“Why the thoughtful look?” Aldra asked as she casually sat down next to Ciliren, in one of the armchairs in the main living room.

  The werewolf crossed one leg over the other and rested her elbow on the back of the chair, leaning slightly toward her companion. Her wolf ears, always restless, twitched with mild curiosity.

  “What do you mean?” Ciliren replied, startled.

  She had been staring into space, not really seeing anything. Aldra’s voice abruptly brought her back to the present.

  The werewolf didn’t answer immediately. Instead, she stared intently at her friend for several seconds. Her eyes seemed to pierce beyond the surface, as if trying to unearth something hidden beneath the elf’s restrained expression. All she found was nervousness and doubt.

  “Something’s happened to you,” she finally stated. “You’ve been acting strange all last week.”

  Ciliren lowered her gaze and let out a deep sigh, one of those born of inner weariness. "It's nothing."

  Aldra snorted softly. "That can't be 'nothing.' I know you well enough to know when something's eating you up inside..." Her voice trailed off. "Did Joel hurt you? Did he force you to do something terrible?"

  The reaction was immediate. Ciliren raised her head quickly, almost indignantly. "What does Master Joel have to do with this?"

  Aldra narrowed her eyes, and a slight, somewhat forced, lopsided smile appeared on her face. "Please. Of course I know what's been going on between you two."

  Ciliren's heart skipped a beat. "What are you talking about?"

  "My nose doesn't lie," Aldra said calmly. "You've been smelling of him for over a month. It doesn't matter how often you bathe, how much perfume you wear. I can recognize him clearly... and right now, the scent is especially strong."

  She paused deliberately. "It's coming from your crotch."

  "Good heavens!" Ciliren exclaimed, covering her face with both hands, completely red. "Does everyone know?"

  Aldra let out a short laugh. “No, only Cynka and I have a sense of smell developed enough to pinpoint whose scent it is. But some children in my tribe have already commented that ‘you smell different.’”

  The silence that followed was heavy. Ciliren kept her face hidden in her hands, wishing the ground would swallow her whole. Her usual composure had completely vanished.

  Aldra watched her for a few more seconds before softening her expression. “At first, I wanted to talk to you,” she continued, “but I didn’t see any change in your attitude, and you didn’t seem particularly uncomfortable or scared. I thought that if you wanted to talk, you’d do it on your own. So I kept quiet.”

  She leaned a little closer to her. “But not now. Now I see you’re uneasy. And I can’t just ignore it.”

  Ciliren slowly lowered her hands from her face, though she avoided looking up. “It’s not what you think,” she murmured. “He hasn’t done anything wrong to me.”

  Her fingers intertwined in her lap. “Actually… I was the one who approached him. I thought I could help him.” She took a deep breath. “But for reasons I still can’t explain, we ended up entangled in something completely strange.”

  Aldra tilted her head. “Did you become his lover… or his plaything?”

  The question was direct, without malice on her part.

  The blush on Ciliren's face deepened. "I don't know," she admitted quietly. "I don't know what I really am." Her eyes finally lifted, but they were filled with confusion. "Probably a little of both."

  "Then what happened?" Aldra asked, leaning slightly toward her.

  Ciliren glanced discreetly around. The main hall was nearly empty at that hour; only distant voices drifted from other rooms. Even so, the elf made sure no one was close enough to hear what she was about to say in a low voice.

  “Did you notice I managed to reach the rank of Mystic Master?”

  Aldra blinked once and then nodded naturally. “Of course. And congratulations on that. I know you’ve been stuck for over a decade since your last advancement. It’s not easy for elves to level up.”

  The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

  Ciliren offered a faint smile, but it didn’t last. “I also thought it was due to my own efforts,” she continued. “Or perhaps the potions Nana has been giving us lately.”

  Her voice trailed off until it was almost a whisper. “But… what would you think if I told you it’s because of my relationship with Master Joel?”

  Aldra frowned, her expression changing immediately. "Are you talking about your intimate encounters?"

  Ciliren nodded, her face flushed with a restrained blush. "Both he and I have significantly increased our strength... through the mere act of our physical union."

  The silence that followed was heavy.

  "Like in dual cultivation?" Aldra exclaimed, now openly surprised.

  “Very similar,” Ciliren replied. “But with results far superior to anything I’ve ever heard of.” Her fingers tightened on her skirt. “In my case, I’m progressing at a breakneck pace. If this continues… in just a few months I could reach the rank of Grandmaster.”

  Aldra’s eyes widened. “That’s impossible.”

  “But it’s true.” Ciliren’s expression changed, showing embarrassment. “The problem isn’t my growth,” she admitted. “It’s his.”

  Aldra tilted her head. “What do you mean?”

  “Master Joel is becoming more and more energetic. I don’t know if it’s because he’s gaining power through our intimacy… but he’s becoming increasingly insatiable.”

  Aldra blinked. “Is that your problem?”

  “I know he’s holding back with me,” Ciliren continued in a low voice. “I can see it. He never loses control… but he’s never completely satisfied either.”

  Her gaze lowered. "I simply can't keep up with him."

  For the first time since the conversation began, fear was evident on her face. “I’m afraid he’ll get tired of me… and leave me.”

  Aldra observed her silently for a few seconds, assessing the sincerity in her voice, the tension in her shoulders, the uncertainty in her eyes. “You really are obsessed with him.”

  Ciliren hesitated before replying. “I don’t know if it’s obsession,” she murmured. “But the bond I’ve formed with him… is too strong to ignore.”

  Aldra glanced at her sideways, and a spark of curiosity momentarily replaced her concern. “Tell me something,” she said more directly. “Is it that satisfying to be with him?”

  “What?!” Ciliren nearly choked on her breath.

  “How many times do you climax when you’re together?”

  The elf’s face turned completely red. “What are you saying? Do you really need to know that?”

  Aldra maintained an unusually serious expression. "Yes. It's important."

  Ciliren hesitated. She looked away. Then she sighed, resigned. "I think... at least ten times per encounter. Although the last time... it was more than fifteen."

  Aldra remained completely still. "You're kidding me."

  “What?” Ciliren asked, now worried. “Is it too much… or too little?”

  “It’s absurd,” the werewolf replied incredulously. “Don’t you remember our training? The old woman said that, if we were lucky, we might experience something like this from time to time… if our master turned out to be especially skilled. And even then, she warned us not to get our hopes up.”

  Ciliren frowned slightly. “I don’t recall being told anything like that.”

  “I’m not surprised,” Aldra retorted. “You always ignored most of those classes.”

  The werewolf looked at her with a mixture of analysis and astonishment. “That only leaves two possibilities.”

  Ciliren swallowed. “Which ones?”

  “Either you’re an anomaly… someone extraordinarily sensitive to that kind of stimulation.” Aldra paused briefly. “Or Master Joel is someone to be feared in bed.”

  Ciliren remained silent at her friend’s words. The worry didn't disappear from her face; on the contrary, it seemed to intensify, as if each possibility Aldra hinted at added a new crack to her already fragile calm.

  Aldra observed her for a few more seconds before continuing. "Tell me something… do you know if Master Joel has a relationship with another woman?" she asked with apparent nonchalance. "One of his disciples, perhaps? Or someone outside the shelter?"

  Ciliren shook her head slowly. “He’s never spoken of anything like that. I think he once mentioned that I was the first woman he’d been with… though I could be wrong.”

  Aldra raised an eyebrow. “So he hasn’t tested whether that power-enhancing phenomenon has worked on another woman as well.”

  Ciliren looked up, now with a hint of suspicion. “What are you getting at?”

  The werewolf didn’t mince words. “Don’t play innocent,” she retorted firmly. “There’s a clear opportunity to influence the man who controls our destinies. Something you started, whether you knew it or not.”

  Aldra leaned forward, placing her hands on her knees. “And from what you’ve told me, it doesn’t seem like something you can sustain alone forever. If he keeps growing and his libido keeps increasing… sooner or later, another woman will appear, stronger and more capable of satisfying him than you.” Her eyes narrowed slightly. "And then we'll have lost our chance."

  Ciliren frowned. "I thought you weren't interested in humans."

  Aldra let out a low laugh. “I find it unproductive, yes. You can’t have offspring with them. From a biological standpoint, they don’t contribute much to my race.” Her expression shifted, becoming more calculating. “But if we consider the possibility of gaining power through intimacy… and add the guarantee that he’s more than capable of satisfying his partner… that changes everything.”

  Ciliren looked at her with a mixture of disbelief and reproach. “You sound so superficial. So… self-serving.”

  Aldra reached out and placed her palm on her friend’s head, gently stroking her golden hair. “It’s the nature of our race,” she replied with a calm smile. “To follow the strongest. To bond with those who can benefit us and help us prosper.” Her voice softened. “I know that elven culture promotes monogamy, exclusive spiritual union, and the eternal bond between two souls. But you have to accept something, Ciliren…” Her fingers continued to move through the elf woman’s golden locks. “We are slaves. We will never receive the title of wife. No matter how much you secretly desire it.”

  The elf’s shoulders tensed slightly.

  “I don’t know how demon society works,” Aldra continued, “but at least we should be grateful they haven’t killed us to extract our blood.” Her tone wasn’t cynical. “Any benefit we gain from that should be considered a blessing. If the price is being a lover… or a toy… it doesn’t seem so high to me.”

  “You make it all sound so simple,” Ciliren murmured, a sadness she couldn’t hide.

  “Because for us it is,” Aldra replied with a genuine smile. Then she leaned a little closer to her friend, her eyes shining with determination. “So tell me… will you let me help you bear the burden of our master Joel’s lust?”

  Ciliren stared at her. The idea made her uncomfortable, but she also knew that Aldra wasn’t entirely wrong. If Joel continued to grow at the current rate, his need wouldn’t diminish. And she preferred to share that space with someone she trusted.

  “I don’t see any other option,” she finally admitted. “It’s better to have my best friend by my side… before some unknown woman appears and takes her place.”

  Aldra’s smile widened. “Then we’ll have to plan this carefully. Make my arrival in his bed feel natural. Nothing forced.”

  Ciliren sighed, resigned. Her mind was already starting to form possibilities. “I think I have an idea…” she murmured finally. “But it’s going to take some time.”