The house was, in a way, a prison.

Mark had quickly come to start thinking it as such, at the very least.

It was a nice place, all things considered. The amenities were mostly comparable to the two taverns they’d managed to rent a room at, perhaps a little better since it had its own wash-room rather than it being the bedrooms. The kitchen and basement were fully stocked, and the place had all the signs of having been kept in good condition.

And for all that was worth, none of them could leave.

The city of Aubria, if one could call it that and not an over-sized town, was still looking for them. It wasn’t an active manhunt. The disturbance they’d caused had not merited such, but just about everyone knew to look out for their faces by now. In any other place, such a thing would not have been possible, but Aubria in particular was tricky to deal with due to the noble in charge of the place. The viscountess owned a particularly annoying maiden, one with the power to indiscriminately spread snippets of information to anyone within her range.

And the psychic had been quite dutiful in spreading the faces of Mark, Shery, and Noah to everyone within Aubria. If any of them stepped outside, they could quite immediately be seen and reported. Brye had been the only one that’d gone unrecognized thanks to her usage of illusions.

The fact that the ones that had helped them enter the city were also the ones keeping a close tab on them was not helping. Now they were stuck there with nowhere to go until the “Boss” in charge passed a ruling regarding what was to be done with Mark.

But what was gnawing at Mark was how things had so abruptly changed.

He’d been given a single room for himself to use, and neither Shery nor Brye set foot inside. They both kept to themselves, the most Mark would get out of either were teasing comments from the fox in regard to Noah and little else. Whether it was because they were as tense as he was or something else, he didn’t know.

Meanwhile, Noah too had begun to show signs of things having changed. She no longer spent her time bound or gagged, but her presence remained near Mark at almost all times. Some of it made sense. Brye and Shery weren’t keen on Noah’s new freedom. So sticking to Mark ensured some measure of protection in a way. But some of that same closeness was not making much sense either. It had started without him really noticing. Small moments of physical contact. At first she’d just seat near enough they’d touch. But as the days started rolling through, the number of excuses used to get close was increasing.

She’d brush her tail against his ankle when passing him in the corridor, and she’d approach and touch his shoulder rather than call him out. The fact that Brye looked mighty amused about this was unnerving.

Mark hadn’t cared, so long as he got Noah to behave, that was that.

Or so he thought.

“What are you doing here?”

Standing at the entrance of his room, drying his hair, Mark looked at Noah as she lay on the bed. She wore a simple light brown piece of linen that covered her whole body. The mousy maiden had been laying on her back, snoring lightly. She’d only stirred awake after he’d entered the room.

“Sleep.” She replied with the barest frown, as if it was the most evident thing in the world.

“On my bed.”

“Yes.”

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“What are you doing in my bed?”

“The sheets in the common room are uncomfortable, and the other two aren’t going to sleep.”

“And you couldn’t just go to the room with the three beds.”

“Not unless I wanted to wake up covered in bruises.”

Mark leaned back to stare at the common-room. The fireplace was still on, the fox and the gray skinned maiden were seated on the table, playing cards or something along those lines. He sighed, as he could only acknowledge Noah would be an idiot to share the room with those two. And at the same time, he didn’t want to be the one to share the room with Noah, either.

“I can just kick you out right now.”

“Or you could just kick me out once the two bitches go to sleep.”

He shrugged

Mark moved through the kitchen, grabbing one of the purple berries and putting it on his nightstand before he moved to lie on the bed. “You know how it goes.” He intoned with a warning. He didn’t expect her eyes to linger on the purple fruit with… anticipation? It wasn’t fear or apprehension, but she looked away fast.

Laying on the bed in his briefs, he didn’t bother to attempt falling asleep, just wanting to count the minutes off before he could kick her out. The lull of the resulting silence was only interrupted when he felt Noah’s back pressing against his own. Mark tensed, but nothing else happened.

Until Noah interrupted the silence again.

“I need something.”

“If it’s a piece of cheese, you can go get it yourself.”

She huffed loudly, clearly wanting to throw a retort, but holding her tongue in check. “It’s not that.” She finally declared after a long moment of silence. “Just… turn around.”

Not entirely sure what was going on, he obliged. Noah was lying on her side, not having moved, her back turned to him. And without turning to look at him, she reached out and grabbed his arm, draping it over her shoulder before she curled against his chest. The angle made it hard to see her face, but her ears turned an intense red.

“You’re kidding.” Mark frowned, confused.

“Tigermice crave contact.” She stated in a low voice. “Something about the psychic power needing touch to work properly.”

Mark tensed, eyes wide, moving to yank his arm away. Despite her diminutive size, Noah was faster and stronger. Her hands grabbed his own and locked them in place.

“Don’t.” Her voice was a soft plea.

He was mentally checking his thoughts, his defenses, his mind, measuring how much he’d have to move to throw her off properly.

“If I do anything, bite my ears, or tug my tail or…” Noah whispered the words. “Or…”

Still grasping his hand with an iron hold, she moved his palm from laying on her shoulder down her body. The movement was slow but tense, her hands trembling as she used her free hand to tug her dress upward and placed Mark’s hand against her inner thigh. The tip of his finger felt the presence of something slick just within reach.

To say he was surprised would have been an understatement.

Noah gulped loudly, trembling a bit more than she let go of his hand, hugging herself and pressing against his chest. The gray locks of hair hid her face, but the heat in her large circular ears could be felt against Mark’s face.

His finger twitched, and she responded in turn, quietly twitching.

He should have kicked her out, kicked her off, thrown her out. This was a trap. Someway, somehow, this was a trap. Even if he couldn’t consider how or why. His mind jumped to everything he’d wanted out of Noah, to the maiden that had tried to kill him, whom he owned.

Retrieving his fingers from her thighs, she let out a whimper, but froze as Mark moved his free hand under her, pulling her against his chest, his palm pressing against her lower stomach.

Grabbing the purple berry, he pulled it up to her face.

“Eat.” He whispered into her ear, slowly moving his hand back down her body.

With a silent nod, she bit into the berry. The moan was muffled by her own hands. She took the berry from him, biting again, swallowing, shuddering. Her tail wrapped around his calves as his free hand moved back down her body.

Without any prompting, she opened her thighs to give him easier access.

By the time Brye and Shery finished their game, a hazy-eyed Noah stepped out of the room, dragging herself to the pile of cloths laying in the corner to curl up and collapse, asleep before she could even register the feeling of the rough cushions against her face.