Jason stepped out of the bathhouse, his skin still damp, his dark hair clinging to his forehead and the back of his neck. The hot water had done its job—washing away the grime, the ichor, the lingering smell of spider and cave dust that had embedded itself in his pores over the past few days. His muscles ached less. His cuts had stopped stinging. For the first time since entering the Stonefang tunnels, he felt almost human again.

But the water hadn’t washed away the memory of what had just happened.

Mira.

The shower. The steam. The way she had emerged from the shadows without a sound—because she was always silent, always watching. The way her amber eyes had locked onto his. The way she had pressed him against the cold tile, her body warm against his, her claws grazing his chest, her tail curling around his thigh.

He hadn’t said no.

That was the part that gnawed at him, the part that twisted in his stomach like a knife. He hadn’t pushed her away. His body had responded before his mind could catch up, and by the time he thought about stopping, it was already over.

"She took advantage of me," Jason thought. "But I let her."

He didn’t know how to feel about that. Angry? Ashamed? Confused? All of the above?

He ran a hand through his wet hair and walked toward the courtyard where the others were waiting. His bare feet padded against the wooden planks of the inn’s back hallway. The ant king was nowhere in sight—Jason had commanded it to return to Mae, to protect her while she rested. The creature had obeyed without hesitation, its black and gold eyes blinking once before it turned and walked away.

At least something in his life was simple.

-

The courtyard was small, tucked between the inn and a crumbling stone wall overgrown with ivy. A few wooden benches surrounded a dry fountain. The afternoon sun was warm, but not oppressive. Birds chirped somewhere in the distance.

Mae was resting on one of the benches, her eyes closed, her brown hair spilling over her shoulders. Her chest rose and fell in slow, even breaths. She looked peaceful—more peaceful than Jason had seen her since they met. The ant king stood beside her like a statue, motionless, his red chitin gleaming in the sunlight. His black and gold eyes tracked Jason’s approach, but he didn’t move.

Across the courtyard, Ylva was sorting through supplies. Food, water, bandages. A small pile of coins. She had been busy while Jason was in the bathhouse, gathering everything they would need for the journey ahead.

Her green eyes flicked up when Jason approached. She scanned him from head to toe—his damp hair, his clean skin, the fresh shirt he had borrowed from the inn. But the good thing about the shower was that it had washed off Mira’s scent.

"You’re clean," she said. "Finally."

"Finally?" Jason raised an eyebrow.

"You smelled like something died in you."

"Something almost did!" Jason fired back

Ylva snorted. She turned back to the supplies, but her tail flicked—a sign that she was paying attention.

Jason took a breath. "We need to talk." 𝕗𝕣𝐞𝐞𝘄𝐞𝚋𝚗𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗹.𝚌𝕠𝚖

Her ears twitched. She set down the bundle of bandages and crossed her arms over her chest. Her green eyes narrowed.

"About what?"

Jason glanced at Mae, then at the ant king. Neither was paying attention. Mae was asleep—or pretending to be. The ant king’s eyes were fixed on Jason, but the creature made no move to interfere.

Jason stepped closer to Ylva, lowering his voice. "Mira. In the shower."

Ylva’s tail went completely still. Her expression didn’t change—her face was a mask of calm—but Jason saw her claws twitch at her sides. A tiny, almost imperceptible movement.

"She was there," Jason continued. "Waiting for me. I didn’t know she was there until—" He paused. "Until she kissed me."

Ylva said nothing.

"We had sex." Jason forced the words out. He didn’t look away from her eyes. "I didn’t initiate it. I didn’t say no. I just... let it happen."

The silence that followed was heavy. Jason could hear his own heartbeat in his ears.

Ylva stared at him. Her green eyes were unreadable—not angry, not sad, not anything he could recognize. Her jaw was tight with her hands were clenched at her sides.

He braced himself. For claws for her screaming, or the kind of violence he had seen her unleash on others and on himself.

But she did not attack.

"It is mating season," Ylva said.

Jason blinked. "What?"

"Mating season." Ylva’s voice was flat, controlled—like she was explaining something simple to a child. "For catborn. It happens once a year. Their instincts take over. They become aggressive. Desperate. They don’t think clearly." She looked away, her gaze drifting toward the trees.

"Mira wasn’t trying to hurt you. She wasn’t even trying to seduce you. Her body made the choice before her mind could catch up."

Jason stared at her. "You knew?"

"I suspected." Ylva crossed her arms tighter. "The way she looked at you."

She paused. "It’s not an excuse. What she did was wrong. But it’s an explanation."

Jason didn’t know what to say. He had prepared himself for anger, for tears, for accusations. He had not prepared himself for calm understanding.

Ylva turned back to him. Her green eyes were calm—calmer than he had any right to expect.

"You told me the truth," she said. "That’s what matters."

"I didn’t want to hide it from you," Jason confessed.

"And you didn’t." She reached out and grabbed his hand. Her claws were retracted. Her palm was warm against his.

"Mating season ends in a few days. Don’t put yourself in that position again."

Jason nodded. "And if she tries again? If she corners me somewhere?"

Ylva’s eyes hardened. Her grip on his hand tightened—not painfully, but firmly.

"Then I’ll remind her why wolves are apex predators."

She released his hand and turned back to the supplies, her tail flicking once before going still. She picked up the bundle of bandages and began sorting through them again, her movements efficient and unhurried.

Jason stood there, watching her.

He had expected rage. Tears. Violence.

Instead, he got understanding.

He opened his mouth to say something—an apology, an explanation, anything—but Ylva spoke first.

"We leave at dawn. We cannot stay for two days" she said, not looking up. "Get some rest. You look like shit." As Ylva cooked some food with some firewood.

Jason closed his mouth. He nodded once, turned, and walked back toward the inn.

Behind him, the ant king’s black and gold eyes followed his every step.

But if it was mating season, shouldn’t that mean Ylva should be affected as well?