15. THE ONE WITH THE DIALOGUE

Opening the door to the apartment, I was greeted by a nervous Evgenia. Her uncharacteristic send-off made much more sense with the context that she knew she was being shifted into my House beforehand. As I tried to come inside, she bowed deferentially and then attempted to help me doff my jacket. As this wasn't a routine behavior, I stumbled uncomfortably with the limited space she left me, and she fumbled with the jacket, looking terribly ashamed afterward.

"What's this about, Ev?"

The raven-haired woman bowed her head and answered, "It would be unbecoming for the gracious patriarch of my house to deal with such trivialities."

I nodded to avoid saying anything, mostly to appease Ev and try to get inside the apartment. I was internally reeling, absolutely blindsided by the change in her behavior. She smelled even further afraid of me, which made me concerned about the drastic shift in demeanor. Combined with Bob's words, I had a conclusion I didn't like. Before, with the questionable contract, she could still appeal to someone else if she felt wronged. Now, even without the absolute control the contract provided, I was the one she would appeal to, and Aisling had given her to me in two different ways. There wasn't anyone she could petition. She was terrified of the potential overreach of authority I could enact and was looking to get ahead of it and reestablish herself as... useful?

It made me uncomfortable and was frankly painful to watch. Given what Bob had explained to me during the meeting, a few things became clear. Someone, at some point, had hurt Evgenia permanently. Given her confusing behavior whenever I entered a room and her apparent desire to always be visibly doing something, I assumed they were connected. Even when she didn’t have any work to do, and there was no reason to invent work except for appearance's sake, she was shuffling papers or, like now, doing something that was actually prohibitive to my goals.

My blind guess was that someone had viciously reprimanded her in the past inconsistently. Based on Bob’s vague hints, I could only imagine it was very shortly after she became a vampire, and was long before she came into his care. Her tendency to always be seen doing something, even if she didn’t know what that something was supposed to be because I hadn’t clearly requested anything, reminded me of my summertime jobs in high school. When the boss came around, you always wanted to be doing something, even if there wasn’t anything that needed to be done, just to give the illusion that you were needed and to avoid any spontaneous reprimands. Being efficient was actually a negative because it looked the same to someone from the outside as being lazy instead.

Ev had regularly said she was going to the office to work on things, but I hadn’t actually seen any results — which was fine, given that the only actual request I had was open-ended and probably more suited for Cynthia or Antonin. She seemed like she was just inventing things for herself to do to please me because someone else had beaten the habit into her a long time ago.

"Ev, we need to sit down and talk about what this means. You don't need to treat me any differently—"

"But we aren't in the same situation anymore. I wouldn't dare treat you the same."

"I'm the same guy I was six hours ago, the same as I was yesterday. I don't need to be waited on hand and foot, especially by someone who has more to offer. Just, relax, for today. I need to talk to Sam and Beth about a lot of things, including you, and then I need to talk to you after I touch base with them. Because I already did need to before this and had been procrastinating it. Just, tomorrow. Will you be here tomorrow?"

"Yes, my liege."

I exhaled in exasperation, "No, none of that, please. Just 'James,' nothing more. Look, I don't mean to blow you off, and I appreciate your efforts, but I can't handle this right now."

"What should I do until we discuss our future?"

I sighed, feeling frustrated at how hard I just wanted to tell her to do whatever she wanted to while knowing that would be an utterly valueless suggestion given the circumstances.

"Do you have a replacement contract draft prepared?"

Her eyes lit up in excitement momentarily, before she scrunched her eyebrows in thought. "Will I still need one now that you're my benefactor?"

"Yes. Yes, absolutely, yes. Even if I'm your representative, for your work with me, you will need a contract for your own sake."

She nodded dutifully, "Alright, I'll work on getting that for you."

With that uncomfortable experience out of the way, I crashed into my bedroom and found Beth and Sam in pajamas, sitting on the edge of the bed, various beauty products spread around them. A video playing on a second laptop was explaining how to properly apply... something. I did a double take when Beth turned her face towards me because the nearer half of her face was completely clean, looking like the girl I had gotten to know after the first night, while the other, previously obscured, side had a mess of conflicting styles of makeup haphazardly applied in small sections.

Clearly, Sam had been spending more time exploring options for Beth, and she had been practicing applying and layering different products. Unfortunately, since each product and practice section was a small segment of Beth's face, she looked like a paint swatch. I giggled reflexively at the thought of Beth covered in tiny stripes of body paint, a human flag representing our new kingdom. She must've gotten some depiction of the idea from my mind because she burst out laughing a moment later, interrupting Sam as the redhead tried to brush a powder into a clean space on Beth's cheek.

Sam looked at the two of us in confusion, but I bypassed her to sit at the head of the bed, moving the pillows against the headboard to act as a backrest. Beth's laughter progressed into a full-on giggle fit, leaving her red-faced and out of breath. When she finally explained why the two of us had broken up, Sam just shrugged, the verbal explanation missing the visual to land the humor.

Sam started collecting her things to put them away, but I interrupted her, "You don't need to stop on my account. I'm not quite ready for bed physically, but I am mentally tired. I have a couple bombs to drop on the two of you tomorrow, after I've had a moment to digest them, but I'm perfectly content to sit here and enjoy listening to the two of you."

So they continued for another 90 minutes, practicing and refining Beth's ability to do her own makeup. They tried dozens of different things, finding exactly what kind of emphasis the petite woman would want for various events, how to reinforce certain emotional portrayals, and different formality levels. When they had used all of the space around Beth's eye while testing eye shadows and lash products, Sam was delighted to use her newfound magical resources to conjure gentle streams of water to wash the other girl's face. Their supply of disposable towelettes was quickly stained with the running makeup, but neither woman seemed to mind the growing pile of consumed toiletries.

It was interesting to see just how much Beth's face had changed even in only the week that I had known her. Her nose was no longer notched with a visible misset break, and the pocking from acne scars had completely evened out. It was also compelling to see that Sam's face had slightly changed, which altered my perception of the magic. I had assumed that Beth's glow-up was due to the years of malnutrition, poor care, and questionable hygiene being repaired and undone, but seeing Sam altered made me wonder. She wasn't changing anywhere near to the same degree, but her cheekbones were a hair higher, her cheeks were slightly leaner, and her lips were a touch fuller.

The most remarkable change for me personally was that the smattering of freckles over her nose and cheeks had increased in density and visibility, popping brilliantly when the redhead blushed. I wasn't sure if Sam had noticed, but I didn't feel it was necessary to bring it up unless I saw something more significant or less pleasant develop. The changes were subtle; even in side-by-side photographs, you could miss them. I only noticed because I had spent years watching her, confused by why she alternated pushing me away and pulling me back as teenagers, committing her features to my memory forever. Falling asleep with her finally in my arms was one of the most satisfying conclusions I could've ever imagined.

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Waking up chilled and uncovered was an abnormal experience. One that I certainly wasn't expecting when I had laid down to sleep with Beth and Sam together. I wasn't sure about who would be waking up first in the future — I was reasonably consistent once I had a schedule set, Sam seemed to be a naturally early riser, and Beth's deep, nearly catatonic sleep would likely normalize once she caught up on the decades of restless nights — but even if I was last, I would've expected to be left the sheets.

My thoughts were interrupted when my mind fully stretched out, and I took stock of my incorporeal bonds with my girlfriends. Beth was feeling mildly aroused, but mostly... philanthropic? Sharing, perhaps. Focused, certainly. Sam was feeling determined, attentive, and running as hot as a space shuttle during reentry. I couldn't tell exactly what she was focused on, as her connection was still less precise than Beth's, but she felt compelled to do something while Beth helped her.

I was about to open my eyes and ask what was up when the mattress shifted, and I felt it. Warm, soft, wet, gentle, and surrounding my dick.

So I did open my eyes and lifted my head to look down the bed, finding four looking back at me. Two verdant green ones, looking at me conspiratorially, and two sky blue ones piercing my heart with absolute devotion plainly displayed that commanded all of my attention.

And then Sam moved and I forgot everything else. I knew not where we were or who else was with us. With her eyes glued to my face, she cautiously bobbed her head, her lips sliding along my rapidly hardening cock. Her soft tongue fluttered as I grew in her mouth, and there was a momentary flash of panic in her eyes as she brushed me with her teeth while adjusting to my changing size. It wasn’t intentional or particularly unpleasant, and it’s very likely that I would’ve been distracted by the experience and have missed it entirely if I hadn’t seen her reaction. I brushed Sam’s cheek with my hand, briefly spellbound by the combination of the physical sensation and the magnitude of emotion she was broadcasting.

Then she pressed slightly further down my now fully erect shaft, trying to take as much of me as she could. Her eyes must have been bigger than her mouth because she almost immediately reversed course, pulling off me entirely to cough several times.

The interruption broke the spell I had fallen victim to, and I felt compelled to say something. “Sam, not to look a gift beautiful woman in the mouth, but, you don’t have to do this.”

She looked at me, eyes watering but steel in her spirit. Rather than answer verbally, she lowered herself back, grasping me with her smooth, perfectly manicured hands and taking my head back in her mouth.

“Are you —”

Beth, who only now as she spoke was I noticing had been sitting beside Sam, carefully pulling strands of her hair to the side, interrupted my question. “James, don’t take this from her. Let her do what she wants.”

As Beth finished scolding me, Sam curled her tongue underneath my head, overwhelming me with a barrage of sensations, flooding my brain with too much pleasure to process. Any hesitation I had was lost in the brief moment it took for her to drag her tongue along my most sensitive spot, flooded out of my mind and overpowered with bliss.

If my rational mind had remained connected in any functional way, I would have acknowledged that Sam’s blowjob wasn’t the best I had ever received. After all, she had no experience giving them, having no suitors she wanted to entertain before me. Even with Beth whispering suggestions in her ear, Sam didn’t have the practice that would’ve made her truly excellent at this. She wasn’t taking me far into her mouth, leaving her hands plenty of real estate to take care of, and while her tongue hit the bullseye initially, she wasn’t always on target. The momentary taste Beth had taken the other night had been objectively more impressive, as she had taken my entire length almost immediately.

My rational mind was dead, short-circuited the moment Sam had enveloped me. Some of it had to do with our shared emotions — once it was clear I was no longer trying to put the brakes on, Sam effused dedication to my enjoyment to the point that it became blindly reverent. She didn’t have any experience, but she was using everything she was capable of to worship my body, using her mouth to produce as much pleasure as possible. Feeling her emotions, knowing with unquestionable certainty that this was what she wanted, numbed the doubts lingering in the back of my mind. Recognizing that she desperately wanted to do this allowed me to just enjoy her gift, not worry about her intentions or consequences.

The even more significant reason was that I was looking down and seeing Sam venerate my dick, her eyes fixated on my face for any hints of my reactions. Sam was the one making me feel this way. Sam! I had gone to sleep the previous night, euphoric to have her in my arms, no more confusion or ambiguity separating us. And now the girl who had left me wanting for years was unequivocally mine.

It didn’t matter to me that her attempt was objectively amateurish. It didn’t matter that Beth would’ve given me a better blowjob physically. The idea that it was Sam dedicating herself around my cock, seeing the desire in the depths of her blue eyes, and feeling her rhythmic nursing, made this one of the best experiences of my life. There was a decade of prelude leading to this moment. This may not have been the first time we were intimate, but it was the moment it sunk in: Sam was mine, and I was hers, and there was nothing in the world that would change that.

Which tipped me over the edge. Knowing that she was mine and there would be no more questions, I felt great relief, a burden released by my heart, and my body responded. I went from enthusiastically enjoying Sam’s touch to moaning out, “Oh, fuck, Sam, I’m —” and cumming into her mouth in a fraction of a moment.

I couldn’t tell you how long it took for my mind to return. I had crested hard, body and soul and heart pleasured to their breaking point by the one I had spent years idly dreaming about, wholly lost to the sensation she shared with me.

When I opened my eyes again, Sam still had her mouth around my head, her eyes closed and nose pumping air into her lungs. Her cheeks were slightly bloated, my essence filling her palate. She wasn’t moving, though she was moaning mutedly into my dick. Muffled as it was with a full mouth wrapped around my shaft, I didn’t need the sounds to tell me what was happening when the vibrations connected directly into my hypersensitive post-orgasm dick.

Beth mirrored her, actually clinging to the older woman as they were both caught in their own rapturous releases from the aftershocks of mine. Sam had told us that this was an outcome that occurred when I got off, and it had happened during our first time, but it was still surreal to watch. It made me wonder why it happened. What advantage was gained by forcing releases out of nearby females when I climaxed?

Before I could ration an answer out of my still cloudy mind, Sam recovered enough to open her eyes. She looked at me again and then glanced sideways at Beth. A dutiful smile crept onto her face, as much as possible considering she still held me in her mouth. She carefully withdrew from me, her lips a seal around my skin, keeping everything she had collected in her mouth.

With an impish glint in her eyes, Sam turned suddenly, grabbing Beth behind the neck and pressing her mouth into the startled teen’s. This resulted in an unbelievable scene where I could see Sam pushing some of my seed into Beth’s mouth, their tongues dueling in the neutral space between their lips. I was awestruck as they passed it back and forth, each taking a small portion of the total before returning it to the other woman.

Eventually, all of my cum had been consumed, and the two separated, a strand of my juices and their spit lingering between them for a moment. Sam giggled mindlessly and it snapped as she jiggled. My connection to her felt fuzzy again, less imprecise than after our first time together but along the same trajectory.

With the provocative scene before me now concluded and enough time having passed that my head was no longer ringing with the effects of Sam’s efforts, my thoughts were able to return. While I didn’t want to do anything intense today, I had a few discussions I needed to have, and Sam’s impromptu alarm actually added a little one I should have with her. Before they could settle back into the bed and delay my day by burdening me with snuggling, I made a request of Beth.

"Beth, could you go run the bath for us? I need to talk to you two, but I want to be comfortable and clean."

She smiled, pleased with herself at just how effective her instruction had been, and quietly left the room. Sam and I stayed in silence for a few moments, only our breathing audible in the room.

As my brain returned to me, I found the question I wanted to ask Sam, although I wasn't very graceful in my delivery. "Did she push you into that?"

Sam furrowed her brow and looked insulted at me, “No. When I said I hadn't ever given one in passing last night, she suggested waking you up with it and told me she would walk me through it. She felt indebted after monopolizing Mom this entire week, and then more so after I helped introduce her to the magic of makeup, so she wanted to be by my side to walk me through it to make sure it was good for you. She wanted me to blow your mind. But she didn't push at all. I wanted to do it. She just gave me a bunch of tips, and helped reassure me that I could do it in the first place. I wanted to do it, not just because you’ve, uh, tasted me already, but because it felt strange to have given you my virginity before doing that. It felt out of order.”

I winced at how my words affected her. "Sorry, I thought that's what happened, but I wanted to make sure. I don't want you to feel like you have to —"

"I'm going to cut you off right there. Beth might have issues with that line of thinking, but I don't. I don't think I have to do things for you; I need to do them for you, for myself. I know that you're not pressuring me, and neither is she. I am. I want to be the girl I was this morning for you."

"Okay, but —"

"Enough, J. This isn't one of your two bombshells, so we need to go get in the bath and talk for real. I will tell you if I have a problem. I promise."

Suitably chastised, I licked my lips in defeat and nodded. When I raised my arm to allow Sam up, gesturing towards the door, she made a show of pouting and sitting still, so I picked her up and carried her naked form to the bathroom where Beth was waiting for us. I internally winced at the steam rising from the tub, almost regretting my decision to have Beth start it, before realizing I had a perfect solution: shifting my skin from the waist down to be coated in my scales. Protected from the heat, I climbed directly into the tub, still holding Sam in my arms, settling on the bench as she clung to me, her head resting on my shoulder. Beth followed us into the tub, wrapping her petite leg over my thigh to straddle my leg, pinning Sam to me. Sam sighed gleefully when Beth added her arm underneath mine, sharing in holding the redhead.

"So," the diminutive woman started, "You have two things you need to talk to us about?"

"The first is minor for you, probably similar for Sam, and fairly impactful for Ev. I need to talk to her about the consequences later, but she already knows. You're both legally dragons now, in the eyes of the powers that be."

Sam nodded into my neck and, without opening her eyes, said, "Makes sense, given the craziness about your magic changing us."

Beth looked at me in confusion, asking, "But what does that actually mean, though?"

Thankfully, Sam answered because I didn't really know. "He's our political representative now and the protector of our rights against encroachment from other magical beings. Which he already was. So nothing changes, except there's a wizard out there annoyed to not have influence over James through us."

Beth snarled at the idea of someone else using her to get to me. I confirmed Sam's speculation, "He made a big stink at the meeting about how he deserved to interview and evaluate you to ensure I wasn't exploiting two helpless witches. The words he used were more polite than that, but his tone was more aggressive. I told him he could inquire with you directly, so expect messages or something soon."

Beth and Sam simultaneously groaned and then giggled at their synchronicity. "I'm sorry. I wasn't sure how else to handle being put on the spot like that. Aisling was laying into him, and he wouldn't take 'No.'"

Beth's face illuminated rapidly as an idea filled her head, and then she sultrily asked, "If you're our representative now, does that mean I can seduce you for political favors?"

While I blushed, Sam exhaled sharply before saying, "I think you already did, harlot, and you roped me into it, too." She added quietly, "Not that I'm complaining."

"So, if the two of us are now dragons because of your strange magic powers, why's Ev?" Beth astutely asked.

"This is not to leave this room or to be repeated again, understood? I don't agree with it, and I won't stand for anyone else saying it. Not that I think you will, but I don't want you to think these opinions are mine."

Beth nodded, now staring at me gravely, while Sam said, "Of course, James."

"I talked to the ghoul lord who was the head of the Vampire house at the dinner meeting last night. He was pleasant to interact with on the surface and fairly easy to talk to, considering my other company was Antonin. But he had given Ev to Aisling years ago, hoping she would take to law work like a moth to flame. She didn't. Now, Aisling has passed Ev to me because she doesn't know what to do with her. She's being pushed onto me because no one else sees her as having value. They see her as damaged. Irreparably broken. Unfit for purpose. They just don't want her." Surprisingly to me, neither woman reacted strongly, and through our bonds, I understood why.

Beth didn't just empathize with Ev's position of being an unwanted tool that outlived their usefulness; she sympathized with her. She was intimately familiar with being objectified and otherwise undesired. That was a space where Beth had lived for several years. Sam didn't have the same emotional understanding of what I had said, but she had expected my answer. She had spent years working as an aide and junior handler for the regional courts — this sort of dehumanization and cynical asset evaluation was something she didn't just see occasionally, rather, she was very much expecting it.

Sam asked, "And what do you think, J?"

"I think she's been incredibly valuable to us, even as just a second opinion, and offering her services as my personal, professional assistant is invaluable. I wouldn't have known to go to Marjorie's to get suits for the court session, and now I've worn it twice. But that's beside the point — at the end of the day, she's a person. I don't know exactly how she's been hurt, but she deserves a place where she can feel safe and pursue her happiness, unburdened by the constant scrutiny of a freshly assigned authority figure. Being passed off like a regifted paperweight is not how I want the world to treat anyone."

Sam nodded in sage agreement, Beth smiled gently, and the redhead in my lap said, "Alright, so you should wrap up with us so you can hash things out with her. If that was the lighter topic, what's the next one?"

"When I met with Zoey yesterday, she was painfully apologetic over her behavior. I think the next time she sees you, she'll apologize for the interrogation you endured. She explained her behaviors, her thought process, and what was happening to make her act like she did, which I accepted."

Beth looked confused, "That's nice and all, but what's the heavy part?"

"How do you two know this is the more intense topic?"

They answered simultaneously, "You started with the other one."

"Okay, well, it's kind of layered. It doesn't sound that bad, and then my mind kept adding to it, and I kinda broke down on her in the staff room. I had a panic attack or something that certainly felt like one."

Sam opened her eyes for the first time since I carried her into the tub, and Beth inhaled before asking, "Why didn't I feel anything?"

"I think I just shut down entirely. I don't really remember anything that happened while I was in my head. But, the first domino is that Zoey wants, well, desperately wants children."

Beth didn't react, but Sam visibly winced, relaxed, and then winced again, this time exclaiming, "Wait, but, Antonin suggested she was getting old?"

I nodded, "Exactly. That was where my head went next. Her biological clock isn't just ticking; it's a thumping concert bass speaker, and she needs to do the deed last year to have any hope of seeing her kids graduate high school."

Beth squirmed in my lap, looking thoughtful, and added, "So we'd be raising surrogate teenage half-sons-and-daughters in her memory? Yeah, that's kind of dark."

Sam, however, was watching my face intently, "No, that's not it."

A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

I shook my head. "No, that was just the second step. The third was that I'm immortal, unaging, magically preserved for eternity. And my children, unless they're also dragons, won't be. Thinking of burying them, looking like a twenty-year-old kid at the funeral of my elderly children, was pretty awful as well, but it wasn't the final card. That was —"

Sam blurted it out, "Us. You won't have this emotional bond with your children, probably, based on my inclusion. But you do with us. And after fifty years of hearing our thoughts every day, literally experiencing the world through our eyes, when we pass, it won't even be like having your soulmate pass. It will be that your soulmate passed, and a huge part of you died as well. Oh god, J, I'm... Fuck, that's so awful to think about."

Beth shared her feelings without saying anything, a hauntingly defeated expression on her face.

"Sorry, I wasn't sure if I should've shared that, but I figured you deserved to know it. I was really just trying to get your thoughts about Zoey and her predicament."

Neither woman spoke immediately, both still struggling to move past my previous thoughts to decide their opinion on Zoey. So we sat in the heated water, soaking in the bath and the silence. Beth stirred the water absentmindedly with her free hand as the thoughts stirred in her mind, no clear answers coming to either of them.

After several minutes of thought, Sam broke the reprieve. "I think you have to do it."

"Have to? That's a strong response." Not that I expected anything less of Sam.

"If you say no now, there is no alternative. You'd be making the decision for her. If this is something she really wants, I think the three of us have to work to accommodate her unless one of you has a real concrete reason for rejecting her. And, make no mistake, it would absolutely be a rejection of her, not just the idea, if you say no."

"That's the thing, I wasn't completely convinced that she wanted children. My read was that she thought she might want children and that if she waited any longer, the possibility would be gone, and it would be something she would regret for the rest of her life just because. Beth, do you have any thoughts?"

"I don't know. I hadn't thought about kids before this week in my entire life. And I certainly didn't think about raising them with our tribe, rather than just the two of us. I'm not against it. Actually, I think I could be on board, if Zoey apologizes to us and stops fucking us around."

"That's basically what I told her when I had calmed down. That I wasn't against the idea, but I needed to get to know her first. Sam?"

"It sounds like Team Girlfriend is getting a breeding bitch." Sam winced as the words came out of her mouth. "That was too harsh, wasn't it? I just — She's a wolf and wants offspring. I didn't, oh, hmmph."

Beth and I took it as she intended, a light-hearted comment infused with some of the insanity of the situation. I wouldn't repeat it, but it wasn't exactly wrong.

The three of us lingered in the water for another hour. I thoroughly enjoyed having time to solely sit, not having a pressing engagement to rush to or having Antonin instruct me on something so crazy I couldn't even imagine it being real. Sitting, holding Sam and Beth, and talking idly about absolute nothingness was incredibly rejuvenating.

Of course, eventually, we got up and out and dried off, the girls falling into cotton pajamas while I slipped on a pair of shorts. They must have gotten up early to plan to wake me up because even after our lounging in the tub, it was only around 9:30. I still had lots of time to prepare myself to talk to Ev about her future.

Or, I thought I did, anyway. She was conspicuously absent from the dining room when the three of us finally left my bedroom. Cynthia was there, preparing ingredients to make cinnamon raisin French toast with Beth. She smiled warmly at the girls when we entered, but when she looked at me, she gave me her best Aisling impression as the warmth drained from her features, giving me a stern expression that offered no sympathy. She coldly asserted, "We're talking after this. Sit."

Her antipathy towards me wasn't directed at anyone else, but unless she had completely flip-flopped her opinion on Sam getting involved in the space of two days, I couldn't deduce what I had done. It didn't help that she was one of the only people I couldn't smell, making conversations with her always starting from the back foot. It really made me appreciate how much sensing emotions helped me navigate other interactions and how directly sharing experiences with Beth and now Sam deepened our relationship.

The motherly redheaded matron pleasantly worked with Beth to make breakfast, sharing her experience and knowledge benevolently. Cynthia seemed to genuinely appreciate the opportunity to fulfill maternal duties for someone, even if they were more like step-mother-in-law duties technically. Beth certainly enjoyed having someone else who cared, investing time in teaching her things because they felt she was worth attention. It was good for all of us that Sam didn't resent Beth for growing closer with her mother — she regretfully acknowledged driving a wedge between herself and Cynthia but was happy her Mom had the opportunity to do the motherly things Sam had never wanted. The benefits for everyone else were plainly apparent.

In the end, breakfast was served, the four of us ate, everyone complimented Beth, and she beamed while trying to redirect the praise to Cynthia. Cynthia shooed the other two away when Sam offered to clean up, asserting that she and I would do it. When they had left the common area of the apartment, and the door to my bedroom had clicked shut, Cynthia turned to me with her authoritative expression and started speaking. My dragon quaked under her visage in a way that Aisling’s affectation would never equal.

"What were you thinking, James? What could possibly compel you to do such an oafish thing?"

"Unless you're upset about Beth and I incorporating Sam into our lives, which I thought we had your blessing to do, you're going to have to explain what the issue is."

She handed me the egg-and-flour-covered plate some of the prep work had been done on to rinse while explaining, "No, my daughter is getting more than she dreamed was possible by being tangled up in your trainwreck of circumstances, and I think she's happy for the first time in years. I wouldn't dare try to take that from her. What I'm asking you about is why you demanded Ev stay up all night researching contract law in Pennsylvania? Is there something happening today that I haven't been informed of? Why did she need to do that last night? Have you agreed to something with someone?"

"Umm." I was so blindsided by the question that the dim utterance was all I was capable of.

"I hope you have a good explanation for this," she said archly.

I sighed, "I have an explanation, but it's not a good one."

"Get on with it, then. I'll decide if it's good."

I paused for a few moments, trying to figure out how to start, and then realized I had been scrubbing the already rinsed plate with a washcloth for much longer than necessary. Setting it to the side and moving on to the next, I explained what I thought had happened.

"Okay, so, first things first, I didn't ask her to do it last night. I didn't really even ask her to do it. But... You know she was legally transferred to the House of Dragons, right?" Cynthia nodded, watching me intently as I continued. "She was waiting at the door when I got home from the meeting, which is where I was told the three of them were being officially placed under my care. Not that it's an issue, but a heads-up before it was official would've been nice. Anyway, she was insistent that our positions had changed and was acting uncomfortably deferential, and I just wanted to go to bed. I told her we'd talk today, and she asked what she should do until then. I wondered if she had a contract for us; she didn't think she needed one anymore, and I told her we absolutely did.

"I'm assuming I misunderstood something about her shift in behavior if she stayed up all night to work on it. That's not what I intended, but she also didn't react positively when I suggested just waiting. It was like she had to have a task to complete, so I came up with something on the spot, but I really wanted to discuss things with her today before she got to work on it."

The frustration Cynthia had been exuding faded as I explained what I had done. "You didn't encourage her to stay up all night working on it?" she asked.

"C'mon, Cynthia. I know Sam paints a picture of a highly idealized version of me, and I'm not the saint she thinks I am, but has anything I've done suggested I would do that? I'm occasionally oblivious and ignorant of this entire world, but I'm not intentionally exploitative. Why would I release the previous contract holding Ev to my control only to suddenly start using its control?"

"I didn't think so, but when I asked why she was still awake and poring over documents at three in the morning when I went to the bathroom, she said it was a task you had asked her to complete."

"Yikes."

"So, naturally, I wanted to know why you had that poor woman working through the night. A communication issue is something I can understand, although you should always be cognizant of what you're saying to her. She doesn't view you as an employer but rather as a feudal lord who owns her. Be careful with your words; You have to say precisely what you mean. I know your intentions are benevolent, but as you can see, that alone isn’t enough."

I nodded, "The road to hell and all that. I understand, and I will try to clean up all of my messes. I actually really appreciate you checking in on me like this. Keeping me accountable is something no one else seems comfortable doing."

Cynthia smiled, and for a split second, she looked identical to Sam, causing my confused heart to flutter, before she spoke and the illusion shattered. "Of course, James. Someone has to look out for my daughter and soon-to-be daughter-in-law. Otherwise, I think they might just jump headfirst into the first trouble that came along."

Even though I knew she was teasing me, I felt compelled to respond, "You know I'm looking out for them, too, right?"

Her smile grew even more prominent as if I had fallen directly into her trap, and she tutted back, "James, you are precisely the trouble they jumped headfirst into."

With a self-satisfied smile on her face, Cynthia left the kitchen, leaving me to put the dishes on the drying rack. Which gave me a few minutes to consider how I wanted to approach Ev. My impulse was to start with an apology, but after some consideration, I decided against it. I didn't think she would understand what the apology was for — She didn't seem to believe what she had interpreted my offhanded remarks to mean was wrong in any way. She thought she was just doing her job and that nothing was out of the ordinary.

When I knocked on her bedroom door, I was surprised to see how different it was from mine despite being furnished with the same initial furniture. She had the same closet, bed, and desk, but there were no indications that they had been used. It looked like a stock photo of an example room the apartment complex would post online, showing the bedroom layout without any personal touches. The only noticeable difference between hers and mine was the presence of double-layered blackout curtains, drawn and covering the window entirely. All of the natural light was blocked, and the ceiling fixture was illuminating the room instead.

On the desk, instead of the laptop Beth, Sam, and I had been provided, she had a full desktop tower. Three monitors were arranged in front of her: two landscape-oriented ones stacked vertically on her right and a portrait-oriented one on the left. On the vertical monitor, she was rapidly reading through a document of some kind, making an occasional note of something important. A text editor was open on one of the horizontal monitors, with a formatted half-finished paper visible.

"Hey, Ev? Can I talk to you now?"

She turned to look at me before wincing and forcibly blinking her eyes several times, adjusting to looking away from her screens for the first time in too long. Once she had adjusted to see who was talking to her, she bowed her head and answered, "Of course, James. Please, come in."

As I crossed the room to sit at the second chair she pulled out for me, the vampire began apologizing, "I'm sorry to report that I'm not yet finished with the contract, James. I didn't know that you wanted to talk in the morning."

"That's perfectly fine. It's only one of the things I wanted to talk to you about. I first wanted to cover how you felt about being placed in the House of Dragons. Is that something you actually wanted? Is there anything I need to do for you now?"

She shook her head skittishly, "Oh, no, of course not, James. I mean, yes, it's something I wanted because it will make things easier. And, no, I wouldn't dare impose on you anything like that."

I narrowed my eyes, certain to have found a thread I could tug on, hoping to understand Ev by drawing it out. "What do you mean, 'impose'?"

"You're the head of the household, the leader of all dragons in the region, even if all others are honorary. It's not my place to ask for things from you, but to provide my labor to your House."

"Ev, isn't a representative supposed to represent their constituencies' interests? Shouldn't I be advocating for your growth and well-being?"

She shook her head, "You're not just a representative, though. You're the head. You haven't indicated a preference for a specific title, but 'King,' 'Lord,' 'Master,' and 'Arch Wyrm the Magnificent and Grand' have all been used in the past by your peers. Your job is to settle disputes between your subjects and outsiders and to ensure your subjects have places to provide value for you and that their talents aren't needlessly wasted. You've been more than fair with me, and it wouldn't be right to ask for more."

That mentality sounded either significantly foreign or remarkably antiquated to me, so I had to ask, even if it was blunt. It didn’t seem like Evgenia would mind, not that I should use that as a reliable barometer. "Ev, when were you born?"

Which was a mistake, because her eyes flashed in horror. Confusingly, the scent she exuded was more embarrassment and guilt than fear, but her eyes looked scared. She answered, "I don't know, James."

"You don't know?"

"It was after Nikolai took the crown but before the Great War. The First Great War. A week or so after the winter solstice. But, the exact day and year weren't important to my family when I was one of many who might or might not make adulthood, and then..." She trailed off, looking haunted, frozen in her thoughts.

"Nikolai?"

"Romanov," she muttered, still detached from my question and lost in her memories.

"You were born when Russia still had an Emperor?"

"Yes, but I don't remember the specifics, and I doubt my mother ever had papers made. Or maybe they were lost in the chaos of the war or the revolution, I don't know."

"That actually explains some things for me. So, you don't have any issues resulting from being put in my House?"

"No, of course not. Being aligned with you makes things simpler for me."

"Okay. I can see that, as well. Can you show me what your thoughts were on our contract?"

"Of course. I'm not done, but it makes sense for your input to come early in the writing so your will can be echoed in all of the clauses."

I really should have spent more time with Ev earlier. I hadn't realized just how far apart our realities were. That thought was the only one that rang through my head as I read the document Ev had begun drafting. She watched me anxiously, waiting for either rejection or acceptance.

Insofar as I could understand the dense verbiage, the contract was split into several parts. The first defined Ev's relationship with me in a way that made my skin crawl, treating her somewhere in between a piece of property or a minor who required guardianship in exchange for my care of her. The second section gave suggestions about what labor she would provide to fulfill her end but left it open-ended, placed no hard limits on me, and didn't outline any way she had control over what I asked. The third section outlined her requests for me, although they were far from balanced.

The most surprising line was one in which she requested to continue joining us at dinner unless circumstances reasonably demanded otherwise. In the headspace I was reading this in, I noticed that she wasn't actually asking to be served food, just to join us at the table, which was odd. My perception had been that she appreciated the gesture of eating at our table but struggled with the other women's conversation at times while definitely being unsure of how to act around me.

All in all, this was very far from what I was hoping to see. I looked at Ev to try and fix this, and she flinched when I brushed my face.

"You're not happy," she concluded.

I ignored her remark to ask a question of my own, "Ev, have you been working through the night?"

She shivered and shrunk from me, "Only last night." She opened her mouth to continue before stopping and biting her lip.

"Why does that make you fearful of me?"

"I wasn't working for you all of the other nights."

So, she thought she was due to be reprimanded for being unproductive while I was simply trying to understand the alien in a human form sitting next to me. "Why do you think that would upset me?"

She looked at me in confusion, "Why else am I here if not to work for you?"

"I didn't ask you to work through the nights, and there wasn't anything under such a deadline to demand it. Why would I be bothered that you weren't working when there wasn't clearly defined work to do?"

She repeated a line to me so mechanically that I knew someone else had ingrained it into her, "I'm a vampire. I don't sleep, I don't need to eat, and my body doesn't tire. I exist to work."

"Christ, Ev, that's such a bleak outlook. I mean, fuck, that’s just, I don’t even know what to say to that. I think I understand the issues we're having now, at least at a surface level, but I don’t know where to go from here."

"I'm sorry if I've caused any offense."

"You have, but not in the way you think you have. Every time I walked into a room, it seemed as if you were either fine or walking on eggshells to avoid my attention. Only now am I realizing that I didn't do anything specific. You were uncomfortable because you didn't have anything to do for me. I hadn’t given you something to do, so you were trying to look occupied so you wouldn’t be admonished for not doing anything." I paused and sighed as the understanding recolored all of our previous interactions.

"Sir?" She squeaked out.

"No, none of that. James. My name is James. Just James. And we need to scrap the contract you've written. For now, unless I request otherwise, only work on my tasks between, let's say, ten in the morning to four in the afternoon, and only if I actually have something I need done. Outside of those hours, you can do what you want to. In fact, for this next week, I want you to not work on anything relating to me outside of those hours. I feel I have to say that, or you'll continue shuffling my paperwork around 24/7. Understood?" She nodded, so I asked, "Can you repeat it back to me in your own words?"

"I'm only to work for you between ten and four and not to labor outside those hours." She looked forlorn as she roughly confirmed my instructions.

"Why are you upset now?"

"Are you getting rid of me? Do you want me to find another master to work for outside of your hours?"

"No, neither of those, although I can see how you came to that conclusion. I..." I paused to think, attempting to find a way to order Ev to relax so that she would see it as a task to complete for her boss. Her master. This conversation had not gone how I expected it to, and I wouldn't unpack all Evgenia's hang-ups before it ended. "I want you to spend the rest of the hours determining what would make you happy. What does Ev enjoy? What are Ev's favorite things? That's perfect — I would like you to spend the remaining hours constructing a list of ten things you enjoy. People, places, activities, foods, anything, as long as you have ten of them by next Sunday, and none of them are related to performing tasks for your boss. Okay?"

She frowned when I added that they couldn't relate to work, significantly increasing the challenge, but nodded.

I continued, "I also want you to come up with something that you couldn't get easily that you want. I am apparently a big shot in this town now, so I'm not sure there's anything I couldn't get, but we'll cross that bridge if it comes up. So, do you understand what I'm asking for?"

"Yes, James. A list of ten things I enjoy and something I want but couldn't have. In a week."

"Do you think you can do it?"

She hesitated, "I'm not sure. Ten could be challenging."

Which was fine with me. I didn't even care if she came back with zero things. Telling her that I was only giving her the assignment to act like a human for a week to get her to think of herself as a person with value outside of her work would probably be counterproductive right now.

But I could tell her something along those lines. "That's perfectly fine, Ev. The process is more important than the results here. I want you to try for ten, but don't stress if you don't get there, alright?"

"Okay. What do I do with this?" She pointed at the screen with the overbearing contract.

"Throw it out. If you have nothing else to do this week, and have time between trying other things for yourself, find a generic contract for a personal assistant for a human mid-level regional executive at a Fortune 500 company. We can work from there to something that will fit us. Add in a recurring two-month review period. That's all that I know off the top of my head for now. We'll meet like this next week, just the two of us, and discuss how things are going. Okay?"

"Okay, James. Thank you."

I smiled at her, "No, Ev, thank you. It's easy to see that I'm not like anyone else you've worked with, and I appreciate your patience in coming to understand me. Please feel like you can talk to me about any concerns you have."

She nodded, more in acknowledgment that I was done speaking than in understanding or agreement with my meaning. With our discussion concluded, I withdrew from her room, slunk back to mine, and collapsed on the bed. In the periphery of my senses, I could hear Sam talking about going to high school with me, pulling up FaeBook pages of some of the people we knew and FaceBook profiles of others. I almost wanted to insert myself into the conversation and offer my thoughts on the people we had grown up with, but I was too drained to have an opinion on the majority of them. The talk this morning had gone well, but it was still an emotional challenge, and the discussion with Ev had only suggested further complications were upcoming.

Listening to Sam talk about our teenage years did give me an idea for the date I still hadn't asked her to. I had half a plan for what I wanted to do with Beth, although I needed to talk to Zoey or Ev to see if such a place existed, but only now was I reminded of something I could use with Sam. I didn't want to do anything in the magical world with her — she had been unequivocal that she had wanted out. I hoped it was early enough in the Fall that the places would still be open. At home, they would start closing soon, as if people didn't want their products during the winter. Or maybe I was a weirdo who wore shorts in the winter. Hard to call that one.

Eventually, Sam wrapped up by explaining the context of who Zoey was and how Kyle fit into our friend group. Beth asked the obvious question from someone unfamiliar with the Lyon family, "Isn't it going to be weird that you're star-crossed lovers with his younger sister?"

Sam guffawed, covering her mouth with a fist and forcing her laughter into a cough to hide her reaction to the absurdity of the question. Beth stared at her in confusion, then turned to me for an explanation, forcing me to participate in their conversation.

"He's probably elated. Kyle doesn't really have that ego-driven male need to prove his masculinity in the slightest, which makes him a great friend. But, he never lived under the false delusion that his little sister would forever be a pure little angel. Knowing what I know now, he probably got over that right quick when she turned 14 and started killing people for Aisling. Or whatever she did that she doesn’t want to talk about.

"The reality of the situation is that there were only ever three outcomes for her as a were. The most likely was that she ended up with someone he didn't know and wouldn't ever really know. The next most likely was that Luna spurned her, and she spent her entire life without a mate. Once you get over the macho performative protection act, what choice would you make?"

Sam answered the rhetorical question for me, "That being with someone I trusted, that I knew would treat her with the respect she deserves and try his hardest to give her what she wanted, could only ever be a good thing."

Beth shrugged, "I don't get it. When you break it down, I can understand each stage, but when I step back to look at it all, I can't get past the part where you're effectively married to his sister after one meeting years after the last time you saw her. And neither of you get a choice in the matter; you just have to make it work."

Sam asked, "Beth, how's that different from you?"

Her bright green eyes opened wide for a moment, and then said, "But I'm not a badass Amazon total babe with a family looking out for me."

I laughed, "Okay, admittedly, Amazon you will never be. That's the only part I'm content with you discrediting yourself against. The comparison isn't meant to make you feel bad. Zoey knew that outcome was how she would find a husband for her entire life. You and I were tossed together by fate, completely ignorant of the world around us. She's way more prepared for this than we were, and we're making it work really well, right?"

My auburn-haired pixie managed to relax, "Alright, James. I see what you mean."

The rest of the night was quiet. Beth and Cynthia made fried rice and vegetable spring rolls for dinner, highlighted by an excellent sweet chili sauce. Evgenia joined us for dinner, had a small portion of rice and sauce, then departed quietly. I smiled at the development while Cynthia refused to pass the fried dough she made during the afternoon until I had explained myself to her. When I did, she passed me two pieces, accepting my decision and approving my desire to frame my goals as a task to complete.

Sam, Beth, and I spent time relaxing in the apartment. I half-heartedly suggested taking a walk to a local park, just for a change of scenery, but none of us felt inclined to leave. Snuggling on the couch and absentmindedly giving the two women foot massages while they talked about my insane life was refreshing. Surprisingly so; simply doing nothing and holding them in my hands, I could feel myself regenerating. I was less tired now than I had been after dealing with Evgenia. Something to keep an eye on and perhaps bring up to Antonin in the future if I could recreate it.

I didn't participate much in the frivolous talk but had to laugh when Sam suggested we get a dog bed for the bedroom. Neither of the two in my arms were particularly inclined to give up sleeping in my embrace, finding comfort in the contact. Beth asked if we would need a vet appointment or doggie shampoo for Zoey. It was phrased in just a naive enough manner I almost scolded her, but she broke down into giggles quick enough that I understood it for the inane chatter it was.

After climbing into bed for the night, turning the lights off, and snuggling together, I sighed deeply.

"Both of you have said it to me already, but freaking out on Zoey yesterday solidified the feeling for me. I really appreciate how supportive the two of you have been. Even when upset and bordering on erupting, Beth, you were able to reconcile with us and explain why you were feeling that way. I know that we've only known each other for real for a week, but I can confidently say that the two of you are the best things that have happened so far in my life. Sam, Beth, I love you."

Beth smiled like that cat who got the cream. She didn't say anything, just snuggled deeper into my arms and released a contented purr. Her concerns over being tossed aside had long since been removed. Being further connected to me than Sam was and having a greater understanding of my emotions as a result, she likely knew my feelings on the matter before I had convinced myself to say them. She was content, exactly where she wanted to be, safe and secure for the first time in her life.

Sam burst into tears. Happy tears, I was glad to feel, but still. In contrast to her normal appearance, but in alignment with her unfiltered moans, she was an ugly crier. A horrible flood of unrestrained emotion crashed down her face. It wasn't just that I had said I was returning her feelings; I had understood and accepted why she had acted how she had in the past and moved past my issues there. Saying it highlighted that she could feel how I felt about her, the truth of my words surrounding her in acceptance and gratitude.

Beth slid from her position between us, moving over Sam and pushing the redhead into my arms. Sam was in no position to resist, and before she could realize what was happening, she was the meat in the middle of a Beth and James sandwich. She wrapped her arms around my neck, crying into the pillow underneath me. I could understand just how relieved she was, even without reaching out and feeling how unburdened she felt now. It was how I would've felt years ago if she had stopped sending me positive signals but saying 'no' and simply said 'yes.' The sudden clarity released years of self-doubt and insecurity in a flood.

I held Sam. Beth held Sam. Sam clung to me and cried until she was out of tears, at which point she tried to apologize.

"I'm sorry. It's just, I thought you might get here, eventually. But I wasn't sure. I didn't know if you could get over the stuff in the past. Feeling it from you is more than just hearing it; it's knowing it."

"I know, Sam. I know what you mean."

"I'm sorry about everything, James. I'm sorry I didn't tell you, I'm sorry I kept pushing you away after bringing you in, I'm sorry for being pissy this week, I'm—"

I kissed her. She stopped babbling about things I was no longer upset about. Beth brushed her hair from her face and asked, "Sam, weren't we here Friday night with you telling me I didn't have to be the girl I had been? Weren't you the one saying you wanted to be the best for him because of how much he's given us? Feel him. Feel how much he loves you and stop worrying about the past."

Sam giggled, a gross snot bubble barking laugh, her face still damp with tears. "I guess it is easier to say than do."

Beth got a warm washcloth and some tissues and took her time meticulously washing Sam's face. She felt I wanted to do it but was conflicted over leaving Sam's arms, so she did it for me. For us. By the time she returned to bed, Sam had fallen asleep, no longer encumbered with the headsman's axe in the form of my approval hanging over her head. Beth smiled softly and slid in behind Sam, her slender arms wrapping around Sam's stomach as the two of us held her through her dreams.