Muir's POV

She bit my neck and my vision blurred, pulling me out of the emotional spiral.

I yelped, feeling the wetness on my skin, "Thank you," I mumbled, taking a deep breath.

I could still feel her teeth buried deep into the flesh. She wasn't letting go, and I could even hear her chewing on my skin.

"You can stop now," I said.

"Nah, I'm eating," she said, "Your crying is making me hungry, and I'll need loads of energy to get through your thick skull.”

"..." I felt my lips twitch. Her words sounded silly and ridiculous, yet it brought a genuine smile to my face and a strange sense of comfort washed over me, "I'm sorry."

She licked her lips, muttering, "It's okay."

My nose scrunched at the scent of sweat, cum, and blood, and looked around.

Mitchell was lying on the ground with his face buried into the pillow, his body twitching and jerking under the sheets. I noticed a basin of water by his side and realized that she was in the middle of cleaning him up when I interrupted.

I glanced at her and her naked body. She didn't have time to clean herself up either.

I hurriedly took over the towel, "Let me," I said, wiping her hands. She didn't protest and allowed me to clean her up.

Over time, I’d grown somewhat immune to seeing her naked. At first, it felt like progress ─ a sign that I could stay composed, that I wasn’t some fumbling cub anymore. But then, the thought crept in, a quiet, nagging worry: I wasn’t loving her less… was I?

I followed her gaze, landing on her right leg where Mitchell's spousal imprint stood out.

"What a strange thing," she commented, “It's still growing.”

The scorpion imprint had grown so big that its tail had reached her calf, its claws covered her whole feet, and its whole body had a death grip on her.

"I've never seen such a large spousal imprint before," I said, jealousy creeping up my chest.

The spousal imprint everyone laughed at became an envy to all. Not only did it grow, it monopolized a lot of space on her leg.

Mitchell never gave up trying to move her spousal imprint away from her feet. He was persistent and tenacious, and a little crazy about that matter. So much so that he was willing to bite and scratch our female, put his poison in her veins, and then have his way with her the feral way.

I was impressed by his willpower to go for what most deemed impossible, breaking laws, and shattering limits. We would all bash them for this at the beginning. Her, for allowing him, and him, for doing it. But we soon gave up.

"It's not like I let him do it for free. He let me be a little bit more rough with him in return. It's a good trade, a good deal," she would say.

I slipped the underwear onto her legs, draped my cloak over her shoulders, then grabbed the damp towel and started wiping Mitchell clean.

Mitchell grunted from under the blankets, his body relaxed under my gentle touch, his voice hoarse "...th. ..k... yu... mu."

"Don't mention it," I said, rubbing the wet towel against his forehead after popping a clear crystal inside his mouth, "That's what family is for. You'll have to clean after me when I'll need the favor."

He nodded without protest. There were many bruises and bite marks on his body, some scratches were still bleeding.

I could feel her gaze on my back, her eyes following the motion of the towel as I cleaned him up. It was easier to deal with my emotions when I had a job to do. It helped me get rid of the negative thoughts and kept my mind busy.

She supported her chin with her palm and smiled, "So, what do you have in mind to make our relationship stronger?"

I had no idea. Bai and I did all the things couples did ─ we talked and laughed, went on dates, slept together, and spent quality time when a chance occurred, yet we still ended up going our separate ways.

What made a bond strong?

What were the factors that could make it last?

"Muir."

I turned my head toward her, meeting her gaze.

"Do you know how much I love you?"

"...No."

"Do you know how much Bai loved you?"

I shook my head.

"Maybe the problem lies with us, and not you. Maybe you just weren't loved enough. Maybe you've given too much, and received too little. A one sided bond will always be unbalanced, and can't hold up for long."

My eyes grew wide.

She grinned, "I'm not saying Bai didn't love you, but you're the kind of guy who's all give, no take — cheap, low-maintenance, and high utility. It's easy to please and keep you happy, and because of this, people often overlook the treasure they've got, and end up not appreciating and valuing it."

I could feel my cheeks heat up and looked away. Lame. I was so lame, and couldn't deny it. She teased me and flustered me, not out of meanness. She was forcing me to set up boundaries, and draw a line.

Her dirty talk and teasing were something I could refuse like playful banter, not as something serious. I didn't notice when I started to say no. When did I start to put myself first, and demand what I want and need?

I felt steam rising from the top of my head, and could hear the sizzling at the realization.

"Don't you dare to fry your brains, Mr. Egghead," she warned, and I felt her fingers poking my temple, "Or should I call you Mr. Frying Chicken instead?"

"..." I took a deep breath and looked her dead in the eye, "You're not allowed to tease me, or make any inappropriate jokes, unless it's a special occasion, or we are alone. Is that clear, Mrs. Cocktease?"

She stared at me for a moment, blinking a couple of times.

Mitchell howled in laughter. His laugh sounded like the croaking of a frog in pain, but he didn't stop, and kept on laughing and laughing, "Mrs. Cocktease! Ahahaha! Ouch! Fuck!" He groaned and stopped, rolling over and curling up into a ball, "It hurts. Everything hurts. Shit. Don't make me laugh."

She looked at him, and then back at me, "What did you just call me? I didn't quite catch it."

"Mrs. Cocktease," I repeated.

She cracked her knuckles, "How about Mrs. Cockcrusher?"

"How about Mrs. Bumzilla, who gropes her males' butts as if she's blind and has to feel them to know they exist?" I took a step back and was ready to fly away, but she grabbed my foot and dragged me closer, making me stumble and fall.

Her hand reached down to cup my buttocks, "I'm not blind, but I'll make sure to grope and grab and knead them until they become big, round, and bouncy."

"..." I hid my face behind my arm, "...stop..."

Her head closed in, her hot breath tickling my ear, her lips brushing against my lobe. "Are you sure?" she whispered.

"..." My hips buckled, unable to contain the heat building up, the burning, the itching, the desire. I bit the back of my hand, trying to restrain myself.

Her nose traced the back of my neck, inhaling my scent, her hands were no longer touching me, but were resting on the sides of my body, giving me a chance to escape if I wished.

My body refused to move, and I stayed still. I wanted to jump her, to grab her and flip her over, but couldn't. I enjoyed the feeling of her wanting me, the power to deny her and make her wait too much. It was a strange sense of control, a feeling I've never felt before, and wasn't able to describe.

Instead of seducing me, and making me crave her, it was the opposite. She would be the one coaxing me into giving her a taste of me and the right to have me.

She nuzzled the back of my head, and I could hear her groan in frustration. That alone was enough to send me over the edge. I fluttered my eyes shut and bit my hand harder, then licked and sucked on the bite, imagining the way her skin would feel under my tongue.

The denial and the wait made the longing, the craving, and the desire much stronger. She continued to trace her nose down my back, taking her time to explore the bumps and the ridges. The fire in the pit of my stomach burned brighter and hotter, spreading and growing, reaching the ends of my limbs.

"Muir."

Her voice, her breath, her body. They were calling out for me, asking me, and demanding me.

"Muir."

"Enough," I heard myself say, "It's enough."

"Muir.”

My hand reached toward her hand, placing it under my chest, her palm pressing against the beating of my heart, "I'm here."

She fell on my back, wrapping her arms around my chest, her face hiding between my shoulder blades, her hot breath sending a tingling sensation down my spine.

We stayed like that. Quietly chatting together while I was lying on my stomach with my face hidden in my arm and her lying on my back.

Mitchell was laying by our side, snoring and drooling.

"Muir."

"Hmm?"

"Does the sexy stuff ban still stand?"

"Yes, it still stands. Why are you asking?"

"No reason," she replied and I could hear the grin in her voice, "I'm just making sure. I didn't want to risk the possibility of having the opportunity for something sexy and kinky slip away, so I asked. Just in case."

"..."

"Just to make sure."

"..."

"No harm in making sure."

"..."

"Making sure is better than being unsure."

"..."

"Making sure is safe."

"..."

"Making sure is responsible."

"..." I hit my forehead against my arm, muffling my laughter. This Mrs. Cocktease, how was I supposed to resist her? She could be all naked, and I would still have the will to say no.

But this? Her silly randomness made me want to laugh and roll over, and smother her with love and affection. How was I supposed to withstand it? I didn't. I couldn't. And I didn't even want to try.

"Make sure to tell me if you're interested,” she continued to make me laugh.

"I'll let you know."

"Okay. Just to make sure, let me clarify ─ I'm interested, and I would love to try."

"I'll think about it."

"Think about it a lot then."

"I am."

"A lot."

"I am!"

"A looooooooot."

"Stop, I can't anymore," I laughed and turned around, hugging her and pulling her close, "You're making it hard to think about anything else. Didn't you have your fill with Mitchell? How can you still have an appetite for more?"

She had her eyes closed, her expression serene and peaceful. “Aren't you hungry, too?" she asked. She must have been exhausted. The sleep caught up to her the moment she found a comfortable position.

"I'm starving, actually," I responded.

"Me too," she mumbled and yawned, "Let's eat."

"Sure. What would you like to have?"

"You. With whipped cream and strawberries, drenched in honey and sprinkled with nuts."

"Mm, I'll make sure to prepare the ingredients," I said, trying to stay calm and not get worked up again, "And bring them with me next time, so we can try."

She hummed, patting my bottom a few times before her breathing grew steady. "See you in your dreams, my little Fried Chicken."

"..." I took a deep breath and exhaled, "I'll see you in mine. Goodnight, my little Crazy Bum."

And just like that, she was out. I successfully fended off the temptation and survived. Alive, and hungry. Starving, to be exact. My hand reached down to adjust the erection straining against the fabric, and looked down at her.

My hand moved, rubbing and massaging the hard-on. This needed to be taken care of before I could face her again.

Mitchell groaned again and turned to his side, facing me, his eyes still closed. He was smiling, his lips stretched, showing a glimpse of his sharp teeth, and his eyes were half-opened, revealing the yellow orbs underneath. He looked creepy, and his smile was unsettling, even when asleep.

The sight of his face instantly killed my libido, causing me to grimace, and lose interest.

I closed my eyes and tried to fall asleep, only for Gold to enter the room, “...”

Taken aback by my presence, Gold froze midway and stared at me, “Did she?”

I nodded and met his gaze, "Did something happen?"

Gold took a glance at Mitchell, "His father wanted to come over, but I managed to convince him otherwise," he reported, "He'll wake up from my hit sooner or later, and will demand to see Yali again."

Mitchell grunted in response, the clear crystals he consumed earlier allowed him to speak normally again, "Ugh, don't want... wait...why would he want to see her?"

"He said that no female should have been able to withstand such a strike without breaking or losing consciousness. The emerald you gave her had saved her life, but she still took a heavy hit. He wanted to make sure that she was really okay," said Gold, his frown deepened, "He wouldn't. Would he?"

My hold on her tightened, "It's his cub's female."

"He can't," Mitchell gritted his teeth, his nails digging into the floor, cracking it, and leaving behind deep gashes, "Not her. Anyone but her."

╔═══ Author's note ════╗

Muir is the only one, who doesn't have a unique pet name for YY. It's because no matter what he comes up with, it would end up sounding lewd. 🤣

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