Mary tilted her head, her soft pink lips curling into a teasing smile as she looked past Yarrow at the two striking women standing behind him. "Oh? And who are these two?"
Yarrow scratched the back of his neck, suddenly feeling like a deer caught in torchlight. "They're my companions in the adventure group," he answered quickly, but his voice held a guilty edge.
Serena folded her arms beneath her chest, accentuating her curves as she shot him a sidelong glance. "Companions? Is that all we are now?" she murmured, her tone laced with playful jealousy. Her lips pursed, cheeks puffing out in mock irritation.
Zen yawned, stretching with an almost feline grace. "Hmph. Call it what you want," she said, her golden eyes gleaming with amusement.
Mary giggled and nudged Yarrow with her elbow, her touch lingering just a moment too long. "You're really lucky to have such beautiful women by your side. I bet they keep you... entertained."
Yarrow let out a nervous chuckle, his thoughts going to the many intimate, tension-filled moments he'd shared with both women during their journey. His mind raced with memories of Serena pressed up against him in a cramped tent, of Zen's heated gaze as she teased him relentlessly.
At that moment, a hulking figure emerged from the stable—a man nearly two meters tall, his broad chest bare beneath an open vest. He swung a heavy wooden club over his shoulder as he walked past them.
"Neji! Where are you off to?" Yarrow called, seizing the momentary distraction.
The farmhand grunted. "Those damn kangaroos in the forest challenged me again. Lost last time, but today, I'm taking them down."
Mary sighed. "Honestly, Neji, you pick the strangest battles."
Yarrow smirked, then turned back to Mary. She was watching him closely, a playful glint in her eye. "Well, Yarrow," she purred, twirling a lock of hair around her finger, "if you're ever craving something warm and familiar, you know where to find me. It's been far too long since we had a barbecue together… among other things."
His throat went dry. "I-I'll keep that in mind," he managed, feeling the weight of Serena's and Zen's gazes burning into him.
As they walked away from the farm, Serena kept silent for a long moment before finally speaking. "So, who was that?"
"Mary ," Yarrow answered, exhaling slowly. "She's the daughter of the ranch owner. I used to work there when I first arrived in this world."
Serena arched a delicate brow. "Sounds like you're pretty fond of her."
He coughed. "It's not like that! She saved my life. Back when I had nothing, she took me in, gave me food, shelter… she's like a sister to me."
"Oh? A sister?" Serena mused, her lips curving into a wicked smirk. "Yet, when she touched you just now, you practically melted."
Yarrow opened his mouth to protest, but Zen cut in, her voice laced with amusement. "Hmph. His scent changed."
His face turned red. "W-What?"
Zen stepped closer, inhaling deeply as she leaned in, her lips brushing against his ear. "Excited, are we?"
Serena giggled. "So much for just gratitude."
Yarrow groaned. "Can we just get to the city already?"
Alexsted was a bustling metropolis, filled with creatures from all walks of life. As they entered the city, Yarrow led them straight to a clothing store.
The moment they stepped inside, the clerk—a young woman with mischievous eyes—greeted them with a knowing smile. "How can I help you today?"
Yarrow cleared his throat and gestured toward Zen. "Do you have Dragonkin clothing? Something… appropriate?"
Zen scoffed. "This King does not wear human garments."
"Yeah?" Yarrow countered, eyes flickering over her barely covered form. "You can't walk around wearing just scraps. Not unless you want everyone to be staring at you. Or maybe… that's what you want?"
Zen narrowed her eyes but said nothing.
Serena chuckled, stepping closer and running a finger down Yarrow's arm. "You do seem oddly concerned with what she wears—or doesn't wear."
"It's called common decency!" Yarrow huffed, but the way Serena's touch lingered sent a shiver down his spine.
The clerk returned, holding up an elegant outfit with slits in all the right places. "I think this would suit her perfectly," she said, her gaze flicking between them with an all-too-knowing grin.
Zen snatched the outfit and turned on her heel. "Fine. But don't expect me to dress like some delicate human woman."
As she disappeared into the changing room, Serena leaned in close, her lips brushing against Yarrow's ear. "She's not the only one who'd look good in something new. Maybe I should try something on, too? Would you help me with the straps?"
Yarrow swallowed hard, caught between two dangerously alluring women who seemed to enjoy tormenting him. This adventure was turning out to be far more perilous than any dungeon they had faced.
Yarrow's eyes gleamed with mischief as he leaned in slightly. "Really? Can I see it first then?"
Zen blinked, caught off guard. "What?"
"Didn't you say you don't care if this body is seen? Can I take a look first?"
For a moment, she was silent, then a slow, teasing chuckle escaped her lips. "Yes, I don't care anyway. It's fine for you to see."
As she spoke, her fingers brushed against the edge of her cloak, lifting it just enough to expose a tantalizing glimpse of smooth, pale skin. The curve of her hip, the faintest shadow of her toned stomach—it was barely anything, and yet it sent a wave of tension crackling through the air.
Serena shifted uncomfortably beside them, darting a glance around the store. "Uh, that... Maybe not here?"
But Zen's movements stalled, her body suddenly trembling, her breath hitching. She stood frozen, cloak still slightly lifted, her expression locked in shock.
"What's going on? What is this feeling?" A heat unlike anything she had ever known coiled deep within her, a strange, intoxicating warmth spreading across her skin. Her heart pounded against her ribs. She had stripped without hesitation before—so why, now, did she feel exposed? Why did her body suddenly resist?
Yarrow's gaze was steady, unashamedly drinking her in, filled with an intensity that made her stomach tighten. She could feel it, the way his eyes traced her, the way his attention clung to her like an invisible touch. It was infuriating. It was... thrilling.
"What's wrong?" Yarrow murmured, his voice dangerously low, teasing. "You didn't even pull the cloak all the way open. Could it be that, as a noble dragon, you're suddenly shy?"
Zen's breath hitched, and then she scowled, heat rushing to her cheeks. "You—you!" she sputtered, her tail flicking behind her in agitation.
That arrogant smirk of his only deepened her frustration. Her pride burned, and in a sudden burst of defiance, she yanked the cloak open, baring a generous stretch of snow-kissed skin, the gentle curve of her waist, the swell of her chest barely concealed by the thin cloth beneath.
"This King already told you," she declared breathlessly, chin lifted, trying to mask her flustered state with bravado. "It's just a low-level creature's body. What does it matter if you see it?"
Yarrow tilted his head, an appreciative gleam in his eye. "Then how about removing those little cloth strips too?"
Zen stiffened. For half a second, she just stood there, blinking in shock—then, as if reality had crashed down upon her all at once, her entire body locked up. Her arms moved on instinct, yanking the cloak back around her with frantic speed. Her skin was practically glowing red.
The clerk approached just in time, holding up several outfits. "These are specially tailored for Dragonkin. Since there aren't many, let me know if they need adjustments."
Zen seized the clothes with almost desperate urgency and stormed toward the fitting room. Just before disappearing inside, she spun around, still flushed, still breathless, and jabbed a finger at Yarrow.
"Even if it's a low-level creature's body, this King refuses to show it to a shameless human like you!"
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