestingly, she steps away to speak with William, who stepped into the garden a while ago, drawn by the commotion. They’ve been having an animated conversation for a while, the shy young man blushingly stumbling through a conversation while Mouse Tail smiles wanly at him, the end of her pink, fleshy tail curling around one of his ankles.

That leaves Cloud and Ruby to follow behind Shake as she carries me into the house. The large woman literally picks me up, one arm going behind my legs and the other behind my back. I’m not small by any measure but I admit, being cradled in her large arms makes me feel like I am. Not to mention being wrapped in her ego. The shamelessness necessary to pick someone up and carry them into their own house is incredible to witness.

I’m so amazed by her daring that I don’t say anything, letting her have her way. Maybe I enjoy it a bit. My wife is proof enough that I don’t mind being handled by a strong woman and this is much gentler than Kierra’s usual methods. That savage would have thrown me over her shoulder no matter whose house it was. Or we wouldn’t have left the garden. She doesn’t mind getting up close and personal with grass. As beastly as my guests are, they at least have the decency to take our intended activities to a bed.

But not my bed. Alana and Kierra may be comfortable with me sleeping around but a part of me thinks it’s going a little too far to do so in our bedroom. That seems…invasive, strange. When I enter my room, I think of my loved ones. The thought of entering my bedroom and remembering a drunken orgy instead of my first time with Alana invokes weird feelings. So instead, I direct Shake to the second guest room in the house.

We draw plenty of attention. Sometime while we were outside, Marthe finally joined the party. Dressed in a short-sleeved blouse and skirt despite the chilly weather, Alana’s sharp-tongued friend is, for once, not scowling. She looks toward us when we enter, rolls her eyes, and continues her conversation. With Arthur. Aren’t they standing a bit close? Ugh. Best not to think too hard about that.

Way is standing near them. Her reaction is visceral, her expression saying clearly that she’s interested. She even takes a step toward us but one of Arthur’s friends, another girl wearing too much leather, grabs her by the arm. She leans down to whisper something in the enthusiastic cook’s ear, so low I can only hear garbled sounds even with my impressive hearing. Whatever is said, it dampens Way’s mood. She frowns and pulls her arm from the other woman’s grip, giving us one last wistful glance before turning away.

The most notable pair of eyes that watches us belong to my future knight, sharp blue gaze finding us the moment we enter. Our gazes meet and the two of us know each other well enough that we can have a whole conversation in a look. An ability her sister doesn’t share, forcing her to give voice to her concerns.

“Where are they going?” the northern bunny asks, genuinely confused. Which is incredibly amusing to me. During her spat with Alana earlier, she tried to present herself as a worldly and more knowledgeable older sister, which contrasts sharply with the ignorance, bordering on naivete, in her tone.

Alana is similarly amused given the humor in her scoff. “To a bed. Though not our bed. Hm. Which is probably for the best. Good job.”

Thank you, sweetie.

“A bed?…no. You don’t mean…all of them? Together?”

“Why do you sound so scandalized? Don’t try to tell me you never witnessed the Stars getting friendly during the little time you spent as a soldier. I won’t believe you.”

“Well of course but, eh-hem. Shouldn’t you be bothered by this?”

“Bothered by what?”

“Your wife is about to sleep with three other women,” Yulia says slowly, as if the problem is obvious and she doubts Alana’s intelligence for not immediately understanding it.

“Likely more than that. Talia has been eager for some skinship to cement their relationship and Kierra will probably join because she’s her. And that alchemist has been eying Lou since the garden tour. Seems a bit too…I don’t know. I don’t think group activities are her preference, but she might make an exception. She’s almost as eager as Arthur’s friend.”

“How are you analyzing this so calmly? Aren’t you…concerned?”

Alana scowls. “Are you saying I should be?” Her tone implies that she’ll take an answer in the positive as an insult.

“I’m saying anyone would be.”

“I’m not anyone. Neither is Lou. And you’re doing that thing where you stick your big nose too far into my business.”

“I’m just worried about you. Relationships—"

“Don’t try to explain my marriage to me.” Aw!

Thankfully, for her sake, Yulia finally gets the message and drops the topic, giving us a strange look. I have to admit, I’m seeing the northern rose differently after tonight. She hasn’t done anything against her character, but she was right when she said that choosing how to express an opinion makes a world of difference. With her pleasant and reasonable demeanor set aside, I can understand Alana’s points a little more.

Yulia wants her way, when she wants it, how she wants it, and not getting it makes her…frustrated. I can only imagine how overbearing that kind of nature must have been when she was a child, especially to a young Alana, who had to fight for anything and everything.

I should do something special for her. Maybe a date after we handle all the problems in the city. Or a stroll through the Grand Market. Replace that old, tired armor of hers and have a meal at that fun restaurant William introduced us to. The girls there are a riot and I didn’t have a chance to appreciate it last time with the unpleasant past Arthur there to take up my focus and ruin the atmosphere.

I had hoped they would attend the party, but it was a long shot, given they hardly know me and this all came about in a rush. Can’t expect everyone to drop whatever they’re doing to attend my whims, though the thought is delightful.

Cloud, more familiar with the house than the others, moves ahead of Shake, guiding her through the halls and opening the door of the guest room. It isn’t much, with plain white walls and a sparse amount of furniture, but my guests hardly care about the decor.

Shake carefully lowers me onto the bed before climbing over me, straddling my waist. My heart hammers but her expression is completely composed. She really has a striking appearance, hard stone softened by feminine curves. Her horn glows faintly as she looks down at me with hooded eyes, a faint smile turning up the ends of her lips.

“You’re nervous,” she says softly.

From the corner of my eyes, I notice Cloud and Ruby undressing each other, slowly, but Shake drags my attention back to her, two strong fingers grabbing chin. “Are you not comfortable with this, sister?”

“Oh, I’m comfortable. Very comfortable.”

“…we need not the cliffs to shelter us from the harsh winds, only the shelter of family.”

“What does that mean?” I mutter, as Shake pulls her shirt over her head, tossing it away carelessly. Saints, she’s even more defined than me. I love the look of a strong woman but I’m still a little soft, especially my ass. Can’t say the same for her. There is nothing but muscle in front of me and the lines of her abs look like they were chiseled into her skin. My fingers twitch with the urge to trace them.

“Brethren think of intimacy differently. For us, the heart is separate from the body, but I know that is a strange concept for others. As interested as I am in you, I wouldn’t want to invite disharmony into your home.”

“Ah. Don’t worry. You’re not. My first wife actively encourages me being intimate with others and my second is probably going to listening at the door.”

“You have a wonderful house,” she says while kicking off her shoes and sliding off her pants.

“I do.”

“Then there is no need to hold back.” Her underwear is the last to go, leaving her bare. “I must admit, it would have been hard to leave if you had second thoughts. I have been craving this since the moment I saw you with your mate. You are, mm, irresistible. But that is of course what you want. What you have made yourself.”

“Yesss,” I hiss as her fingers hook the waist of my pants.

“Then it is only proper we thank such a generous hostess.”

 

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