I stared out the window as Marco navigated morning traffic, watching Century City blur past in glass and steel. My body humd with residual energy from Laurana’s Essentia, still cycling warm beneath my skin. The pathways I’d kissed glowed in my mory like afterimages burned into my retinas.
My phone buzzed again.
Cheon: ETA?
Ro: twenty minutes
Cheon: I made breakfast
ra: she made a SPREADSHEET about breakfast
ra: theres literally color coding
Cheon: organization is not a character flaw
Ro: it’s absolutely a character flaw
Cheon: you’re both insufferable
ra: but u love us anyway
I watched the three dots appear and disappear twice before Cheon’s response ca through.
Cheon: unfortunately
The corner of my mouth twitched. Yeah. Unfortunately.
Marco pulled up to my building and the security guard nodded like he hadn’t seen leave twenty-four hours ago and return with a different woman entirely. Professional discretion was worth every penny of whatever my father paid him.
The elevator ride up felt longer than usual. My reflection in the mirrored walls showed exactly what I’d beco over the past week. White hair deliberately ssy instead of styled. Mismatched eyes that looked tired but satisfied. Scorch marks on my shirt from yesterday’s fire usage. Bite marks visible above my collar from soone who definitely wasn’t Laurana.
I looked like a walking scandal.
The quest tir in my peripheral vision showed six hundred ninety-one days remaining. Less than two weeks into this transmigrated nightmare and I’d already claid five heroines, absorbed six different abilities, defeated the actual protagonist in front of half the academy, and spent last night getting my back scratched by a retired four-star hero who wanted to study my Essentia through repeated application of scientific thod.
My old life felt like it belonged to soone else.
The elevator doors opened directly into my penthouse and I found both of them waiting. ra sprawled on the couch in one of my shirts and nothing else, tail swishing lazily while she scrolled through her phone. Cheon stood in the kitchen wearing proper pajamas and an apron, her light blue hair pulled back in a loose ponytail I’d never seen her wear to school.
Dostic. That’s what this looked like.
ra glanced up first. "He lives."
"Barely," I said, dropping my keys on the counter.
Cheon turned from the stove and her eyes went imdiately to my neck. "You have new marks."
"Occupational hazard."
"She bit you." Cheon’s voice went flat. "Multiple tis."
"Technically those are from you." I gestured at the ones above my collar. "Laurana’s are lower."
ra laughed, bright and genuine. "Show us."
"Absolutely not."
"We signed a contract," ra reminded . "Full disclosure of intimate activities with other parties."
"The contract says I tell you it happened. Doesn’t say I have to provide photographic evidence."
Cheon turned off the stove and walked over, crossing her arms in a way that pushed her breasts up slightly. The apron did interesting things to her figure. My brain catalogued this detail for later.
"Did you sleep with her?" Direct. No performance. Just Cheon being Cheon.
"Yes."
"More than once?"
"Four tis total. Three last night, one this morning."
ra whistled. "Ambitious."
"She wanted data." I pulled out a chair and sat because my ankle was starting to complain again despite Laurana’s excellent healing properties. "Multiple trials for baseline establishnt."
"Of course she did." Cheon’s jaw worked like she was chewing through calculations. "Did she find out about the drain?"
"I told her."
Silence hit the kitchen like a physical weight.
Cheon recovered first. "You told a professor about your unregistered SS-rank ability?"
"She already knew. Had pegged from day one." I reached for the coffee Cheon had brewing, needing caffeine imdiately. "Figured honesty was safer than letting her investigate independently."
"That’s insane," Cheon said.
"That’s brilliant," ra countered. She sat up properly, her tail curling around the couch cushion. "If she’s studying you privately, she can’t report you publicly without admitting how she got the data."
"Exactly."
Cheon’s mouth opened, then closed. Her color-coded brain was probably reorganizing everything into new threat categories. "This is blackmail."
"This is mutual benefit." I took a long drink of the coffee. Perfect temperature, exactly how I liked it. Cheon had my preferences morized after three days. "She gets her research. I get soone who understands what I am and won’t try to lock in a testing facility."
"And you get sex," ra added helpfully.
"The sex is a bonus."
"A bonus you collected four tis."
"She’s very thorough."
Cheon made a noise sowhere between frustration and resignation. She turned back to the stove and started plating food with sharp, aggressive movents. Eggs. Bacon. Toast cut into perfect triangles. She slid a plate in front of hard enough that it scraped against the counter.
"Eat."
I ate.
ra wandered over and stole a piece of bacon off my plate, grinning when I swatted at her hand. "So what’s she like?"
"Smart. Dangerous. Bored with everything until she’s not."
"We talking personality or—"
"Both."
Cheon’s fork clattered against her plate. "Can we not discuss your professor’s sexual performance over breakfast?"
"You asked for full disclosure," I reminded her.
"I asked if it happened. Not for a review."
"She wants details," ra said, leaning against the counter beside . Her yellow eyes glead with amusent. "Panda likes knowing exactly what happened even when she pretends she doesn’t."
"I do not."
"You absolutely do." ra’s tail wrapped around my bicep, warm and possessive. "You probably made a spreadsheet categorizing all his hookups by compatibility rating."
Cheon’s face went pink. "That would be insane."
"But did you?"
"No."
ra and I looked at each other. The silence stretched.
"Maybe a rough draft," Cheon admitted quietly.
I choked on my coffee. ra’s laugh filled the kitchen, loud and delighted.
"I knew it," ra crowed. "What’s the professor’s rating?"
"I’m not sharing that."
"Ten," I said.
Cheon glared at . "How would you even know—"
"Because you’re you." I reached over and tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "And you can’t help yourself."
She leaned into the touch before catching herself. Her Essentia pulsed through our connection, honey and lightning mixing with the coffee on my tongue. When she pulled away, her cheeks stayed pink.
"Finish eating," she said. "You have a eting with Noel at four."
Right. That.
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