Eric closed his Interface sheet with a smile, filled with the sweet satisfaction of any gamer shaping his character exactly into the hero of his dreams. Even if he had been forced to endure countless peril and hardship to get there, even if he sometimes dreaded even the thought of sleep, lest he burst awake gasping like a madman, haunted by nightmares no Strength stat could counter.
But still, as raw and recent as the wounds to his psyche, perhaps his soul were, he had damn well made the most of the opportunities presented his way. As indicated by the essence infused gear he wore, and his absolutely absurd stats for any 9th level would-be hero.
But his biggest prize by far had been one he would reveal to no one. All the now gold swirling in his ES Space that he didn’t even dare look at too closely, lest he burst under the burden when its presently weightless wave-function collapsed.
But one thing he was damn certain of was that somewhere there must a back-channel by which he could buy the information he needed to get and stay ahead, no matter how forbidden it was to share the galactic secrets of ascension with any noob clan that hadn’t sworn to suck the metaphoric member of whichever asshole race of tyrants made up the rules of this ‘Unified System’ that so favored the e lite over everyone else.
“The hell with that,” he muttered to himself. “I am definitely putting my Master Criminal and Negotiator perks to maximum effect.”
He thought he had said it quietly enough that no one had heard a word.
But of course Rica was peering back back at him with a too discerning gaze. “You okay, hero?”
Eric grinned at her wink. “Right as rain, with such a pretty guardian looking out for all of us.”
This earned a snort form one of the men riding the wagon wearing little more than a sheathed knife and clothes that had definitely seen better days. Still, he had a strength, a presence about him that made Eric think he possessed at least one Professional, Trade, or other Noncombat class, even if he lacked the gear and physique of any adventurer, with just a single leather satchel by his feet.
“And she’s about the only one looking out for us. Including yourself… Master Criminal. The handful of elves didn’t do much but nearly get themselves killed.”
Eric frowned at those words, doing his best to ignore the too knowing look in the man’s eyes, turning to glance back at the wagon behind them, the elf he had treated being held in the arms of his partner, shooting a grateful smile his way even now.
The sneering man snorted. “Should have let that fey little bitch die. Fucking elf lover.”
Eric slowly counted to ten, choosing to let that comment go, before speaking. “The way I see it, that elf, and all the others escorting us, risked their lives fighting homicidal orcs, so you didn’t have to. By rights, you owe them your life, and they haven’t asked for a damn thing. The least you could do is show a little gratitude.”
The man blinked, as if surprised by Eric coming so directly to their defense, even after healing one of them, before glowering his way. “Like I give two shits what some ‘Master Criminal’ has to say.”
Words that earned a few scowls among the travelers, and a few nods as well.
One particularly angry looking youth with features that might have been handsome if his face wasn’t twisted with bitterness, scowled his way. “So, how the hell did you earn that title? Rob the elves?”
The hard-eyed man beside him smiled his agreement. “I’ll bet that’s exactly what happened. Isn’t it, Master Criminal? Sure as shit, you got a lot of sweet loot you could share with good friends. Friends you might want on your side, if the law ever comes looking your way.”
This earned a hostile look from the obvious father of a trio of girls, at least one of which was radiating the potency of a fledgling adventurer, wearing the basic boiled rawhide and shield of the Javelineers, along with a handful of roman-style pilum, clearly a girl who had been leveling up her Conscript class the only way available to her, though Eric was positive she hadn’t broken through to level ten yet, and she certainly wasn’t above speaking her mind.
“Shut your face, Nils. And Morgan, why are you even sitting beside that asshole, nodding your head like a kiss-ass bitch? You fucking know better. Didn’t you see the pair of them fight? The only reason we’re alive is because our ‘Master Criminal’ charged those pig-faced fuckers! Fuckers you were perfectly happy to chum up with, while they were making our lives a living hell!”
The young man glared at the girl. “Get off your high horse, Lucy. Unlike you, I don’t have a Class, so I did what I had to, in order to survive!”
“You think I didn’t?” the girl who couldn’t have been more than sixteen shouted. “Hunting rats leveled me up. Hunting rats fed my family. Hunting rats kept my sisters safe! But I never sold out my own kind, Morgan! How many people did you rat on by the time the elves rescued us?”
“It doesn’t matter!” the boy shouted. “Every person I ratted out meant another week no one was forcing my family into the fire pits, Lucy. Besides, the whole fucking town reset! All of them lost their memories of the last six months. No one remembers a thing! Not even my family...” He sobbed, shaking his head. “My family didn’t even recognize me. After all I did to keep them safe, they think I’m dead!”
“I know,” Lucy said, her face strangely pitying. “Because the classmate I remember really did die, something ugly and bitter taking his place. But at least you have a chance to start over, Morgan. Because as fucked up as your choices were… at least you kept your family safe. Even if you imperiled a dozen others, you fucking sellout… at least you kept them safe.”
Morgan flushed with sudden heat. “It’s this asshole’s fault!” he screamed, jabbing his finger at Eric. “He’s responsible for it. All of it! I can feel it, can’t you? He’s why my parents can’t remember me!” The boy snarled, shaking his fists with humiliated fury, before turning his hot gaze Eric’s way. “You’d better pay up, asshole. You owe me! You owe all of us, for destroying our lives!”
Only then did the foolish youth wince, noting the hot glares the entire wagon was sending his way.
All save for the grizzled man beside him, nodding in grim agreement. “Kid’s right, ‘Master Criminal.’ Our families don’t even recognize us. Way I see it? You owe us. And if you don’t pay up, I don’t see any reason why the Freetown guard should let a criminal like you inside their city walls.”
Nils flashed a cold, hard smile then. “It would be a right damn shame if people found out that you were carrying a fortune in loot, with no place to shelter up, wouldn’t it? Damn good way to get yourself… killed. But if you were to share your good fortune with your new best friends, I don’t see why we can’t do our part to make sure your passage into Freetown goes nice and easy.”
Eric gazed coldly at the man’s predatory smile. He didn’t need his Social Perception and Master Criminal perks both flaring brightly to know that he’d be a fool to trust this ugly bastard even as far as he could throw him. And Eric was pretty sure he could throw him a good twenty yards. Fifty, if he took the time to spin him around a bit.
“Yeah, why am I not surprised that message was blared out to the entire world?” The cynic inside him was pretty sure that he already knew the net result, whatever the original System intentions.
Elite scions would be revered and protected by their clans, feted with prizes that assured their ever growing ascension, while lone upstarts like him, without any backing at all, would be torn apart by all the jackals looking to get ahead on his corpse, with all the powerful factions tutting at the folly of primitive races with tight little smiles, pleased as punch at the destruction of any possible competition for their chosen heirs.
Of course, he had nothing at all to base that on, save his own paranoia and a handful of years seeing just how ruthless the acting business could be. But the looks the boy and the grizzled old veteran were giving him, that latter clearly having nothing but contempt for the elves that had risked their lives to defend him, made it clear that he’d best sleep with one eye open around them.
Or better yet, not sleep near them at all.
He looked up to Rica. “Hey, beautiful?”
“Yes, hero of my heart?”
He flashed a hard smile for the pair of men now flinching at his gaze. “Okay if I make an executive decision?”
She nodded without missing a beat. “Go for it.”
The grizzled man’s eyes widened when Eric abruptly grabbed the lapels of his leather vest, impossibly quick hands effortlessly disarming the razor-sharp dagger the man had been holding tight, as if readying himself to strike the moment Eric wasn’t expecting it.
But of course, he had been.
“Hey, what the hell are you doing? Let go of me, motherfucker!”
“Sure,” Eric said, tossing him right out of the wagon.
He couldn’t help cracking a grin as the man rolled and tumbled before picking himself up. “You’ll pay for that, bastard!” the man said, shaking his fist as he chased after them.
Eric flashed his warmest smile at the dozen or so passengers now radiating visible fear. And no small amount of admiration, at least from Lucy’s family.
“Say, did that asshole have a bag of personal items he was carrying with him?”
“You through that guy right off the wagon. What the fuck!” said a suddenly pale-faced Morgan while Lucy solemnly nodded and pointed to the grizzled man’s wares. “You’re going to let him back in though, right?”
Mana Sight skill check made!
His smirk instantly froze when he sensed exactly what was in the leather satchel Nelly handed him. But still, before he did something that could never be taken back… he had to be sure.
He was surprised at the way his hands trembled at the sight of a dozen slave collars carefully, almost lovingly nestled within their case, Eric now effortlessly sensing the low level, yet extremely sophisticated magic no doubt tied to a specific Profession.
Eric looked up from the nightmare collection of collars to glare at the man racing towards them.
For all his bluster and bile, Nils still had the sense to freeze, stock still, trembling before the intensity of hate in Eric’s killing gaze. Because what he had first intended as a temporary lesson had just become a permanent banishment as he spat out words it disgusted him to even say aloud. “No, that asshole’s not coming back, period. And in case you’re wondering why...”
Unceremoniously, he dumped out the contents of the man’s satchel, earning gasps and sharp curses from more than a couple refugees who turned around and spat curses at the man still vainly chasing after them.
Lucy’s gaze went ice-cold, and even Morgan flinched at the sight. “That fucker actually brought those things with him? He was really going to try to sell slave collars in Freetown?” She shook her head with disgust. “We did what we had to, to survive in Gilton. We became what the orcs made us into, or we died. It was that simple. But that asshole had a choice, the moment we left!”
She glared at her own javelin with disgust. “It’s not like me or Rica got to choose how we’d train for our classes, after all.”
Rica, eyes scanning forward, having completely distanced herself from the conversation, still gave a quick nod. “Got that right, Lucy. But at least now you got choices, once you get to Freetown.”
Lucy nodded enthusiastically. “I do! Only problem is, I have no idea what to choose, save the class I’ve been training for.”
Morgan was still gazing at Eric with horror. “You just threw Nils off the wagon. Like he was a pile of garbage!”
Rica nodded. “That’s because he is,” she said, now gazing pointedly at Morgan. “That asshole dared to threaten the man who helped save the whole damned city from those fucking orcs. You do get that, don’t you, Morgan? The elves and orcs have been pussy-footing around for months, both knowing that a frontal charge was suicide. Orcs had their cannons, elves have their archers, and a forest they know well.”
Lucy flashed a heart-felt smile Eric’s way, even as the rest of the passengers seemed to be gazing his way in a new light, and the grandmotherly figure holding a sleeping little girl was definitely beaming his way with warm, twinkling eyes.
“Eric’s the one who broke the stalemate. he’s the one who single-handedly claimed over a hundred orc lives...”
Morgan paled and swallowed, looking like he wanted to say something… anything… before lowering his head. “Shit,” he said softly, at last. “I didn’t know. But what about that Master Criminal title?”
Rica nodded. “You’re right. He did earn that System-wide title. Because what greater Robin-Hood of a rogue could anyone ask for than a man who helped steal thousands of captured souls from the clutches of a race of slavers and butchers who see people as little more than property? Because our Eric is indeed a master criminal. One who robbed those fucking orcs blind...before helping the Elves cleanse them from our city for good.”
Lucy’s father nodded with a certain amount of satisfaction. “So he’s a hero. I figured that much out, seeing him take on those orcs with his bow, System title aside. Still, you’d think he would have earned the title ‘Champion,’ or something. Not, well...”
The author's tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.
“Master Criminal?” Rica said with a snort. “Yeah, I agree. But remember, this ‘System Interface,’ or whatever it is, echoing through the skulls of everyone with any sort of class or Profession, is no human invention. As far as it’s concerned, Eric’s a rogue who outsmarted slavers, so it can call him whatever it wants. What matters is that we, the actual rightful citizens of this world, remember who our heroes are, no matter how invaders might try to tar and feather his reputation by damning him with twisted praise, or otherwise.”
The more than a few passengers nodded thoughtfully at her words, and Eric thought his girl was being awfully clever, and brilliantly covering for the fact that he had indeed earned that title doing exactly what it implied.
Effectively robbing both the orcs and the elves, along with the CSA and everyone else who thought they had a claim to that absolute fortune, six ways to Sunday. And he’d do it again in a heartbeat, even without the gold, if he could secure another 25 stat points for his trouble. Especially since he was all but certain that future titles would be extremely hard to come by, and that he had effectively won a lottery of sorts, even if only by dint of taking mad gambles and a hell of a lot of perilous risks.
He shouldn’t expect future boons to ever come that easy again.
And it hadn’t been easy at all, Eric thought, having put his life on the line countless times that night alone.
Still, he didn’t hesitate to let the warmth and sudden bonhomie atmosphere of the wagon lift his spirits just a bit, even as he kept an eagle eye on a furiously cursing Nils, chasing after the horse-drawn wagons and carriages and, Eric was pleased to see, slowly but steadily losing ground.
The elves original hard gazes sent Eric’s way turned to looks of disgust after he deliberately held up the slave collars, before deliberately setting all of them ablaze. To the fresh outraged screams of Nils.
He then turned to a pale-face Morgan. “Lucy is right. It’s never too late to turn over a new leaf.”
The boy swallowed and shot Eric a hard glare, before crumpling in unexpected tears. “What’s the fucking point? I already lost everything. My family doesn’t recognize me, people I...god… Lucy’s right. I became the biggest fucking sellout spy just to keep them safe, and to them I’m dead! So now I have no one, and I can’t even stand looking in the mirror.”
Eric winced, hating the fact that he was starting to pity Morgan. Who at the end of the day was just a sixteen year old boy who had been pushed to his limit at world’s end.
Clearly he had broken in ways ugly and bitter.
But if Eric had been in this kid’s shoes, classless, helpless, and hopeless, what wouldn’t he have done, who wouldn’t he have sold out, to save his sister?
He shuddered at the thought, pretty damn certain he would have done far worse than sell out a dozen strangers, if it kept his sister alive.
So who the hell was he to deny anyone a second chance?
“So start over.”
“How?”
Eric shrugged. “Honestly, I’m not sure. But I’ll tell you this much. Lucy’s right. Your family’s right. The Morgan of before is stone-cold dead.”
The boy’s face took on a sickly pallor as he gazed up at Eric with wide, desperate eyes.
Eric patted the boy’s shoulder. “If you were truly an irredeemable asshole, you wouldn’t be feeling half so bad as you are. And you know what? If our positions were reversed, if my family was counting on me, a zero level nothing to keep them alive… is there any line I wouldn’t cross to keep the people I loved safe?” He flashed a sad smile. “Fact is, I can’t answer that question. But you had to. At sixteen, you had to make a choice that absolutely no one should be forced to make.”
Morgan swallowed, blinking back tears as he glared at his own trembling hands. “But I already failed. I mean...” He shuddered. “I really, really fucked up.”
“But at least you see that,” Lucy said. “Thank fucking god. At least your eyes are finally open, Morgan.”
Eric nodded. “Morgan the boy sounds like he has a lot to answer for.”
The youth before him paled but didn’t deny it, lowering his head.
Eric patted his shoulder. “But what I’m interested in is Morgan the man.”
The boy blinked. “Morgan the man?”
Eric nodded. “The man who will show respect and gratitude to those willing to help him get a fresh start. The man who will work his ass off to find an apprenticeship, learn a trade, or otherwise walk a righteous path through life that he can take pride in.”
He turned Lucy’s way. “A path that former friends, and maybe future friends, can support him taking. A path that’s the farthest thing from whoever he was before. Because Lucy’s right. All of Gilton had the boon of a massive reset. So in a way, you do too. Now take a look behind you.”
Eric pointed at a hot-faced Nils screaming at them from a growing distance, snarling with undisguised hate, totally unaware of the doom loping behind him.
“You can be like that self-centered prick who cares about nothing but himself, who would happily betray those who risked their lives to save him, and be hated by absolutely everyone.”
And it said something, Eric thought, when he coldly raised up the bag that had contained the slave collars to meet Captain Teila’s hard stare that she flashed a nod of unspoken agreement, exchanging looks with her men such that they did absolutely nothing but stay close to the caravan when a furiously cursing Nils was abruptly pounced upon by a pack of frenzied pitch-black jackals, his snarled curses abruptly turning to desperate screams.
And Eric didn’t hesitate to lock his grip on a shuddering Morgan’s shoulder, forcing him to look on, as Nils was devoured alive.
“A forked path lies before you, my friend. You can choose to be like that cruel, pitiless bastard, happily consorting with slavers and flesh peddlers, making a fortune on the pain of others. Until karma finally claims its due, and not a single soul lifts a finger to help you, when men or beasts just as ruthless as you finally come to collect payment in full.”
He then turned a visibly trembling Morgan’s head to peer at the freckle-faced Lucy who so clearly cared for him, though he was too bitter to see it, and her family. “Or you can be like Lucy. Warm of heart, a hero to her family, willing to do whatever it takes to defend and feed them. Or like her father, a hardworking man who doesn’t need any class or power to love and care for his kin. A man who will be mourned and loved by all those whose lives he touches when death finally claims its due… however many decades that will be from now.”
“Hopefully a hell of a lot of decades,” the man said with a gruff smile, though Eric had already turned Morgan’s face to gaze back at the pack of crimson-mawed jackals.
“Or you can be like Nils. Loved by no one, without a single soul to morn his bitter death when he finally passes on.”
A pale-faced Morgan didn’t even wipe away the tears in his eyes, crumpling into a ball. “I fucked up. I fucked up so bad.”
Eric blinked, surprised to see Lucy actually gather him into her arms, holding him tenderly while he sobbed his heart out.
He shared a complicated glance with Lucy’s father, his Social Perception making it exquisitely clear that the two had clearly been an item before the world came to an end, and that the father definitely had mixed feelings about a reformed Morgan dating his daughter again… but was willing to take that gamble, if he could save the boy from becoming the bitter slaver’s sycophant that Nils had clearly become.
Eric gave them all a warm nod. “To fresh starts,” he said to the wagon’s occupants, genuinely wishing them all the best, before hopping out.
Rica glanced his way, professional hawk-like demeanor cracking just a bit to show the vulnerable girl underneath.
As if afraid he would leave already, after all his words of grace and doing the right thing.
“Where are you going?”
Eric flashed a cheeky grin. “To go kill some man-eaters. Can’t have assholes like that putting people’s lives in peril between Sylvan Alliance territory and Freetown.”
She gave a throaty chuckle, even as half the wagon gazed at Eric in horrified wonder.
“You mean you...” said one middle-aged woman, who swallowed her own words when Rica caught her gaze, slowly shaking her head while Lucy squealed. “Ooh… Experience point time! Can we party up?”
You have successfully formed a party with Rica Lightfoot and Lucy Stone! Blood magic resonance in play. Each party member will keep 50% of earned experience, and split the other half between party members!
Lucy’s eyes widened as she effortlessly loped beside Eric and the girl he was definitely falling for. “Shit, you can share experience?”
Rica peered at him curiously. “How?”
Eric winked. “Blood magic,” he said, readying his bow before Rica gently lowered his hand, handing him a brace of javelins.
He blinked at her bemused smile.
“Would you like to learn?” she softly asked.
Eric, sensing far more was at stake than a single lesson, slowly nodded.
Lucy flashed an approving grin when they came to a halt, Rica carefully placing one of the javelins in his right hand while positioning the rest of the brace, along with his lizard scale shield formerly secured as a backplate to his backpack in his off hand, both for defense and to serve as a counter-lever for a powerful wind-up throw. An instant improvement over his own less than perfect technique.
“Now watch how I do it,” she said, as the tip of her flint-headed javelin began to vibrate and glow with a shocking amount of killing intent before her compact and surprisingly powerful frame whipped forth and she released with a fluid overhand cast, the shaft streaking through the air with hardly any arc at all, before blasting right through the largest ebony jackal’s skull.
Eric’s eyes widened while Lucy whistled and clapped. “Nice one, Rica!”
Eric gazed intently at his target as the yipping howling pack of Jackals turned their way with feral snarls. He took a careful step, twisting his hips, then casting his throw just as he had seen Rica do, deliberately not using his own less than perfect technique, only slightly disappointed when his weapon flew over the heads of the charging Canidae, and without any vibration or glow at all.
“Close!” Lucy commended, her cheerful voice of moments before replaced by the hard focused gaze of a seasoned hunter, casting powerful if unenhanced javelins using the same technique that Rica was, the jackals being picked off one by one in a steady shower of death, while Eric focused only on casting his weapon just as the girls before him were, feeling a certain satisfaction when his third Javelin finally hit its mark.
You have successfully hit Charging Jackal with flint-tipped javelin!
You have successfully quantized Javelin Throwing at Rank 1! This skill is modified by Strength, Finesse, and Perception! Rate of learning modified by maximum potency to skill conversion, Contender Status, Node Configuration, and +60% learning speed enhancement for all ranged weapons!
At that moment it all suddenly clicked, Eric listening to his body as he shifted his hips and rotated his shoulders a bit more fluidly with his forth, fifth, and sixth cast, only the last one missing as the last of the pack abruptly twisted around and scattered through the thick brush with panicked yips, their pack utterly decimated by the onslaught of javelins.
Rica and Lucy shared a nod. “Not bad, spear sister,” they said in unison, flashing pleased smiles, eyes clearly alight with the thrill of the hunt.
Lucy gave Eric an appraising eye. “He has potential, sister. Definitely a keeper.”
Rica beamed, not hiding the flush to her cheeks. “I certainly think so,” she said with a slightly husky voice.
Lucy flashed a mischievous grin. “Want me to keep watch tonight? Don’t worry, Vitality and Perception are now both 15.”
Rica nodded. “Actually… yeah. Especially once Ria falls asleep. That would be great.”
Lucy chuckled wickedly at the way both of them were now blushing.
“Oh, you two look so cute together! Please tell me we can go hunting again, though? Seriously. If there’s one thing that worries my dad, and me as well, it’s finding a decent party to level up with in Freetown that understands my fighting style, and will actually have my back.”
Rica gently squeezed the girl’s hand and nodded before the pair split up to retrieve their javelins, Eric doing his part to retrieve his as well.
But as sweet as the moment of friendship and blossoming affection was, none of them had anything but cold contempt for the rictus of agony on a disemboweled Nil’s face. Not one of them offering so much as a word of pity, let alone offers to bury the body, or look for any heirlooms to return to a family that already thought him dead, after Eric reset the entire city.
Because despite shared laughter and smiles, the last half year had forced a hardness upon all of their souls. As much as they loved their friends, their cold stares welcomed only death for those they would count as foes.
Social Perception skill check made!
Eric caught Lucy’s gaze. “You really care for Morgan a lot, don’t you?”
She flushed and shook her head. “We were… before um...” she swallowed. “He was my first and only, and I thought maybe I’d marry him.” She winced. “Is it that obvious?”
Eric flashed a sympathetic smile. “Not exactly. But you clearly cared about him, even after he had been so infused with bitterness at the choices he had been forced to make in the city that he thought himself firmly in Nils camp, at least until he realized that the man was actually planning on continuing his dark trade, even in Freetown. And considering how little we care for a past-tense Nils… it’s obvious Morgan means a lot to you, otherwise you never would have put up with his shit for this long.”
The girl chuckled ruefully at that. “You’re right about that! But after your um… intervention? Showing him that he wasn’t as bad as Nils, that it was okay to start over, however shameful the past half year has been for all of us… letting him know that what happened in fucking orc town doesn’t have to define us, I think maybe you saved more than that elven guard today.”
She flashed a brilliant smile, features unguarded and full of hope. “Even my interface says the ‘Path of Love’ is now open between us once more. And if it had done that just a day ago, I would have considered it one twisted piece of cyberware. But now?” She bit her lip, gazing Morgan’s way, who was chatting animatedly with Lucy’s father, for some reason.
Eric smirked. Because the look in her eyes said all that needed saying.
Lucy flushed under their bemused regard. “Not that it’s any of my Interface’s business. How would it know anything? I mean, it’s not giving you two any messages is it?”
Eric blinked at this, at an unexpected loss for words.
All the more so when Rica smiled and nodded, gently squeezing Eric’s hand.
“It did,” she softly said.
Eric didn’t hesitate to squeeze her hand back, wrapping her in a hug before sharing a kiss that left them both breathless and smiling with a certain hunger that had Lucy chuckling evilly.
“Looks like maybe I should be taking watch a bit early, spear sister?”
Rica chuckled throatily. “Tell the guards to keep the pace slow. We’ll make up the time… later.”
And Lucy’s laughter could still be heard when the pair of them had already sunk to the soft loamy ground, the rustle of the windswept plain hiding far more frantic movements as the pair sought to capture in fierce hot minutes all the sweet glorious passion that would, in gentler times, have been theirs to savor all night long.
Rica chuckled softly in his arms, panting for breath endless minutes later, cheeks flushed so prettily despite her naturally tan skin, gazing deeply into his eyes. “That was fucking intense.”
He swallowed and nodded. “And I loved every second of it.”
“I could tell.” She kissed his cheek, grinning wickedly as she clenched him so tightly with a warrior’s strength that he gasped in wonder before she pivoted her hips and freed him from paradise. “Still, I can’t wait to get to Freetown. Where we can actually take our time.” She kissed him tenderly once more, keeping his senses occupied while shifting things below before quickly springing to her feet, straightening herself up in a few very practical moments. “Where I can actually hold you in my arms all night long.”
“I’d love that,” he said, and he absolutely meant it as she flashed him a heartfelt smile before quickly loping ahead, no doubt feeling a mother’s pressure to always keep an eye on her child, even if their senses made it clear that the area was free of danger, and any wandering predators had been frightened off by their very thorough culling of the pack now a good distance off.
Which gave Eric the time he needed to come to grips with his own racing thoughts as he slowly loped behind her. Almost ashamed for the real reason why he had claimed her so ardently, right then and there, with her chuckling friend still in sight.
Because when it came to notices of love and romance…
his Interface had given him no such messages at all.