Emma leaned back against the wall, arms crossed, still catching her breath from the earlier excitement of watching the fusions fail. She tilted her head toward the scattered crystal fragments on the table.

"You know," she said, voice rough but thoughtful, "maybe Aya could make something that can actually hold that kind of energy. Her blacksmith skill isn't just for sharpening blades. She can forge alloys, infuse materials, shape metal at a molecular level if she focuses. If anyone can create a weapon frame or container strong enough to bind mid-tier crystals without cracking, it's her."

Fey perked up, pushing off the wall with sudden interest. "That's actually smart. Aya's Blacksmith ability scales with intent and material quality. Give her the right ores, Aethel residue, maybe some of these failed fragments as catalyst... she could probably craft a hybrid frame—something with higher tensile strength and energy tolerance. The potential would be way higher than standard scavenged gear."

Julian considered it for a moment, then nodded once. "Makes sense. We hold off on further mid-tier experiments until we return to the main base. Aya needs proper forge access and time to prototype." 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝙚𝙬𝓮𝙗𝒏𝙤𝒗𝙚𝙡.𝒄𝒐𝓶

Emma yawned loudly, stretching her arms above her head until her joints popped. "Good. Then I'm out. I'm beat. Whatever you did to me earlier, Julian... wiped me clean. Don't wake me up unless the Eclipse is literally knocking on the door."

She shuffled toward the small sleeping alcove in the corner, dragging a blanket behind her like a cape.

Dori blinked, watching Emma disappear behind the partition. "Emma... who's always so full of energy... looking that exhausted? What exactly did you do to her, Julian?"

Fey, who had been quietly observing, suddenly moved. She walked straight toward Julian with that signature lazy stride, then—without warning—dropped herself sideways onto his lap, legs dangling over the arm of the chair he sat in. She leaned back against his chest, head resting on his shoulder, one hand idly playing with the collar of his shirt.

"You're not being fair, Julian," she drawled, voice low and teasing, though there was a real edge of complaint beneath it. "Pouring all your attention on Emma like that. What about the rest of us?"

Julian's hands settled naturally on her hips—firm, steady—holding her in place so she didn't slide off. He tilted his head slightly, lips brushing the shell of her ear as he spoke.

"Seems like you want some attention too."

Fey let out a soft huff—half laugh, half sigh—and shifted to get more comfortable, pressing her back fully against him. "Took you long enough to notice."

Before Julian could reply, Zoe—who had been silent in the corner—stepped forward. She stopped right beside the chair, light-blue eyes fixed on him with that quiet, unblinking intensity. Her wolf ears flicked once, tail swaying slowly behind her.

"Me too," she said simply. Two words. No more needed.

Julian looked from Fey in his lap to Zoe standing close—then back to the sleeping alcove where Emma had vanished, and finally to Dori, who watched the scene with wide golden eyes and flushed cheeks.

He tightened his grip slightly on Fey's hips—enough to make her breath hitch—then reached out with his free hand toward Zoe.

"Come here," he said quietly.

Zoe didn't hesitate. She stepped into the space between his knees, leaning down until her forehead rested lightly against his. Her tail brushed Fey's leg—almost possessive—before curling loosely around Julian's ankle.

Fey chuckled under her breath. "Greedy tonight, huh?"

Julian didn't answer with words. He simply pulled Zoe closer—until she was half-perched on the arm of the chair—and kissed her slowly, deeply. Zoe responded in silence—lips parting, tongue meeting his in calm, controlled strokes—while her hand slid up to cup the back of his neck.

Fey watched with half-lidded eyes, then turned her head to nip lightly at Julian's jaw. "Don't forget me down here."

Dori fidgeted nearby—still flushed, still shy—but didn't look away. Her fingers twisted in her lap as she watched the three of them tangle closer together.

Julian glanced at Dori, who was still standing a few steps away—her golden-yellow eyes wide, cheeks flushed a deep pink, fingers twisting nervously in the hem of her white lingerie. She looked caught between shyness and longing, watching the three of them with quiet intensity.

"Dori," Julian said softly, voice calm but firm. "Come here."

Dori hesitated only for a heartbeat—then obeyed. She stepped forward slowly, bare feet silent on the floor, until she stood right beside the chair. Her short brown hair framed her face, strands slightly damp from earlier excitement, and the cute white lingerie clung to her curves, the tiny bows trembling faintly with each quick breath.

Julian reached out with his free hand—the one not holding Fey's hip—and gently took Dori's wrist. He tugged her closer until she was pressed against the side of the chair, her thigh brushing Zoe's leg. Dori let out a small, nervous sound but didn't pull away.

"Good girl," Julian murmured, his thumb stroking the inside of her wrist in slow circles.

Dori's breath hitched. She looked down at Fey in Julian's lap, then at Zoe leaning close, then back to Julian—black eyes shining with a mix of embarrassment and want. Slowly, she climbed onto the arm of the chair opposite Zoe, perching there like she wasn't sure if she was allowed. Her knees brushed Julian's side, the white lace shifting against his skin.

Zoe turned her head slightly—light-blue eyes meeting Dori's for a moment. Without a word, she reached out and brushed her fingers along Dori's arm—gentle, reassuring—then leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to Dori's shoulder. Dori shivered, a tiny whimper escaping her lips.

Fey chuckled low in Julian's lap, shifting her hips deliberately against him. "Look at her. Trying so hard to be brave." She tilted her head back to kiss the underside of Julian's jaw. "You're collecting us all tonight, huh?"

Julian didn't answer with words. Instead, he slid his hand from Dori's wrist up to her waist—pulling her gently until she half-fell into his lap beside Fey. Dori gasped softly as she settled there—legs draped over Julian's thigh, chest pressed against his side, face inches from his.

Zoe moved at the same time—sliding off the arm of the chair and kneeling between Julian's knees. Her tail curled around Dori's ankle again—possessive but gentle—while her hands rested on Julian's thighs.

Julian looked between the three women now surrounding him—Fey lounging lazily in his lap, Zoe kneeling in front, Dori curled against his side—and felt the heat in the room spike again.

He leaned down first to kiss Dori—slow and deep—tongue sliding against hers until she melted against him with a soft moan. Then he turned to Fey—capturing her lips in a rougher kiss, teeth grazing her lower lip. Finally he reached for Zoe—pulling her up slightly so he could kiss her too—quiet, intense, matching her silent energy.

When he pulled back, all three were breathing harder—eyes dark, bodies pressed close.

Julian's hands moved—one cupping the back of Dori's neck to keep her close, the other sliding down Fey's side to squeeze her hip. Zoe leaned forward on her own—lips brushing Julian's throat, then lower, tongue tracing the line of his collarbone.

Dori whimpered again—small and needy—her hand sliding up Julian's chest. "Julian... I want... more..."

Fey smirked against his skin. "We all do."

Zoe said nothing—just let her tail tighten around Dori's leg and her hand slide higher up Julian's thigh.

Julian's voice came out low, rough.

"Then let's give it to you."

He shifted—guiding Dori to straddle his lap beside Fey—while Zoe knelt closer, hands already working at his waistband again.

Julian deepened the kiss with Dori first—slow, languid, his tongue sliding against hers in unhurried strokes that drew soft, needy whimpers from her throat. She melted against him, small hands clutching his shoulders, her white lingerie shifting with every trembling breath. When he finally pulled back, her lips were swollen, golden-yellow eyes glassy and half-lidded.

He turned to Fey next—still draped across his lap like she owned the space. He cupped the back of her neck, tilting her head just enough to kiss her deeper, slower—teeth grazing her lower lip before soothing it with his tongue. Fey sighed into his mouth, lazy and content, her hips rolling once in a deliberate grind against his growing hardness beneath her.

Zoe knelt between his spread thighs—silent, watchful—her light-blue eyes glowing faintly in the low light. She leaned forward without a word, pressing her open mouth to the side of his throat. Her tongue traced a slow, wet line up to his ear—then flicked the lobe before sucking gently. A shiver ran through Julian; he felt the warmth of her breath, the faint graze of her wolf fangs, the soft brush of her long black hair against his collarbone.

Dori, emboldened by the kiss, slid her hand down Julian's chest—fingers trembling as they traced the lines of muscle—then lower, brushing the waistband of his pants. She hesitated, glancing up at him with wide eyes.

Julian caught her wrist gently—guiding her hand down until her palm rested over the thick bulge straining against the fabric.

"Touch me," he murmured against her lips.

Dori's breath hitched. She palmed him slowly—tentative at first—then bolder, feeling the heat, the hardness, the way he throbbed under her touch. A soft whine escaped her; her thighs pressed together instinctively.