12. Branding

Everyone stared at me as if I had grown wings and started to fly around the room. Which really shouldn’t be an expression I used anymore, considering I could actually do that. It took several seconds for anyone to acknowledge what I had said.

The first person to react was actually Evgenia herself. She robotically stood from her chair, slightly bowed in my general direction, and said, “I’ll collect my belongings.”

Cynthia’s gaze shifted from confusion through an expression of understanding and then to expectancy. She viewed me as a parent would view a teenager who had just knocked over their glass at dinner; an exhausted, mildly disappointed, ‘you need to clean up after yourself, now’ sigh escaped her lips. Beth and Sam stood frozen behind me, completely captivated by the spell of the train wreck I was conducting.

“Wait. Wait. Wait. Wait. Wait, Ev, that’s not what I meant. Please, sit back down for just a moment. I want to talk to you. Give me a chance to explain, please.”

She had only taken two steps from the table but stopped retreating when I spoke. Her eyes lingered on my face for several stressful heartbeats, and then she glanced at Sam and Beth. When she returned to the table and sat back down, I released a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding. Sam, Beth, and I joined the two already at the table, and again, all eyes were focused on me, awaiting my inevitably fumbled attempt to clarify what I meant.

I opened my mouth to speak, but I closed it when no words came to mind. I considered how I wanted to clarify what I was doing and what I wanted to happen. Several times, I had already made a mess of things with Ev by jumping with my instincts first and speaking without thinking. I wanted to avoid that if I could here. Thankfully, everyone had the patience to allow me to find my thoughts.

“What did you mean by ‘getting your things’? What do you think I was doing?” I asked. I needed to understand Evgenia’s position in order to explain where I was.

“I was gathering my possessions here in order to leave since you had just dismissed me,” Ev responded. Then she frowned, continuing, “I haven’t been fired twice in one week before. I’m not sure I’ve been fired before this week, actually.”

Ah. What a mess.

“I wasn’t trying to fire you. I suppose I should’ve maybe explained a bit before doing that. Alright, just, give me a minute to find where I want to start.”

The silence of the room was deafening, and the weight of the expectations, mostly from myself, was overwhelming. I meandered through my mind until I found the thread I wanted to follow.

“So, uh, Sam and I are a thing, now? You probably figured that out. Beth is onboard and was very encouraging about it.”

Cynthia opened her mouth to ask a question, but I continued speaking.

“I promise it’s relevant. Sam came to our room last night upset and confused about how I was treating her, which, completely fair. The pertinent part is that she mentioned I hadn’t accepted her Fae Book friend request. That was because I didn’t know what Fae Book was or that she had sent me a request. I rectified that this morning.

“On there, in addition to all of your lovely requests, I had another two thousand messages. Someone must have concluded that I was actually a dragon because messages from about mid-Thursday on were very direct and personal. I was pretty grossed out by a whole lot of the requests I was getting. Literally being solicited for sex and body fluids and several bids for body parts. Eugh.

“Anyway, I had almost completely cleaned out my backlog of messages when I opened a very vague message trying to invite me to an exclusive club. A club for ‘labor connections.’ They sell people. That’s pretty gross, but they have a whole website, and they have pictures and a list of attributes with each mugshot, and it’s so dehumanizing and disgusting.

“The part that really affected me was when I realized I wasn’t actually different from them. Of course, a lawyer could probably make an argument highlighting differences between us, and even I’ll admit that there are some pretty obvious ones. But, as of right now, the lawyer could be here against her will. She has no choice in the matter. If I tell her to do something, she has to do it. She was already my slave. I hate that it took me this long to see that. I’m not really happy with what it says about me as a person.

“So, Ev, I’m not trying to fire you here. I haven’t precisely used your talents to the maximum, but I have no doubt that I will actually need you, or someone like you, to assist me in the near future. Especially considering all of those business opportunities I just declined through private messages. I just couldn’t stomach the idea that I was holding you here while you had absolutely no say in the matter.

“I want your help if you have any interest in offering it, but I don’t want it like I had it.”

The room sat in silence again once I had concluded. Until Beth giggled and whispered, “‘Couldn’t stomach it.’ That’s the truth.” With the air cleared and the atmosphere changed, I realized I hadn’t actually asked for anything specific. It wasn’t really fair to leave it up in the air. I needed to provide some direction to what I was asking for.

“I think that, given the circumstances of denying something around 1500 requests in one sitting, I am very shortly going to be inundated with people trying again. There’s going to be a lot of work to be done soon, and a lot of work that needs to be done that I probably won’t know to do. I would appreciate your assistance, if you’re not disgusted by me.

“I was hoping that you could write a new contract for yourself, but one that acknowledges you as a person. You know, with compensation for your services, stipulations for time off, and perhaps some kind of incentive structure where you take a percentage of contracts you negotiate. I don’t know — I’m just a dumb kid. This is your home field, and you’ll be able to do it better than I can. I know I just dropped it on you, so, don’t feel like you need to do this today. But, I couldn’t have you do this while under the weight of the other one; it wouldn’t be fair. I figured if I released you and then had you decide what would be fair, it would have a better chance to be. It’s not like you’re going to take advantage of yourself.”

Over the past week, I had started learning how to interpret Cynthia’s facial reactions during our communal discussions over dinner and conversations in the living room. She was, for a consummate and dedicated professional, surprisingly candid in displaying how she felt. As I said the final line of my request, her eyes snapped to me in desperation and objection. At the same time, the anxiety and pressure Evgenia was feeling spread throughout the room and filled my senses. Somehow, I was making things worse. Still, no one else verbally responded, so I trudged on, attempting to smooth over my impulsiveness.

“It doesn’t need to be concluded today. I just couldn’t live with myself holding it any more. You’re welcome to remain here for as long as you wish. I’m not firing you, and I’m not asking you to leave. I just wanted you to have the option.”

Evgenia, thankfully, finally responded, “I understand, James. Thank you. I have much to consider. If you’ll excuse me, I need some time to myself, and then I need to head to the office.”

No one prevented her this time as she went down the hallway and to her room, the latch clicking as she gently closed the door. I really hoped I wouldn’t be going to Aisling in two days, saying that I scared her personal advisor off and now needed a replacement. I definitely needed the assistance.

Cynthia was the first to break the silence after Evgenia left.

“I agree with what you’ve tried to do, James. I don’t know if she’s ready for it. There’s a lot more going on under the surface than any of us know with Ev, but it’s her place to share. She desperately needed you to do that, but I doubt she understands her own needs.”

Beth added, “I don’t think she even realized that being completely obedient to you ten minutes after meeting you was weird. There’s a lot to unpack there.”

I groaned, “Why can’t anything be straightforward and clear cut? I trust you. If you say I need to hear it from her, I won’t press for it. Now, with that bombshell dropped, I have a couple more to do.

“First, we are going out dancing tonight. Sam, Beth, and I, at least. Cynthia, you and Ev are invited, but I only know Zoey will be there and nothing more. I don’t know how many people she’s coming with or where we’re going or anything.”

Sam interrupted me, “She told us she had half a dozen regulars with a couple other potentials and that we’d be going to a place downtown that catered to both magic and non-magic clientele. Apparently, they make a big to-do about how there might be spirits or werewolves or elves or whatever showing up and drinking there, and the mundanes eat it up. Some of them dress up in costume and pretend to be one of us, most of us glamor down to look like one of them. You get a nice mix, and the whole place has a suppression field built into the foundation so that wizards can’t quite tell who is and who isn’t.”

Beth further said, “Yeah, she said to bring comfy shoes because her group likes to get loose and stay on the floor until closing and that a couple of the girls would probably find a guy to take home for the night.” Beth shifted nervously at the table before continuing, “I can figure out what she’s saying, but I’ve never actually been to a club before. I don’t really know what we’re doing. Dancing isn’t my thing, drinking isn’t my thing, and I definitely don’t need to pick up a guy.”

I smiled at the vehemence of her final clause. “We’re joining them to prove to Zoey that I’m not holding either of you against your will by having a relatively normal night out. Really though, you’ve never been to a club or a bar?”

Beth shrunk from the question, embarrassed, and her answer explained why “I’m only 19, and I look like I’m 15. I don’t have money to waste on a fake, energy to spend on blowing off steam, or friends to go with anyway. Besides, bar guys make really inconsistent marks. Some of them might let you crash at their place for a few days, but the vast majority just want to score that night and then kick you out in the morning and never see you again. I couldn’t get in, couldn’t afford the entertainment, had no one to go with, and there wasn’t a point in chasing a mediocre payout.”

Sam put a hand on Beth’s shoulder, “I haven’t really been either. I was interested in trying it once, but I had cut contact with all the people I knew and buried myself in work. I’m glad I get to be there with the two of you, and Beth and I get to do something for the first time together.”

Her genuine smile and comforting words seemed to assuage Beth’s insecurity. The younger woman turned to me and said, “So, we’re going shopping for some casual clothes after meeting with Antonin. I’m coming with you to your lesson, and we’ll go afterward. You need something a little more dressy and some day-to-day things that aren’t the casual sportswear I picked up Monday. Sam and I are in a similar boat — we have those extra fancy dresses for our public appearances and some gym clothes, but nothing casually nice to go out in.”

She faltered and lowered her eyes to the table, “I mean if that’s okay with you. I know we already spent a bunch of your money on clothes this week, and we do already have stuff we could wear. I just figured the club probably has a dress code of some kind. Maybe not, though, since they basically allow cosplayers in.”

I wrapped an arm around the diminutive woman and pulled her into my lap, surprised that she hadn’t taken that position to begin with. I suppose the tone in the room wasn’t exactly right for lap seating when she first sat down.

“Beth, let’s get something straight here. It’s not my money — It’s our money. We’re closer than any married couple already, even if it’s only been a week. You don’t need to ask permission to buy something for yourself. You deserve to have nice things that are yours. Additionally, I do actually need some nicer clothes, because I have been invited to Aisling’s estate for dinner tomorrow evening. This is a perfect time for me to shop for those. And, since you’ll both likely be accompanying me in the future, this serves the secondary purpose of getting the two of you outfits for those events.”

I pulled the card Aisling had given me from my wallet and handed it to a curious Cynthia.

“She gave me that in person and said that you would know how to read it. I don’t know anything besides that.”

Cynthia looked over the blank card for a moment and then handed it back to me while explaining what it was.

“It’s keyed to your mana signature uniquely. You’ll need to release a small amount of your mana into the card and then hold it there. When I activate it, a hologram display illuminates for me alone, but all it says is that the information contained is for you. Very complicated creation for what amounts to a disposable invitation.”

I did as instructed, and sure enough, a hazy, monochromatic six-inch resemblance of Aisling grew out of the card and greeted me. The recorded message was incredibly formal but came across as fluid and regal instead of stiff and perfunctory. It lacked the dollop of edge that Aisling usually had, making her come across more like a friendly office manager rather than the local regent you were beholden to. Eventually, she gave me the address to her vista in Villanova and asked me to call the day before if I had any particularly outlandish dietary requirements. Given that it was already the day before, I decided to ignore it. Evgenia already told me that vegetarianism wasn’t abnormal for immortals, and I could always just not eat whatever I didn’t want.

When the recording concluded, I looked around the room for the first time in a few minutes and realized everyone’s eyes were expectantly looking at me.

“You guys couldn’t see that, even though I activated it?” I asked incredulously. All three women answered at the same time.

Cynthia said, “Not even a hint that you activated it.”

Sam responded, “The card grew blurry a few moments after you took it, and then it faded back to normal a couple seconds ago.”

Beth gave the most significant response, “I could see the hazy outline of Aisling in that suit she wore to dinner. And I could hear that she was speaking, but it sounded like it was underwater or on the other side of a room that someone was vacuuming in. Muffled, unclear. It kinda hurt to try to listen to.”

Cynthia looked between the two younger women, astounded and shocked by their answers, “You shouldn’t be able to perceive anything at all! Besides how focused he was, I couldn’t tell he opened it.”

Sam blushed like crazy and then held her arm toward her mother across the table. Cynthia stared at her daughter in confusion until an orb of fire the size of a quarter began bouncing between Sam’s fingertips, performing a dance that lasted nearly 30 seconds. Cynthia sat back in her chair, flabbergasted and speechless for the second time in a minute.

Sam explained, “Something happened after we, well, you know. Similar to Beth. Antonin said she had a piece of J’s soul, right? I might now, too. So it makes sense that we could see it a little bit. And I got a whole bunch of mana of my own now. Or something like that, because it feels like James’, and using it to do anything is easy.”

Cynthia remained still, staring at her daughter and listening to the bumbling explanation. After a moment of hesitation when Sam trailed off, Cynthia stood and walked around the table, giving her daughter a hug. It lasted much longer than I thought it would, the two O’Briens whispering to each other as they embraced and Cynthia held her daughter’s face. It was awkward and uncomfortable for Beth and me to sit there silently for the ten minutes as they had their moment. I was happy it was happening; I just wished I was a little bit less of a captive forced to observe.

Eventually, the two separated, and I could clearly see their eyes were puffy, irritated, and swollen despite the brilliant smiles on their faces. The small amount of emotion I could feel through my bond with Sam felt lighter. She felt free, airy, and unburdened. For the first time since she had returned to my life, she seemed at peace, unconflicted, and tranquil.

Now that I no longer felt that I would be interrupting, I said, “So, we need to go talk to Antonin. I have a lot of questions for him today. Are both of you coming with me?”

 

---

 

“Drakeling, what on earth are you carrying in my library?”

Antonin’s voice rang out and echoed throughout the otherwise abandoned archive. As usual, he was sitting at the tables, hunched over an ancient tome while writing in a modern notebook. At least he was until Sam held the door open for Beth and me to enter. Now his eyes were firmly on the three of us.

“A bribe. A tithe? An inducement? An offering? An offering. I’m sticking with an offering.” I stumbled over my words as I carried my equally ill-defined belongings to the elderly elf.

“You’ll need to elaborate on why you are bringing me things I did not ask for, drakeling. Explain yourself.”

“Well, you see, I had no idea what to actually offer. You had asked for a coffee to start the sessions, which made sense, but I had no idea which of the nicer specialty ones you’d like, or if you’d like any of them at all, or if they’d just all be an annoying indulgence for you. So I got a whole bunch, and your regular order as well, so that way you can pick, and then I’ll know for the future.”

“Mmhmm. And the boxes?”

“Pastries, naturally. Coffee shops tend to sell them.”

“James, why are you bringing all of these things into my library?”

“I know you’ve almost certainly planned out something that will be relevant for my development in your world, but I have a lot of questions to ask today. I was hoping to ask them before we started the lesson proper, so that I could have your full attention. I don’t think you’ll be happy with what I have to ask about, so I decided to bring extra refreshments in an attempt to balance it out.”

“Questions I will always have time for, given that they are reasonable and somewhat relevant. Stop wasting both our time and bring the drinks over here. Samantha, Elizabeth, thank you for assisting our lost lizard. It’s no wonder he needed both of you.”

The three of us universally looked at the elf with surprise written plainly on our faces.

“Oh, don’t act so surprised. Cynthia’s initial report suggested it was inevitable, and I’m not even mildly bemused by the concept of a three-person relationship at my age. It also gives us another data point to attempt to understand your innate binding ritual. Sit down, you three, and drakeling, pass me a Boston creme and the Colombian hazelnut with no milk while you ask your questions.”

I did as Antonin asked, and the three of us joined him at the table. Given his apparent knowledge of the changes in our situation, I reluctantly knew where I needed to begin. I took a deep breath under the guise of cooling my drink before raising my shaking voice.

“Is there anything out there that would make my dragon inherently afraid? Something so saturated in magical energy that I would instantly know that it was undefeatable and entirely unassailable? Something with several orders of magnitude more magical energy reserves than I could ever have? Or, perhaps, a way to pretend to be something like that.”

“An elder dragon would make your dragon soul bow in deference, but there wouldn’t be such a gap between you in raw power, just in experience and guile and leverage. And there are no elder dragons near here, or the rest of us would’ve shared in this experience with you. There is a class A wizard in our realm, but he is visiting his great-great-great-great-great-great-great-nephew outside Richmond currently. The nephew recently had a child, and the wizard is bringing gifts. Don’t repeat that information. Even then, he’s more of an honorary class A for his ingenuity and determination rather than unrefined strength. No, drakeling, I cannot think of anything that would dwarf you as such.”

I sighed. I knew there wasn’t such a possibility, given that Cynthia and Aisling had both already given me the same information, but I had a lingering sliver of hope remaining that Antonin knew something they didn’t. It was dashed now.

“I think I might not be a dragon, then. I mean, I am a dragon, but not entirely a dragon. Which we already knew. I have the human portion, obviously, but I think I have a third part that’s something else. Because I think I made a deal with something Wednesday night. It came to me in a dream, showed me a bunch of things I didn’t understand entirely, and then asked for my permission to do something. I think it joined with me, somehow.”

“Who have you told about this?”

“Beth, Sam, Cynthia, Evgenia, and then I mentioned it to Aisling. She mentioned the old gods.”

The greying archivist scoffed, “Bah! ‘The old gods.’ All evidence for their interventions in our plane of existence conveniently dried up as soon as our civilizations formed permanently and writing systems began developing. They disappeared as soon as we created reliable methods of durable information storage. A load of nonsense, that. Regardless of her beliefs, tell me exactly what happened in your dream.”

I did. I explained everything I had seen while in the dream vision and how the entity seemed hesitant to interact with me but felt out of time. I described the various outcomes it showed me and how an uncountable majority of them ended with the star destroyed. I relayed how horrifying and disgusting the darkened glowing stars were with the disfigured crown on the dragon's injured head. I described how the entity had begged for my assistance, and when I finally relented, it seemed to join me, but in the end, I was alone in the dark, lost and confused.

Antonin took notes while I was speaking but never interjected. When I had concluded, he thought for another few moments before offering his thoughts.

“The good news, drakeling, is that it is unlikely to be a demonic possession. They would not have asked for your permission and would have shown you better outcomes when you helped it. A demon would be unlikely to show you that accepting its assistance would lead to hardship. The bad news is that I have never heard of anything else like this. I will make my inquiries as delicately as possible, and you should tell no one else about this.”

Antonin paused for a moment and then continued, a new level of vigor and intensity growing in his voice.

“This changes things significantly, drakeling, because I can no longer trust my information. Of course, none of it was infallible to begin with, but now everything is in question. Everything I’ve told you about your life as a dragon came with a margin of error before, but now it is infinitely large. Document everything. Ask me every question you can think of. We shall perhaps not identify what exactly you interacted with, but we shall record all of the results for anyone in the future.”

I understood now — Antonin was a scholar at heart, and I had unintentionally given him something to study. Something tremendous and imposing and unpredictable, something genuinely worthy of his acumen. He had been interested before — being able to conclusively answer questions about draconic anatomy had been a worthwhile pursuit — but now he had something that he believed no one else had ever documented.

I continued to relay my past two days to Antonin, giving him all the context necessary to answer my following questions. I described my experience training with Zoey, shapeshifting with Zoey and Mallory, and the effects of my shifting. I then repeated my tumultuous invitation from Aisling before continuing to the lunchtime conversation with Zoey and how she was worried that I had been deceiving her and my frustration from the circular discussion.

I then told him about massaging Sam and how I had used mana in my fingertips to share with the redhead. Antonin, surprisingly, offered no reaction as he continued making notes for himself. I explained how when I had sex with Sam this morning, she initially had a similar response to my first time with Beth, and then she had a very different reaction.

“Do you know why Sam seemed fine after a few moments before suddenly becoming intoxicated and infused with energy?”

“Acute Mana Overconsumption.”

Antonin responded as if the answer was painfully obvious, not even lifting his eyes from the page he was writing in. Sam facepalmed reflexively so hard I was worried she may have injured herself.

“Oh my fucking god! How did I not see that? It was so obvious!” She exclaimed.

Beth and I gawked dimly as Antonin attempted to hide his smirk from Sam’s reaction.

“Could one of you spare an explanation for the unenlightened?”

Sam slid her hand down from her face, which already had a nice red outline, and nodded as she began explaining, “So, witches and wizards and creatures that use mana to fuel their magic have magic conduits in their body. Think of them like a parallel system to your cardiovascular system — you have a way of bringing it into your body, then you cycle it around and get all of your body fueled, and then you have a way of getting rid of waste. Before this morning, I had a really limited mana-blood-esque transfer system. Tiny capacity for storage and limited bandwidth for transfer. Yeah, that’s a reasonable comparison. Anyway, something about what we did filled me to the brim and well beyond. My system didn’t know what to do with it, and I was overwhelmed. Literally drunk on J’s juice.”

Sam played into that one, smirking at Beth as she said it. Then she turned to Antonin and asked her own question.

“I’m confused about why it faded. I didn’t burn through nearly enough to return to my previous level. I used some energy on flashy displays while I was affected, but I have way, way more stored now than I ever could have contemplated yesterday. It’s like James somehow improved my mana conduits with the excess energy instead of simply overfilling me. It didn’t feel like overdrawing from a crystal, which is why I didn’t think of it. Do you know of anything that would do that?”

“Nothing so effective or so precise. There are several therapies involving transplanting arterial material from recently deceased mages with high capacity, but they offer significant risk.”

“And, why would increasing my capacity make it easier to do things besides my normal empathy skills?” Sam asked. “It didn’t feel like pulling from a gemstone to power a spell inefficiently like I had done in school. Everything felt natural, easy like my own powers, not simply overcome with raw mana.”

Antonin paused, then shook his head and grumbled, “I don’t know. It sounds like you were utilizing his pool, as though you had retrieved an amount and stored it inside you. But doing so that way would taint it with your purpose, so I do not understand how this was done.”

I had a question to ask, “Why didn’t Beth have this intoxicated mana overload response?”

Sam blushed and smelled embarrassed, which was immediately made clear when Antonin bluntly responded, “She doesn’t have any mana sensitivity.”

The four of us sat silently for a moment, the only noises coming from the precise movements of Antonin's pen against the paper before he looked up and said, “The energy was still utilized. Her enchantment has been growing since I first observed it. Elizabeth doesn’t have the sensitivity to recognize it, but I suspect it was utilized to strengthen her protections, whereas, in Samantha's case, it was used to improve her mana connection. Not that the growth alone would explain the sudden broadening of her abilities, but it explains some of the events.”

“Is this going to happen every time Sam and I, uh, engage like that?” Sam blushed as I asked.

“It’s likely to continue happening but to significantly lesser degrees. Considering you massively expanded her capacity for controlling mana in a single interaction somehow, she can now more readily accept future energy injections. Which may contribute to her growth even further, or that may have been a one-time side effect of having such a disparity. It’s hard to say at present.”

“Is something like this going to happen to everyone else I ever interact with in that way? I mean, the momentary dying and then reawakening with this ancient bond form and swapped soul pieces and shared feelings. Not that I want to be selfish or insensitive to Beth or Sam, but can I hypothetically have sex with anyone else and not permanently tie themselves to me?”

Deep in thought, Antonin paused his writing for a few moments before answering, “I do not know. You need to find out. I would put forward a hypothesis that, given that it only happens immediately following the first complete intercourse while you want them to be with you, it is something you have control over. When you eventually incorporate Zoey into your life, if she is next, I suggest that you mentally resist the idea of pulling her into your life during your first engagement with her. I imagine some part of you is merging with them more than physically during these interactions. I also imagine you’re not interested in inviting me to observe as an academic during your first intercourse with a woman.”

Beth scoffed at the idea and then covered her mouth in embarrassment while Sam visibly cringed at both the concept of being observed and Beth’s vocal reaction. Antonin ignored both of them as I continued asking my questions.

“Ahh, yeah, that would be fairly weird. Speaking of my time with Zoey, which you sound awfully confident of—”

“She is a were and mated to you. That she hasn’t followed you home or pulled you into a closet and copulated with you already is a testament to her mental strength. Her body, her mind, her soul are all reaching out to her consciousness and pointing at you, saying, ‘That man is our lover, our owner, our master, our caregiver, our mate; Why, oh why, do you defy him and resist?’ Unless you do something to traumatize her opinion of you now, it is a matter of when rather than if.”

“Right. So, do you believe she is likely to have a Sam-like drunken mana overdose reaction or a Beth-like less obvious benefits with no apparent reaction? Or something else?”

He sighed, “Given that she is a were, and the profession she has taken, she is likely to have relatively minimal mana sensitivity. I have no reason to suggest that she will follow Sam. Of course, she has no multilayered impenetrable obscured enchantings that no one has ever documented before either, so I cannot suggest these would be empowered by your essence akin to Beth. I do not know, and we will not know until it happens.”

I moved on to an adjacent topic that I hoped would actually have answers. “Why did I want to pet Zoey and care for her like she was a lost dog in the wild and I was a caveman when she transformed?”

“The initial transformation of weres releases an instinctive response based on their corresponding species and their relationship with you. Given that you are her mate, it is no surprise that an impulse towards gentle care was your reaction. I imagine that your draconic sense suppressed the feelings from Mallory. As a bat, you should have felt slight feelings of unease and distrust that you were being observed and judged.”

“Huh. I felt those while in the gym, but not when she transformed. Do dragons have those same transformation effects? Whenever I’ve engaged with my dragon soul, the women around me have had some obvious reactions.”

Antonin nodded, “It’s certainly possible that the effect is related. It has been hypothesized that Dragons and Weres have some unique magical shared origin. With the scarcity and disinclination of previous dragons for study in this area, no conclusion could be reached. That your aura causes sexual satisfaction among available females is not surprising.”

“God, phrasing it like that makes me feel disgusting. Whatever, I suppose it’s just something for me to keep in mind for the future. I had another question about Zoey: Why would she feel that I was patronizing her with pity? Why on earth would I pity her? She’s badass.”

Antonin’s features softened slightly, and he set down his pen entirely as he struggled to think of a more sensitive way to answer the question.

“She should be the one telling you of her circumstances, but I will offer a simple generic explanation from which you can speculate. I have told you how weres are bound to an animal and share characteristics of their shared origin. Specifically related to lifespan. As you so eloquently put it, Sergeant Lyon is a ‘badass.’ She is such because she is so incredibly intertwined with her wolf’s soul that she may be only wolf in a human shell. Wolves live for ten years, perhaps several more in good circumstances, while in captivity. She is nearing 19 years. You can draw the conclusion.”

Sam looked incredibly uncomfortable and smelled guilty and upset. Beth and I were silenced by the implications of what Antonin said. Evidently, Sam seemed to think that we had understood the situation already. I certainly hadn’t and the haunted look from Beth’s green eyes revealed she hadn’t either.

Zoey was dying? It explained a lot. It explained how a not-quite nineteen-year-old girl was already a government service leader if she had been an adult for years already in this world. It also explained why she was so upset about me having wasted her childhood by hiding from her in ignorance. It explained why, even though she was absolutely pissed at me and didn’t even slightly trust me, she was moving forwards anyway. She was out of time to take safe options. Jesus Christ, what a mess.

“Why is this happening now? I knew Zoey as a kid, and as a teenager I was regularly at her house to hang out with her brother. Why is she only reacting like this around me now?”

“Why are you suddenly the most potent arch dragon the world has ever documented despite having a firmly mundane childhood and there being no indication of outside tampering? Why did Beth become covered in protective archaic wardings when you touched her? Drakeling, if I had concrete answers for you, I would have simply given Aisling a dossier for you to read so I could spend my time elsewhere. These questions are interesting for me as well, but they are interesting because as of yet I know not the answers. The answers do not exist, but you need to keep asking the questions, so that we can document them ourselves.”

I nodded. I knew that would be the case, but it didn’t hurt the ask. Antonin might give sharp retorts to my questions, but he didn’t actually seem perturbed by my asking. He simply responded with blunt candor of a man tired of playing politely.

“Why does everyone who learns I’m a dragon react as if I just told them I was the tax collector? Why do they hate me prematurely if I’m the first dragon here in years?”

“Dragons are synonymous with power and authority. Sometimes tyrannical power and authority. Think of viewing yourself as a billionaire politician. You have both the political influence and the material means to make real changes in the world. All of your kin have disproportionately made the world better for themselves instead of the everyman. Everyone innately knows that. You might have the power to change the world to be better for them, but their daily life is still unsatisfactory by comparison. That lets them place the blame on you. It’s not an indictment of you — Everyone in your position should look out for themselves first. They see your actions as you looking out for yourself only instead of primarily.”

I nodded. Generic classism I could understand in theory, even if I knew it would take forever for me to grow used to being hated for what I was. Casual discrimination wasn’t exactly something I was accustomed to from my previous life.

“Am I making Beth and Sam gay?”

I blurted out the question while my mind lingered on the previous topic, unsubtly ravaging the atmosphere. That wasn’t my intent, and all three of the people at the table with me patiently waited for my needed elaboration as my blunt phrasing echoed around the otherwise vacant library.

“I mean, am I inducing some sort of casual acceptance of latent homosexual adjacent behavior? Not gay exactly, but perhaps more tolerant of another female. Beth was upset by Sam the first night, threatened by how attractive Sam is and how she shared history with me. This morning they were perfectly content sharing a bed with a reasonable amount of Beth participation while Sam and I had sex. Am I molding them into some kind of idyllic harem partner against their will?”

Surprisingly, Beth answered while Antonin was still contemplating his approach.

“James, you know very few people are actually like 100% straight, right? I’ve played with girls before. Muff diving for rent really wasn’t a bad deal. I wasn’t scared of you and Sam. I was scared of you and Sam pushing me out into the cold because I was no longer wanted. I told you already, Sam’s hot, and I like her a lot now that she isn’t acting like she hates you.”

Antonin had formulated a response while Beth answered, and he offered his opinion when she finished speaking, “It is likely, drakeling, that your nature is slightly tempering the worst aspects of personality to make this situation more livable. Your emotional connection and willingness to communicate will take the sting out of any jealousy and can cut any growing, lingering resentment off at the root before it has a chance to develop into something truly nasty.

“Are you ‘molding them into some kind of replaceable plaything, a member of a cast of girls you can choose from?’ That is really what you want to ask, isn’t it? I would argue that you are doing nothing so insidious. You may be gently encouraging towards that style of life by providing a safe, secure environment where their needs are met and caring, loving partners are around to help them and make them feel wanted. But by investing so much of your time and energy into nurturing them, by being yourself and devoting yourself to their needs, it is mutually beneficial and, frankly, idyllic. Actually idyllic, not the loss of agency perversion of the ideal you were referencing when you asked.”

It made sense. If they were meant to be highly replaceable broodmares, there would be no need to spend any time caring for their emotional well-being. The dragon and I both wanted that. We had differing ideas of going about it, but he had always deferred to me on the matter. If I could just pheromone away all of their problems and turn them into mindless servants, he wouldn’t be doing that.

As I thought this through, he spoke up. Of course, he didn’t have that level of control, he argued. Mind magic was dangerous and imprecise in the best of times. Our mates would be highly vetted and carefully chosen to be compatible with the rest of our family and us, and then we would ensure they received nothing but the best from there on out. I cringed a bit at his suggestion that there would be additional mates, but he remained steadfast. We would need them, and they would need us. It was already decided.

“Alright. I have an innate revulsion when you say I am molding them, but I understand what you mean. The natural sort of way you change over time based on who you’re around, rather than a draconic mind-altering substance way. I guess I can live with that.”

I paused for a moment and swallowed. I had one more big question to ask, but I figured I should get the three little ones out of the way first.

“Do I have to eat to stay alive? Do I have any dietary requirements for sustaining myself? Or does the consuming mana immortal magic body thing just handle it all for me?”

Antonin rolled his head back and forth before he answered, indicating that the answer was likely much more complicated than he was going to give me.

“You can survive without eating or while eating any kind of diet. I would recommend continuing to eat — the psychological and social impacts of not eating at all may damage your fragile human psychology in the short term, before you settle into this world. At the very least, I wouldn’t advise drastic, sudden changes to your daily behavior.”

“Same question but for my mates. Do they require food while regularly consuming some of my healing saliva?”

“All of the research suggests that they will not require food. All of the historical accounts contradict this by suggesting dragon’s mates have continued eating in the same manner as before. My hypothesis is that they have a short grace period after consuming your healing fluids, perhaps a day to three, for which they will require no sustenance. After that, the time they haven’t eaten will rapidly accrue. Dragons in the past haven’t taken the risk and had their mates care for themselves as if the healing wasn’t always available.”

“That makes a lot of sense. On the topic of magical healing, how does my healing work with things like fingernails and hair in my human form? When I was in the pool with Zoey and Mallory, I had this fleeting thought about how my hair used to get destroyed by the swim season. Are they a part of me and will be maintained in the same manner, or are they dead cells and won’t be healed?”

“If you think about them as a part of you subconsciously, they should be maintained. If your technical understanding of the body makes you view these extremities as external entities, they won’t be sustained. It’s how the technically foreign bacteria inside you are preserved by the mana.”

“So, it’s based on intent?”

“Do you know how to shape mana-sourced fire into a rope with physics and thermodynamics, or did you simply visualize it and share your intent with the mana last session?”

“Right. Makes sense. Speaking of the last session, I clearly used at least some amount of mana through all of that evocation practice, and Sam pretty much exclusively used my energy then, too. I haven’t gone out and purchased any physical manifestations of wealth to surround myself with or store in the apartment. That pretty clearly kills that hypothesis, right? I still feel pretty good and I have plenty of energy remaining.”

Antonin nodded, “I had proffered my instincts suggesting that theory wasn’t quite correct. I think the truth is related to wealth or acquisition and accumulation of wealth, and this alignment caused the misconception. I’d like you to stay aware of changes in your fatigue level and mana capacity. We will continue using it to train you, potentially more vigorously if I can locate accommodations, if you demonstrate reliable generation.”

“That makes sense. I have one more thing to tell you, but it might change your plans.”

I paused for a breath and attempted to collect my thoughts. I then explained the tumultuous experience of opening up Fae Book after hearing Sam’s complaints and how I sorted through all of the requests. Then I explained how it became evident that a group had realized I was a dragon based on how the requests changed from generic corporate endorsements and appearances to specific dragon-related inquiries.

I was astonished at how nonchalant Antonin’s reaction was. He simply nodded and said, “We expected this in time. A bit soon, but what can you do?”

“Nothing now, I suppose. My question from this was about the content of the requests: Why were so many of the proposals sexual in nature? Why did it feel like every other one was either requesting sexual services or offering sexual services as payment? And then, from the ones I wouldn’t necessarily put in that category, I was offered someone's daughter as payment on two separate occasions and was then proposed for marriage three times. What the fuck is up with that?”

Antonin sighed as if the answer was obvious, and I was wasting his time by asking. Which was fair, considering the amount of time we had spent discussing my concerns before moving on to his previous plans for the day.

“James, you are a dragon. It will take time, but you must try to get that into your head. The expectations for you are different from those for a human man. Dragons are expected to accumulate wealth, accumulate lovers, and accumulate power. Those are things you are expected to desire and deal in. They expect you to want those things, to hoard those things, to use the ones you have acquired to obtain even more. They are appealing to their expectations of you.”

“So, let me just get this straight: It’s normal and expected for dragons to take multiple partners?”

“Universal.”

I sunk back into my chair. It certainly explained why Cynthia had no apparent issues with Sam joining Beth and me. It also explained why Zoey’s concerns were based on a perception of me having lied to her in the past instead of being wholly focused on how I was already in a relationship. It explained why Mallory wasn’t telling me off for being a two-timing cheating son of a bitch and lying to her friend. Instead, she approached me calmly and rationally to try and understand my situation. The absolute clusterfuck that I was sure was unique to me was, apparently, perfectly normal, expected even.

And then Antonin added another asterisk, “Universal, that is, among males of your species. Females tend to be incredibly discerning and finicky when choosing a mate. When there were enough dragons to draw meaningful conclusions, your species had something around an eight-to-one ratio of females to males. It was required for males to take multiple mates to propagate your existence. Females would be perfectly content to share a single male with several of their kin, using their areas of expertise to empower their mate and increasing their family’s collective power base.”

Discerning and finicky was an interesting way to put it. The input the dragon had given to me made him sound discerning with how he justified his decisions. Of course, he also fell hard for three of the first available females we had interacted with after he had awoken. Either he was far from as selective as his justifications painted him, or we had one-in-a-trillion luck and found ideal candidates immediately. Eugh. Candidates. What a disgusting, insensitive, impersonal way of framing it.

“Alright, so, how do I deal with this? Is there anything we need to adjust moving forward? What do I need to know for dinner tomorrow with Aisling and the other leaders?”

“It was an eventuality that my plans already accounted for. There’s nothing to adjust for today. When you go to dinner, try to be yourself. Bow to no one, accept no offers, make no deals, and commit yourself to nothing. Simply observe and listen. If you must speak, be vague and noncommittal. You are, for all intents and purposes, a week old. Anyone pressuring you will be judged as if they are trying to get a deal from a newborn king instead of the experienced regent.”

Antonin shifted in his seat and carefully closed his notebook.

“Now, drakeling, unless you have additional confectionaries to placate me, I must insist we move on to what I had actually planned for this afternoon.”

I was out of questions that I really wanted answers to. At least out of generalized questions that Antonin could help me answer. I still had questions for Ev and Zoey. I nodded my agreement to move on to a magical lesson.

Conveniently, today’s lesson was on the subject of wards, magical barriers, and protections. Antonin led us through a multitude of exercises and thought experiments about shielding yourself. He explained the differences between instinctive reactionary barriers and well-planned, constructed wards. Antonin also explained how the intended duration and speed of construction impacted the costs in both mana and mental strain they took to enact and maintain.

I say conveniently because we had brought Beth with us. While Sam and I studied the beginner's textbook and worked through a series of minor charm enchantments together at one end of the table, Antonin investigated the boundaries of the protections around Beth. He had some hypotheses initially that included the source and intent of foreign mana mattering.

Several times I was interrupted to assist Antonin in testing something. When Antonin conjured a few ounces of water and moved it against Beth’s arm, it remained a few millimeters away from her skin. No matter how much energy he poured into forcing it against her physical form, it was like she was coated in a hydrophobic barrier. Conversely, when I conjured water, it easily lapped against Beth’s rosy skin. I moved the droplets around to connect lines between the freckles on her arm while Antonin took measurements and Beth explained what she felt.

Later, while Sam and I were testing electrical charges through magically insulated mundanely conductive material, Antonin exploded. He was fine, besides perhaps damaged pride, but he looked even wilder with soot on his face and his regularly wispy unkempt hair sticking straight up to the ceiling. He wiped his face with the back of his hand and made a note in his book, nodding along with his thoughts. He reported that Beth’s enchantments gave the appearance of yielding to a skilled intruder but instead stored attacking energy like a compressed spring. When Antonin lifted pressure for a moment to adjust the location of his explorative attack, it violently flooded him out.

After that, Antonin left Beth largely alone, instead testing Sam and me on constructing basic wards at speed. He would launch an evocation, or an illusion of one, at a designated target and we would have to protect it before it was destroyed. Sam had used my energy again for the lesson, but this time it felt like she was taking spoonfuls of soup from a massive cauldron. She still wasn’t consuming huge quantities at any particular time, but it was now recognizable when aggregated. She even commented on how much safer she felt knowing that her margin for error was larger. When we took a break, she even whispered that she loved feeling full of me in every way I could offer, her face matching her hair as her salacious words reached my ears.

After several hours of theory, exercises, and practical evaluation, I felt I reasonably grasped the basics of magical protections. Antonin waved us goodbye as he drank his third caffeinated beverage of our lesson period, decidedly more cheerful than usual. We left the archive and Sam hailed a cab to take us to our afternoon shopping destination.

 

---

 

Sam gave the taxi driver the location, and we arrived where she had requested after a short duration. On the sidewalk again, Sam led us into a massive shopping center. I wanted to call it a mall, but it didn’t have the right atmosphere for a mall. I didn’t recognize the names of most of the stores, and the little kiosks of as-seen-on-tv garbage and phone repair stations were missing. There was no quick sugary pretzel stand or ice cream chain pandering to gathering hordes of teenagers. It clearly was a mall of some kind; it just catered to a different clientele and made the term ‘mall’ feel wrong.

Sam guided us through the balcony walkways, determined to locate her destination. Beth held my hand and grew increasingly uncomfortable the further we delved into the building. When we finally entered a boutique, she spoke up.

“Uhh, Sam? Isn’t this place going to be, like, really expensive?” She nervously asked.

Sam shrugged, “Well, it’s not going to be cheap, but that’s what we want, right? I mean, if James's going to be a major figure in life here, don’t you want him to be a striking figure out in public? When everyone else has their eyes on him and on us, don’t you want to look good?”

Beth weakly answered, “I guess.”

Sam continued, “Well, I want to look good for him. He’s given me everything I ever wanted in the last twenty-four hours, so if he’s got an appearance to make, I’m going to ensure he looks as charming as he is and that we look just as cute by his side.”

I felt a flash of resentment from Beth, a surprising emotion I hadn’t expected. She glanced at me, knowing I had felt her turmoil, and shook her head. ‘Not now,’ her expression read.

Which was sensible, not only because this wasn’t the place to have a soul-searching discussion about what part of Sam’s statement had offended her, but also because the attendant from the store was greeting us and Sam was already off to the races explaining what she wanted.

While Beth and I were hesitating, Sam introduced us, and I saw the woman give a double take when I was casually introduced as ‘our boyfriend.’ Somehow that was brushed past, and Sam explained why we were here. The conversation went over my head and apparently over Beth’s as well, so the two of us remained silent observers. The redhead and the employee discussed color patterns and fabric and cuts and seasonal variations and country of origin for five minutes while Beth and I stood in silence behind them, awkwardly awaiting an opportunity to offer our nonexistent opinions.

The opportunity never came. The attendant had taken a collection of notes while talking with Sam, which she patted lightly when their conversation ended. Sam turned to us, kissed me on the cheek, told me to text her when I was done here and took Beth’s hand to leave the store.

Somehow I had found two take-charge, type A personality women who would take control when the situation demanded it. Oh god. Three. Zoey absolutely was as well. I shivered at the thought of them stepping on each other’s toes and setting each other off. I would need to talk to Beth about what had bothered her here and then try to explain that to Sam. For my own sanity. The attendant cleared her throat, and I realized we had been standing here while my mind was off in the clouds, and she was politely waiting for me.

“Hi. Your girlfriend said you needed a comfortable outfit for tonight and then a set of professional outfits for this week. I’ll need to take some measurements. If you’ll follow me this way, we can get started.”

I did, and she quickly led me back to an individual room. She took her tape measure and began getting the numbers she wanted. I was quickly stripped down to just my shorts as she went about her business and had me try on several garments to see how they lay and where the potential issues were when I moved around. I simply followed all of her instructions. I was confident Sam had a plan in mind and that it would be more than adequate.

My mind turned to dwell on the events that transpired over the last week. Having a politely professional tailor take measurements silently lent itself to a moment of introspection. She let her hands linger on my body longer than I felt comfortable with while taking her measurements, but I couldn't smell any greater intent in her motives. For the moment, at least, nothing crazy was happening, and I could attempt to catch my breath.

I felt lucky. Undeserving. I was waiting for the other shoe to drop. I'm not some tortured anime protagonist out to say something horribly clichéd like 'good things don't happen to me,' but my fortunes of late certainly felt out of balance.

Yes, I had abandoned my degree and future in the world I knew. That was less than ideal on its own. But it had been replaced with the knowledge that I was a newborn king in a world of opportunity where those I hadn't yet met prostrated themselves for a chance to curry my favor. I didn't just have opportunity — I was opportunity.

Somehow, the scared girl I had found on accident that night was actually a determined, driven, charismatic young woman who had been dealt a shitty hand by the great dealer of life. She had connected me back with a childhood friend, who I had thought was lost to the whims of time and forever destined to be a missed connection. And then had invited that childhood friend to our bed. Yes, there were some less-than-benevolent desires there, but in the grand scheme of things ‘I want Cynthia to be my surrogate mother’ and ‘I want to watch James have sex with Sam’ were utterly benign.

And now the childhood friend, on the same day she finally found what she wanted in our relationship, had organized a shopping spree so that I would look good when I talked with a third girl. On the surface, Zoey's hatred of me could have suggested a shoe about to drop, but I knew better. She didn't hate me. She hated an idea of me that only existed in her mind, where I had manipulated her and controlled her from the shadows. Her hatred would pass when those power dynamics were demonstrated to be nothing but specters lurking in the shades of fear and ignorance. Probably. At worst, it would be a learning experience and missed opportunity.

So I was just readying myself for the inevitable karmic balance to zero the scales. Logically, I knew that wasn't how the universe worked. Sometimes, a random guy wakes up and finds out he's the king. Yeah, it's absurd to find out that it's you, or that it's your best friend and he's bringing you with him into his newfound regency, but it's actually not that insane to find out that it happened to someone. Absurdly unlikely events happen to someone every day. All the logic in the world didn't dampen my human emotional reaction. I had experienced a high, and now I should expect a rebound to a low. It was a fallacy, but a comforting one, with the notion of balance, justice, and karmic retribution. My discomfort was actually reassuring to me. I knew that two parts of me were definitively not human, so having a normal human response, illogical as it was, alleviated some of my concerns about losing who I was.

While having my own tumultuous contemplation, I felt, through my inhuman magical connection, a tremendous outpouring of emotion from Beth. Something had upset her, and then her feelings grew cataclysmically overwhelming. My dragon's first instincts were to tear down the walls literally, destroying everything that hindered protecting our mate in any way. I tamped down on that response to think of a slightly more reasonable reaction. My human brain processed the surge and discovered that it wasn't distress or fear or anger or pain or anything worrisome at all. I felt a minor hiccup of matronly pride from Sam, who would be near Beth at worst, and felt reassured. I had no reason to worry. The flood from Beth was joy and surprise and elation and love. There was no need for me to rush to them, but I was curious about what I had missed. That this outpouring had erased all of the initial pain was a bonus.

So I worked with the tailor to select things from Sam's pre-approved list. I came away with a dozen outfits I could wear to professional functions and another handful that were more business casual daily wear. A pair of dressy, cleverly subtle sneakers, grey slacks, and a black shirt with a red vest was what I had chosen for tonight. I felt I looked like a pompous prick, but it was all on Sam's list. They weren’t all complete and fitted to me – only the clothes I was now wearing had been done while I was here. The rest I would have to collect tomorrow.

Which was fine with me. I had my clothes and now needed to find my… girlfriends. I didn’t know that I would ever feel comfortable saying it like that. It wasn’t wrong, but it felt wrong. I texted Sam, and she gave me passable directions to a very feminine outlet of some exclusive brand or another. Sam’s text had said they were at the changing area, and I was affronted by a cacophony of overwhelming scents from their perfume section as I made my way there.

As I poked my head into the hallway of changing rooms, a lightning-fast Beth tackled me. Or perhaps would have tackled me if she had the strength to. She launched herself into my chest and wrapped her arms around my torso, mumbling into my chest as a handful of tears flowed down her face. I allowed my arms to embrace her, and while awaiting an explanation, I found myself happy to have worn my hoodie over my new clothes.

Sam slowly came out of one of the dressing rooms, and I got my first view of her in the clothes she had picked out for tonight. I hadn’t had a chance to see Beth; she was simply a streak in my vision before she impacted my chest.

Sam looked good. She was still embracing her effortlessly beautiful style. Now she matched my observation of others — putting effort into looking casual and relaxed. She wore black yoga pants that looked painted onto her legs. Red highlights accented her curves, drawing your gaze to her womanly hips. Her top was a low-cut, silky, strapless matching red top. That was where the effort was apparent, the sensuality of the top masking any of the comfort of her bottoms. She looked hot, all woman, and when she strutted out of the changing room, she had the confidence to match. She looked like an alpha in the prime of their life, hungry and on the prowl. My dragon soul heartily approved.

"Your girlfriend only just realized that your healing powers did more than fix her eyes. I pointed out how adorable she was and how her little button nose made her look innocent and sweet. She told me to stop lying, that her nose was ugly as sin and broken and disfigured. Then she looked at herself."

Beth was still clinging to me, but she pulled away to turn her face up.

"Why didn't you tell me you had fixed it?"

"I had noticed the process starting a couple days ago, and I wanted to wait for it to work. I wasn't sure how much it would do and didn't want you to fixate on it or mislead you into thinking I would fix it if I wasn't actually able to."

She gave me a stern, pouting face and archly stated, "Fine, but you owe me. I want one kiss and one 'You're pretty' every day until I forgive you."

I laughed, "Those terms are acceptable, although I'm not sure I agree with the idea that I owe you for being cautious about healing."

The resentment peaked its head up for another moment and then fluttered away.

"Okay, that's not what I should've said. I still want to be kissed and told I'm pretty."

And so I did, kissing her there and then telling her she was pretty.

"You didn't even look at me! How could you know?"

She stepped back, out of my arms, and twirled. I felt positively lecherous at the thoughts that sprung to mind while she modeled herself.

"That's what you want to wear tonight? To a dance club?"

"Yup!" She nodded assertively to my question. Sam smiled and nodded as well, confirming the decision.

I didn't have any issue with what she was wearing. The bouncer almost certainly would.

Beth looked young. Even before my magic had cleared up her scars, her petite frame, adorable face, and pixie cut made her look younger than she actually was. I had some reservations that very first night because of it. Now, her eyes were bright, gleaming emeralds full of wonder, her skin was faultless and youthfully unblemished, and her face had none of the marks she had accrued while trying to survive. She looked even younger than she had a week ago.

The outfit Sam had constructed for her emphasized that. She wore the iconic girl's uniform shoes, black and glossy flats with a single strap at the fore of her ankle. Solid black socks rose up her slender legs to just above the knee. She was wearing a plaid black and red suspenders style dress over a white dress shirt, the dress's hem lying very near where the socks terminated. When she had spun, I got a tantalizing glimpse of her rosy flesh as the dress lifted up. To top it off, she had a black with red polka dots bow-shaped hair clip holding her bangs aside.

“I don’t want you to take this the wrong way because you look amazing, but are you absolutely sure that’s what you want to wear tonight? Will they even let you in?”

Sam shrugged, “Zoey said it should be fine. She won’t be able to buy her own drinks, but she’ll be let in.”

Beth butted in, “But I don’t really want to do that anyway. Getting drunk was never really in the cards for us tonight. Would be stressful trying it for the first real time, while in a crowded public place, and trying to make a good impression on someone who might be in our lives for the future.”

Sam hugged Beth from behind as she spoke and nodded her agreement when Beth finished. Looking at them together put a potentially scandalous thought into my head, and I couldn’t help but blurt it out.

“Okay, but, are you really, really sure? With you in that, we kind of look like a family, and you’re our middle school daughter.”

Beth’s eyes lit up with a fire I had only seen a few times, and she coyly asked, “Does that mean I can call you ‘Daddy’?”

A moment of agonizing discomfort passed before both Sam and Beth started laughing at my expense.

"Okay, if you're set on it, it looks good on you. I do have another question, though. Sam, did you intentionally color-coordinate all of us, or was that an accident?"

Sam blushed crimson and coquettishly admitted, "It was intentional. I asked Beth about the color of your scales when you shifted. She said they were about that color red, rich and deep and imposing. So, I made sure to construct our outfits around it. You're going to be a great leader here, so, I wanted us to have a sort of branding to be recognizable. You know, James and team girlfriend in their colors and such."

It was, all things considered, a reasonable idea. It was also incredibly endearing that Sam wanted to match her outfits to the color of my scales. Both girls looked amazing in their outfits, and I had no reason to object. I had just been curious about how we all ended up in black and red garments.

We made our way out of the store after I paid for everything they had chosen and proceeded to the food court equivalent area of this opulent not-mall. It was an open garden adjacent to the building, where several food trucks from the area's vaunted restaurants would rotate their offerings. We made our selections and found an available table, ate our varied bougie food, and headed back to the apartment.