## Chapter 1 — An Invitation Dalia’s phone rang on a quiet evening at the Safehouse. Mai looked at it. Then at Ace. “Elisa.” That was enough to make Ace look up from the couch. Shammy, stretched out nearby, opened one eye. “The special phone?” Mai nodded. The device existed for a very small circle of people who had legitimate reason to contact Dalia directly without ever touching Mai’s normal communications. And it did one other very important thing. Mai answered. “Hello?” What left the phone at Elisa’s end was not Mai’s voice. The converter built into the handset changed it in real time—lower, warmer, touched with the familiar whiskey-and-smoke timbre that belonged to Dalia. No conscious performance. No effort. Mai could sit in the Safehouse looking entirely like herself while Elisa heard exactly the woman she expected to hear. “Hi, Dalia.” Mai smiled. “Hello, darling.” Ace was already getting up. Mai pointed at her. “No.” “I haven’t done anything.” “You’re coming over here to listen.” “Yes.” “At least you admit it.” Ace settled against the kitchen counter beside her. Shammy sat up. Elisa sounded suspiciously cheerful. “How are you?” “Fine. You?” “Good.” A pause. Mai knew that pause. She narrowed her eyes. “What did you do?” “I haven’t done anything.” “That answer has become steadily less reassuring.” Ace grinned. Elisa laughed. “I wanted to ask whether you and Mandi are free tomorrow evening.” Ace’s eyebrows rose. Mai looked at her. Ace mouthed: _What?_ Mai lifted one finger. Wait. “That depends.” “On what?” “Why you’re asking.” “I’m having a few friends over.” Mai said nothing. Elisa waited. Mai continued saying nothing. Eventually: “Dalia.” “Yes?” “You’re going to make me explain everything, aren’t you?” “Yes.” “It’s just a party.” “Elisa.” “A private party.” “Elisa.” “A private adult party.” “There we are.” Ace’s grin widened. Shammy quietly moved closer. Mai continued. “How many friends?” “About ten.” “That is surprisingly reasonable.” “And their partners.” Mai’s eyes narrowed. “What kind of partners?” A fraction of hesitation. “Biosculpt partners.” Ace stopped smiling for half a second. Then smiled much harder. Mai noticed. Of course she did. “How many?” “About ten.” “So approximately twenty guests.” “Yes.” “And you.” “Yes.” “And you want Mandi and Dalia there.” “Yes.” “Why?” Another pause. This one had mischief in it. “Because I think you’d enjoy meeting them.” Mai closed her eyes briefly. “Meeting.” “Yes.” “Elisa.” “Yes?” “You are choosing your words very carefully.” “I usually do.” “Which is exactly why I’m worried.” Ace leaned closer to the phone. Mai pushed her forehead away with two fingers. Elisa continued. “It’s the same basic rule we had at the resort.” That changed the conversation immediately. Mai straightened. “Sculpt with sculpt is allowed in shared areas.” “Yes.” “Everything else goes private.” “Yes.” “All of your guests know that before arriving.” “Yes.” “And everyone knows that being invited to the party does not automatically make them available to anybody else.” “Of course.” “Handlers don’t speak for partners who can make their own decisions.” “Of course.” Mai nodded. “Good.” Ace had gone quiet too. That part mattered. Elisa’s party could be ridiculous. It could be shameless. It could become spectacularly filthy. But the rules underneath it needed to be boringly clear. Elisa had learned that much very well. Then came the next pause. Mai sighed. “Go on.” “I thought you and Mandi might like to try some of them.” Silence. Ace slowly turned her head. Shammy stared at the phone. Mai remained absolutely still. “Elisa.” “Yes?” “Try.” “Yes.” “Define try.” Elisa’s voice became painfully innocent. “I don’t think that needs defining.” Ace exploded into laughter. Shammy followed half a second later. Mai stared toward the ceiling. “Let me make sure I understand this.” “All right.” “You are having roughly ten friends over.” “Yes.” “Each with a biosculpt partner.” “Approximately.” “You have explicitly established resort-style rules because you already know the evening may become very sexual.” “Yes.” “And you are inviting Mandi and Dalia to have sex with whichever of those partners they mutually happen to be interested in.” “When you say it like that, it sounds very organized.” “It is very organized.” “Thank you.” “That was not praise.” “I’m taking it anyway.” Ace reached for the phone. Mai kept it away. “I have questions.” “I know exactly what your questions are.” “No, you don’t.” “You want to know what kinds of sculpt.” “Yes.” Mai looked toward the phone. Elisa laughed. “I knew she was there.” “She’s Ace at the moment.” “Technically.” Ace leaned close enough for her own voice to carry directly into Mai’s microphone. “Hi, Elisa.” “Hi, Ace.” That distinction was immediate. Correct. Elisa knew exactly who was sitting in the Safehouse. And exactly whom she wanted tomorrow evening. Ace noticed too. “So,” Ace said. “Types.” “No.” “Elisa.” “You can meet them tomorrow.” “Give me one.” “No.” “One.” A pause. Then: “Wolfdog.” Ace went completely still. Mai looked at her. Shammy looked at her. Ace’s expression changed in a way Mai recognized immediately. Spa. Deja. Shammy. Curiosity stored away behind those violet eyes ever since. Mai sighed. “Elisa, did you know that would get her attention?” “Yes.” Ace pointed at the phone. “You are becoming dangerous.” “I’ve been told.” “Anything else?” “You can find out tomorrow.” “Gorilla?” Mai turned toward Ace. “Where did that come from?” Ace shrugged. “Worth asking.” Elisa did not answer immediately. That was an answer. Ace’s eyes widened. “Oh, fuck off.” Shammy burst out laughing. Mai stared at the phone. “Elisa.” “I didn’t say anything.” “You didn’t have to.” Ace pointed triumphantly. “Gorilla.” “You are impossible,” Mai said. “Interested.” “That is not better.” “It is more accurate.” Mai shook her head. Then remembered something considerably more important. “No.” Elisa went quiet. Ace looked at her. Mai continued. “We talked about payment.” “Yes.” “If we are going somewhere socially with you, we cover ourselves.” “Yes.” “No escort fee.” “No.” “Elisa.” “I said yes, I remember. I didn’t say I agreed.” Ace laughed under her breath. Mai rubbed her forehead. “Elisa.” “Would Ace and Mai come?” The room went quiet. That question landed differently. Shammy stopped laughing. Ace’s expression changed. Mai looked at her. Elisa waited. “Would you?” she asked. Mai considered the answer. “Probably not.” “Why?” Ace answered before Mai did. “Because Ace and Mai would think too much.” Mai glanced at her. Ace shrugged. “We would.” She was right. “Who knows us,” Ace continued. “Who recognizes us. Whether showing up turns into something operational. Whether someone starts connecting people they shouldn’t connect.” “And Mandi and Dalia?” Ace smiled. “Mandi and Dalia can go to a party because the party sounds fun.” “Exactly.” There was no teasing in Elisa’s voice this time. Mai listened carefully. “I’m not asking Ace and Mai to come and pretend to be their covers for my entertainment. I’m asking you to become Mandi and Dalia because those are the women I want there.” Mai looked at Ace. Ace looked back at her. Annoyingly good answer. Elisa continued. “You told me the identities matter.” “They do.” “So does the time you spend becoming them.” Mai’s eyebrows lifted. That was even better. “How much?” “Two hundred and fifty.” Silence. Mai waited. Elisa waited. Ace finally said: “She means thousand.” “I know.” “Just checking.” Mai returned to the phone. “Two hundred and fifty thousand Eurodollars for one evening.” “Yes.” “That is absurd.” “I don’t care.” “I know you don’t.” “Then we’re making progress.” Ace laughed. Mai gave her a murderous look that only encouraged her. “Elisa, you are paying for our time as Mandi and Dalia.” “Yes.” “Nothing else.” “Obviously.” “Anything sexual that happens is because the people involved want it.” “Yes.” “You do not promise us to anyone.” “I wouldn’t.” “You do not promise anyone to us.” “I wouldn’t do that either.” “Good.” A beat. Then Elisa added: “And you can have as much sex as you want.” Ace immediately leaned toward the phone. “That isn’t payment.” “It got your attention.” “It absolutely did.” Mai covered her eyes. Shammy was already laughing again. “Elisa,” Mai said, “please stop encouraging her.” “I’m not sure she needs help.” “She absolutely does not.” Ace looked offended. “I am standing right here.” “That is part of the problem.” Elisa laughed. Then, with perfect casualness: “I’m participating too.” Ace stopped. Mai lowered her hand. Shammy stared. Ace leaned toward the phone again. “What?” “I’m not planning to spend my own party standing at the edge of the room watching you two.” Mai stared. Ace slowly smiled. “Elisa.” “Yes?” “You have thought about this.” “Yes.” “A lot.” “Yes.” “That is deeply concerning.” “Thank you.” “There is more, isn’t there?” Mai asked. “Maybe.” Mai sighed. “What did Lena do?” Ace snapped her head toward her. Elisa was silent. Mai smiled. “Oh, I know you now.” “That’s unfair.” “What did Lena do?” “A dress.” Ace immediately started laughing. Shammy whispered: “Of course.” “What kind of dress?” Mai asked. “A beautiful one.” “Elisa.” “Very elegant.” “Elisa.” “Entirely appropriate for a high-level corpo dinner.” “Elisa.” “And wrinkle-free.” Ace stopped laughing. Mai stopped smiling. They knew exactly what that meant. Lena had used the same family of fabric for their own eveningwear. Fabric that could survive sitting, dancing, travel, a night in a car, being dropped on a floor— and still look freshly pressed afterward. Because when Lena built eveningwear for Mandi and Dalia, she designed around the reasonable expectation that the dress might spend part of the evening somewhere other than on its owner. Mai asked: “Fast-drop?” “Yes.” Ace made an appreciative sound. Shammy covered her face. Mai laughed despite herself. “You had Lena make you a fast-drop evening gown.” “Yes.” “For this party.” “Yes.” “Before you called us.” “Yes.” “You were confident.” “I was hopeful.” “You planned the outfit before knowing whether we would come.” “I planned my outfit before knowing whether you would come.” Ace pointed toward the phone. “That was good.” Mai nodded reluctantly. “It was.” Elisa sounded pleased with herself. “I wanted my own version. Not something that makes me look like Mandi or Dalia. Something that still looks completely like me.” “Good,” Mai said immediately. That mattered. Elisa was discovering herself. Not becoming somebody else. “And Lena understood?” “Immediately.” “That worries me too.” “It probably should.” Ace leaned against Mai. “So now you have one of ours.” “I have my own.” “Even worse.” “Better.” Ace smiled. “Probably.” Elisa let them sit with that for a moment. Then: “I didn’t think it would be fair to ask you two to try my friends’ partners if I wasn’t willing to do the same.” Ace went still again. Mai looked at her. She could see the spark forming. No. No, no, no. “Elisa,” Mai said carefully, “you do understand that challenging Mandi is generally a terrible idea.” “I wasn’t challenging Mandi.” Ace’s eyebrow rose. Mai waited. Elisa continued: “I was challenging both of you.” Ace answered instantly. “We’re coming.” Mai closed her eyes. “I am still holding the phone, darling.” “Then tell her.” “She heard you.” “I did,” Elisa said. Shammy was laughing hard enough to shake the couch. Mai surrendered. “Seven?” “Seven.” “Dinner first?” “Yes.” “Social introductions before anybody starts treating your guest rooms like public transportation?” Elisa laughed. “Yes.” “Good.” “Dalia?” “Yes?” “Bring the pink hair.” Mai smiled. “Oh, absolutely.” “Mandi?” Ace leaned closer. “Yes?” “Try to get some sleep.” Ace narrowed her eyes. “Elisa.” The call disconnected. For three seconds the Safehouse was silent. Then Shammy said: “Ten.” Ace turned. “Approximately.” “Wolfdog.” “Yes.” “Probably gorilla.” Ace’s grin returned. “Yes.” “And Elisa bought herself a fast-drop dress.” Ace slowly looked at Mai. Mai slowly looked back. Shammy pointed between them. “Oh, you two are fucked.” Ace smiled. “That appears to be the invitation.” --- The transformation began the following afternoon. Not at the door. Not in the car. Not as some invisible cut between Ace and Mandi, Mai and Dalia. They became their covers deliberately. Lena had arrived with the wardrobe several hours earlier. Three garment bags. Two remained at the Safehouse. The third had gone directly to Elisa. Ace stood in front of the bedroom mirror in a robe while Lena worked the ChromeLock treatment through her short black hair. The change came quickly. Black disappeared beneath impossible neon orange. Not dyed orange. Not merely bright. Mandi orange. The kind of color that announced itself before the rest of the woman entered the room. Ace watched the final section settle. Then tilted her head. “There she is.” Mai, sitting nearby while preparing her own transformation, smiled. “Halfway.” Ace picked up the black contacts. Her violet eyes vanished next. The effect was immediate. Not enough to erase Ace. Enough to break the visual pattern anyone looking for Ace expected to find. Then came the voice cartridge. Ace handled that herself. Temporary biosculpt tech. Small. Familiar by now. She administered it and waited for the brief uncomfortable transition to pass. When she spoke again, the voice belonged to Mandi. Not the Dalia phone’s electronic conversion. This was physical. Persistent. Portable. “Better?” Shammy, watching from the doorway, grinned. “Much.” Ace smiled at her reflection. Mandi smiled back. Beside her, Mai’s transformation went farther. The ChromeLock took her own hair into screaming neon pink. Not tasteful pink. Not subtle. Dalia pink. Her eyes followed. Neon green. Reflective enough that certain angles caught the same sharp green impression as Ace’s katanas. Then Lena brought out the face mesh. Mai held still while it settled against her skin. Dermal-conforming. Warm. Flexible. Designed to move with expression rather than sit on top of it. Nothing grotesque. Nothing mask-like. Just enough change across proportions and facial read that Mai ceased to be an obvious answer to the question of who stood in front of the mirror. Finally the voice. Mai used her own temporary biosculpt cartridge. She waited. Swallowed once. Then said: “Well?” Whiskey. Smoke. Low warmth. Dalia. Ace turned toward her. And Mandi’s smile became positively indecent. “Oh, hello.” Dalia laughed. “There you are.” The distinction mattered. Yesterday Elisa had called Dalia’s phone and heard a converted voice while Mai still sat in the Safehouse as Mai. Tonight there was no converter involved. Dalia could put the phone down, walk across Elisa’s apartment, whisper into somebody’s ear— and the voice stayed hers. Lena opened the first garment bag. Mandi’s dress. The fabric was dark and expensive, constructed from the same stubbornly wrinkle-free material Lena had developed for earlier cover wardrobe. Short. Precise. Luxury rather than street. It looked designed to survive a very expensive evening. It was actually designed to survive Mandi. Which was considerably harder. Lena handed it to her. Mandi ran the fabric between two fingers. “Same release?” “Improved.” Mandi looked up. “How improved?” “Faster.” Mandi grinned. “Marry me.” “No.” “Cruel.” “You’d get bored.” “Probably.” The release points were invisible when the garment sat correctly. No obvious tear-away seams. No cheap stage trick. Nothing about it announced what it could do. Until Mandi wanted it gone. Then it would cease being clothing with almost insulting efficiency. Lena opened the second bag. Dalia’s. Longer. More elegant. Still unmistakably Dalia. The screaming pink hair and neon-green eyes supplied more than enough visual aggression; the dress itself could afford restraint. Thigh-high boots completed it. Mai stepped into them last. Dalia emerged. She turned once in front of the mirror. The fabric settled immediately. No wrinkles. No disturbance. No hint of the fast-drop construction. Mandi looked at her. “Very nice.” Dalia looked back. “Behave.” “No.” “Worth trying.” Then Lena took out a photograph. Elisa. Wearing the third dress. Both women went silent. It was not Mandi. Not Dalia. Not a joytoy costume transplanted onto a corpo heiress. It was Elisa. Elegant. Bright. Young without looking childish. Expensive without needing to prove it. A genuine corpo evening gown built around her own taste and silhouette. Mandi leaned closer. “Oh, that little bitch.” Dalia smiled. “She did it properly.” Lena nodded. “She knew what she wanted.” “And underneath?” Mandi asked. Lena gave her a look. “Mandi.” “What?” “You will find out tonight.” Mandi’s eyes widened. “She told you not to show us the release.” “She asked me to leave her something to demonstrate herself.” Dalia laughed. Mandi looked personally betrayed. “She planned a reveal.” “Yes.” “I love her.” “I know.” Lena took the photograph back. “Now remember something.” Mandi looked at her. “What?” “These are still evening gowns.” “Yes.” “Not disposable clothing.” “Yes.” “You drop them, you pick them up.” “Yes.” “You do not leave them under furniture.” Mandi looked away. Lena narrowed her eyes. “Mandi.” “No promises.” Dalia laughed. Lena looked at her. “You too.” “I am much more responsible.” Mandi stared at her. Dalia managed to hold the expression for two seconds. Then smiled. “Fine.” Lena shook her head. Shammy watched from the doorway, taking in the orange hair, the pink hair, the impossible eyes, the two immaculate dresses. Then she smiled. “Ace and Mai definitely wouldn’t go to this party.” Mandi looked at Dalia. Dalia looked back. No hesitation. “No,” Dalia said. Mandi’s smile widened. “But we will.” Lena glanced at the clock. “Then finish getting ready.” Mandi reached for her collar. Dalia picked up the menthol lollipop waiting beside her jewelry. The last little pieces clicked into place. Not disguises. Not lies. Permissions. Ace did not disappear. Mai did not disappear. But the women who looked back from the mirror were freer in specific, deliberate ways. Mandi adjusted the discreet collar at her throat. Dalia slipped the lollipop between her lips. Their eyes met in the mirror. Orange. Pink. Black. Green. Two wrinkle-free fast-drop evening gowns that Lena had built with a brutally realistic understanding of what kind of night they were about to have. Mandi smiled. “How many do you think?” Dalia did not even pretend to misunderstand. “No.” “I’m asking scientifically.” “No.” “Three?” “No.” “Four?” “Mandi.” “Five?” Dalia turned toward her. “We have not even left the Safehouse.” “I like setting goals.” “This is not a performance review.” “Could be.” Dalia walked past her. Mandi followed. Shammy called after them: “Try not to break Elisa!” Mandi answered without turning. “She challenged us!” Dalia sighed. “Please stop reminding her.” Mandi laughed. And together they headed for the door. Tomorrow morning was already beginning to look like a problem. --- ## Chapter 2 — The Host Elisa’s residence looked different when Mandi and Dalia arrived as guests rather than escorts. Not physically. The same private elevator opened onto the same upper level. The same discreet security presence remained well outside the evening itself. The same glass walls carried Night City across the horizon in sheets of light. But the apartment had been rearranged. Furniture pulled back. Several smaller seating groups instead of one formal social area. Food distributed through the adjoining dining space. Drinks placed where people could reach them without turning the room into a queue. Music already running low enough for conversation. And people. A lot of people. Mandi stepped out of the elevator first. Dalia followed. One of Elisa’s staff greeted them, took their outer layers, and managed not to stare. That was impressive. Mandi’s neon-orange hair made discretion difficult. Dalia was worse. Her screaming neon-pink dreadlocks fell around the shoulders of Lena’s dark evening gown, the color almost offensively bright against the controlled elegance of the wrinkle-free fabric. Neon-green eyes caught reflections whenever she turned her head. The menthol lollipop between her lips completed the effect. Mandi looked her over once. “You know, subtle really suits you.” Dalia removed the lollipop. “You have orange hair.” “Elegant orange.” “There is no such thing.” “Jealous.” “Deeply.” They stepped into the main room together. Ten had sounded like a number. Here, it became a population. Not all the biosculpts were immediately obvious. Several were. A broad feline form near the bar. Something scaled and elegant near the windows. A heavily built horned sculpt laughing with two people near one of the seating groups. Farther back— the wolfdog. Mandi saw him immediately. Dalia saw Mandi see him. She said nothing. Not yet. Then Mandi’s gaze moved farther. Stopped again. Dalia followed it. The gorilla sculpt stood near the open doors leading toward the terrace. Massive. Dark. Immensely broad through the shoulders and upper body, but balanced enough that the sculpt looked designed rather than exaggerated. Human eyes beneath the altered face. Calm posture. One hand resting lightly on the shoulder of the handler beside him. Mandi went very quiet. Dalia looked at her. “No.” Mandi turned. “What?” “You know what.” “I have said nothing.” “You did not need to.” “I am merely surveying the room.” “You are surveying one very specific part of the room.” Mandi looked back toward the gorilla. “I appreciate quality.” “Of course you do.” Then a familiar voice reached them. “You made it.” Both turned. Elisa stood several meters away. And for once, neither woman said anything immediately. The photograph Lena had shown them had not done the dress justice. It was unmistakably Elisa. Cream with restrained metallic detailing. Elegant lines. Corpo-level tailoring. Nothing remotely resembling joytoy costume. Nothing copied from Mandi or Dalia. It looked like something Elisa could have worn to a board dinner, private gala or obscenely expensive charity event without attracting the wrong kind of attention. Except Mandi knew. Dalia knew. Elisa knew. Somewhere inside that completely respectable evening gown was Lena’s fast-drop construction. Elisa looked at them. At Mandi. At Dalia. And then her expression changed. The host disappeared. The heiress disappeared. What remained was simply Elisa seeing two women she loved having in her life. She crossed the distance quickly. Mandi barely had time to smile before Elisa wrapped both arms around her. Not polite. Not restrained. A full, shameless embrace that pulled Mandi tight against her. Mandi laughed and returned it immediately. “Elisa.” “I missed you.” “You saw me recently.” “I still missed you.” “That is acceptable.” Elisa leaned back just enough to look at her. Mandi’s hands stayed at her waist. Elisa’s stayed around her shoulders. Then Elisa kissed her. Not a greeting peck. Not something quick enough to leave plausible deniability. A real kiss. Warm. Familiar. Long enough that Mandi’s smile disappeared into it. Long enough that one of Elisa’s friends somewhere nearby laughed softly. Long enough that when they finally separated, Mandi looked extremely pleased with herself. “Well.” Elisa smiled. “Well.” “You really did miss me.” “I told you.” Mandi’s hands slid a little lower at Elisa’s waist. Completely unashamed. Elisa did not move them. Instead she looked past her. At Dalia. Dalia had been watching with an amused smile. Elisa held out one hand. “Come here.” Dalia laughed. “Oh?” “That was not optional.” “Dangerous phrasing.” But she went. Elisa released Mandi only long enough to pull Dalia into her arms. The difference in greeting was subtle. Not less affectionate. Different. Dalia folded around her more slowly, one arm high across Elisa’s back, the other settling low around her waist. Elisa pressed close immediately. Dalia kissed her temple first. Then her cheek. Elisa turned her face. And the next kiss landed properly. Dalia did not rush it. That was Dalia. Where Mandi’s affection often arrived bright and immediate, Dalia let the kiss deepen gradually. Elisa’s hand slid up into the neon-pink dreadlocks. Dalia’s fingers tightened lightly at Elisa’s waist. The kiss lasted. And lasted. Mandi folded her arms. “Oh, come on.” Neither woman stopped. Mandi looked toward the nearest group of guests. “See what I have to deal with?” Someone laughed. Eventually Elisa and Dalia separated. Barely. Their foreheads remained close. Dalia’s voice, low whiskey and smoke, dropped another fraction. “Hello, darling.” Elisa smiled. “Hi.” Mandi stepped in behind Elisa and wrapped both arms around her waist. “That one was longer.” Dalia put the lollipop back between her lips. “Jealous?” “Yes.” Elisa laughed and leaned back into Mandi. Dalia looked at her dress. Then at Elisa. Then slowly smiled. “You look beautiful.” Elisa’s expression softened. “Thank you.” Mandi rested her chin on Elisa’s shoulder. “And innocent.” Elisa turned her head. “I am.” Mandi laughed directly against her neck. Dalia shook her head. “No.” “That was very rude.” “It was accurate.” Elisa tried to look offended. Failed. Mandi’s arms remained around her. Nobody seemed particularly interested in pretending they were merely friends. Good. That was not what they were. One of Elisa’s guests walked past with a drink and smiled. “Those two?” Elisa looked at her. “Yes.” “Thought so.” Mandi lifted one hand from Elisa’s waist. “Hi.” The woman laughed and kept moving. Elisa looked back at Mandi. “You have a reputation.” “I have several.” Dalia added: “Most deserved.” “Traitor.” Elisa finally wriggled free of Mandi’s arms. Only partly. Mandi kept one hand resting at her hip. Elisa let it stay there. Then Mandi stepped back enough to inspect the gown. Slowly. Very slowly. Elisa crossed her arms. “Are you done?” “No.” Dalia laughed. Mandi circled her once. Elisa remained still. “You really did make it yours.” “That was the point.” “Lena wouldn’t show us how it works.” “I asked her not to.” “I know.” “You sounded offended when Dalia told me.” “I was offended.” Dalia leaned in and kissed Elisa’s cheek. “She was.” Mandi pointed at her. “You were too.” “I have better self-control.” “That is a lie.” “Usually.” Elisa laughed. Mandi looked at the gown again. “Show us.” “No.” Mandi stared. “No?” “Later.” “You planned a reveal.” “Yes.” Dalia smiled around the lollipop. “That is extremely you.” Elisa looked pleased. “Thank you.” Mandi put one hand dramatically to her chest. “I cannot believe Lena participated in this betrayal.” “She was very helpful.” “She always is when she should not be.” Dalia glanced around the room. “Most people here already?” “Yes.” “Everyone briefed?” “Yes.” “Any changes?” “No.” Elisa’s expression became slightly more focused. “The same rule I told you yesterday. Sculpt with sculpt is fine in shared areas. Anything else goes private.” Mandi nodded. “And nobody is offered to anyone.” “No.” “Good.” Dalia looked toward the room. “Who knows who we are?” “As Mandi and Dalia?” “Yes.” “Most of them know the names. Some know the reputation.” Mandi smiled. “Excellent.” “No one knows anything else.” “Better.” Elisa nodded. Then Mandi looked past her again. Toward the wolfdog. Elisa followed the glance. Her smile appeared immediately. Dalia caught it. “No.” Elisa looked at her. “What?” “Do not encourage her.” “I haven’t done anything.” “You are smiling.” “I’m happy.” “That is not an innocent smile.” Mandi looked between them. “What?” Dalia pointed toward the wolfdog. Mandi looked back. Then at Elisa. Elisa tried not to smile. Failed. “You knew.” Elisa lifted one shoulder. “I had suspicions.” Mandi stared. “You curated this.” “No.” “You curated this.” “They were coming anyway.” “That is not a denial.” Dalia touched Mandi lightly at the waist. “Social first.” Mandi sighed. “Fine.” Elisa slipped one arm through Dalia’s. Then reached for Mandi with the other. Mandi took her hand. The three of them moved deeper into the room together. Not host and hired companions. Not heiress and escorts. Lovers. That difference was visible before Elisa ever introduced them. Good. It should be. --- Elisa waited until they reached the central social area before speaking loudly enough to gather attention. Not everyone stopped. Not everyone needed to. Most people already knew the basic rules. “This is Mandi and Dalia.” Mandi lifted her free hand. “Hi.” Dalia smiled. Elisa still had one arm linked through hers. Mandi still held Elisa’s other hand. No attempt at distance. One of the handlers near the bar looked between the three of them. Then smiled. “So the rumors were understated.” Mandi’s eyebrows rose. “Which rumors?” “That Elisa was very fond of you.” Elisa answered before either of them could. “I am.” Simple. Immediate. Mandi turned toward her. “Oh.” Elisa looked at her. “What?” “Nothing.” Dalia laughed. “That was a real nothing.” Mandi squeezed Elisa’s hand. Elisa squeezed back. The handler smiled. “Good to know.” Then the room relaxed again. Introductions began naturally. Not a lineup. Not a catalogue. People first. Partners second. Sculpt forms only when someone wanted to talk about them. Dalia appreciated that. Elisa had learned. She had not invited ten unusual bodies into her home. She had invited friends and partners. The biosculpts were part of them. Important. Interesting. Sometimes spectacular. But never the only thing that mattered. Mandi behaved. For nearly twenty minutes. Dalia considered that a record. She talked with one of Elisa’s friends about music. Asked a reptilian sculpt about the visual work around his eyes. Spent several minutes discussing full-body remap tolerances with the handler of a broad canine sculpt. Then— Dalia lost track of her. She looked around. Mandi had migrated toward the wolfdog. Of course. Not approaching yet. Just closer. Talking to someone nearby. Coincidence. Probably. Dalia smiled. Then someone beside her said: “You watch her a lot.” Dalia turned. The speaker was a woman. Or at least Dalia read her as one without difficulty. The sculpt made the rest more interesting. Feline. Not domestic. Something closer to panther. Dark, almost black surface fur caught faint blue highlights when she moved. The facial sculpt was refined rather than exaggerated, preserving expression while shifting the overall structure enough that the human origin no longer dominated first impression. The eyes remained unmistakably human. Warm brown. Very amused. Dalia removed the lollipop. “Habit.” “Protective?” “Sometimes.” “Possessive?” Dalia smiled. “No.” The feline woman looked toward Mandi. Then toward Elisa, who had just intercepted Mandi long enough to steal another brief kiss. Then back at Dalia. “Complicated?” “Not really.” That earned a laugh. Dalia glanced toward her lovers. Elisa was still standing close to Mandi. Mandi had one arm around her. Neither looked remotely conflicted. “People make it sound complicated,” Dalia said. “And it isn’t?” “No.” The feline woman smiled. “Good answer.” Her handler stood nearby, relaxed. Dalia looked at him. “You’re her partner?” “One of them.” No defensive tone. No claim. Just information. Dalia nodded. The feline woman extended one hand. “Call me Nessa tonight.” Dalia noticed the wording. Tonight. Cover, perhaps. Party name. Did not matter. “Dalia.” “I know.” “That sounds ominous.” “Only flattering.” Dalia smiled. “Good.” Conversation followed. Slowly. Exactly her way. Dalia learned before she decided. Nessa liked being watched but disliked becoming spectacle. Liked women. Liked people who knew how to stop talking. Her handler—Tarin—was a long-term partner, comfortable enough with the evening that jealousy was not hiding under every interaction. They had been together before the sculpt. Chosen it together. Nessa loved it. Tarin liked it almost as much as she did. Dalia listened. Asked questions. Accepted answers. Somewhere during the conversation Nessa moved closer. Not much. Enough. Dalia noticed. So did Tarin. Nobody commented. Nessa looked at Dalia’s dress. “That one of Lena’s?” Dalia raised an eyebrow. “You know Lena?” “Elisa doesn’t have exclusive access to expensive bad ideas.” Dalia laughed. “Fair.” “Fast-drop?” Dalia looked down at the gown. Then back at her. “Yes.” Nessa’s smile changed. Interested. “Useful.” “Potentially.” “That sounded like an invitation.” “It wasn’t.” Nessa waited. Dalia held her gaze. Then smiled. “This is.” Nessa’s ears shifted subtly. Tarin laughed under his breath. Dalia looked at him. “You good?” He shrugged. “You should ask her.” Dalia did. “Nessa?” “Yes.” “Would you like somewhere private?” Nessa held her gaze. Then nodded. “Yes.” Simple. Dalia glanced across the room. Elisa saw her first. Their eyes met. Dalia tipped her head slightly toward Nessa. Not asking permission. Not needing it. Just sharing. Elisa’s smile widened immediately. Then she lifted her glass in a tiny salute. Have fun. Mandi noticed half a second later. Her eyes widened. Dalia smiled sweetly. Mandi mouthed: _Already?_ Dalia lifted one finger. Mandi’s mouth fell open. Elisa nearly spilled her drink laughing. Dalia turned back to Nessa. “Lead the way?” Nessa smiled. “I thought you were doing that.” Dalia’s expression shifted. Warmer. More dangerous. “Fair.” They walked toward one of the private corridors together. Behind them, Mandi called: “THAT COUNTS.” Dalia did not turn. Elisa’s laughter followed them all the way to the hallway. --- The guest room door closed. Music dropped to a distant pulse. Nessa leaned back against it for a moment. Dalia stood several steps away. No hurry. No audience. No need to perform. Nessa looked her over again. The pink dreadlocks. Green eyes. Long dark dress. Thigh-high boots. Menthol lollipop still between Dalia’s fingers. “You really do look like trouble.” Dalia smiled. “I’m told I’m the sensible one.” “That is terrifying.” “You have no idea.” Nessa laughed. Then the laughter faded naturally. She stepped closer. Dalia let her. Nessa touched one neon-pink dreadlock between two fingers. “May I?” “You already are.” “Fair.” Dalia watched her. No uncertainty. No need to manufacture one either. She lifted one hand and traced lightly along the feline sculpt’s jaw. Nessa leaned into the touch. Dalia’s thumb moved through the short fur. “So soft.” “I know.” “That sounded smug.” “I am.” Dalia smiled. “Good.” The first kiss was slow. Exploratory. Nessa initiated. Dalia answered. The second lasted longer. Nessa’s hands settled at Dalia’s waist. Dalia moved closer. Dalia’s restraint had never been lack of desire. What the cover gave her was permission. She did not need to negotiate with herself over whether she was being too visible. Too physical. Too direct. She could simply want. And right now— she wanted. Nessa’s fingers found the side of the evening gown. Paused. Dalia looked at her. Nessa looked down. Then back up. “Fast-drop.” Dalia smiled. “You’re curious.” “Yes.” Dalia took Nessa’s hand and guided it toward one hidden release point. “Here.” Nessa’s eyebrows rose. “That’s all?” “Almost.” “Lena is dangerous.” “Very.” Nessa looked at her. “May I?” Dalia nodded. “Do it.” The release was almost absurdly efficient. One controlled movement. A soft change in tension. Then the expensive evening gown stopped behaving like a gown. The fabric opened along concealed construction lines and slipped free before it had enough time to wrinkle. Nessa caught part of it. Dalia caught the rest. For a second both women simply looked at the dress hanging between them. Then Nessa laughed. “That is ridiculous.” Dalia dropped it carefully onto a nearby chair. “Lena threatened us about the floor.” “Responsible.” “She has met Mandi.” “That explains everything.” Dalia turned back toward her. Nessa’s expression changed. The joke remained. But beneath it— interest. Mutual. Dalia stepped close again. The next kiss carried less caution. Still choice. Still attention. But now familiarity was building quickly. Nessa guided Dalia backward. Dalia allowed two steps. Then stopped. Nessa stopped with her. Dalia smiled. “My turn.” Nessa’s eyes brightened. “Selective?” “Very.” Dalia reversed them gently. Direction. Not force. Nessa laughed into the next kiss. “That’s more like it.” They chose closeness one small movement at a time. Dalia’s neon-pink dreadlocks fell forward when she leaned in. Nessa’s dark sculpted fur moved beneath Dalia’s hands. They shifted toward the bed. Paused. Looked at each other. Nessa nodded. Dalia still asked. “Good?” “Yes.” “Still?” “Yes.” Dalia moved first, settling closer and changing her position until the invitation was physically clear. Nessa recognized it immediately. The moment sex began was unmistakable in Dalia’s caught breath and in the way Nessa stopped at once to read her. Dalia breathed. Adjusted. Then nodded. “Slow.” Nessa moved again. The first rhythm was warm rather than competitive. Dalia stayed close enough to feel every change in Nessa’s breathing. Nessa’s hands tightened briefly against her back. One bright dreadlock slid across dark fur like spilled neon. A laugh became a quieter sound. They changed position once because the first angle stopped being comfortable, and the change happened together without breaking the mood. Nessa’s composure began to go first. Her breathing roughened. The easy amusement in her face narrowed into concentration. Dalia noticed. “Still?” “Yes.” “Good.” The rhythm continued. Nessa’s grip tightened. Her body drew gradually taut. One last breath caught and held— then release moved through her in a visible shudder. Dalia held her close through it. No joke. No score. Just contact while Nessa’s breathing came back in uneven stages. When the tension had finally begun to leave her, Nessa opened her eyes. “You?” Dalia smiled. “Not yet.” Nessa touched her face. “Want to keep going?” “Yes.” They took a moment to settle first. Dalia changed position slightly, checked the new angle, and drew Nessa close again only when both were comfortable. The rhythm returned more slowly. This time Nessa watched Dalia. Dalia’s control lasted longer. Then her breathing deepened. Her hand tightened in the short fur at Nessa’s shoulder. Nessa stayed with the pace Dalia had chosen. Dalia stopped talking. Her eyes closed. The build became clear in the way her posture tightened and then finally gave up precision altogether. One breath stopped halfway. Her whole body went taut. Then climax broke through her in a long fractured exhale and a series of smaller shudders. Nessa held her through the last of it. Neither separated. Their breathing slowed against each other until the room became still. Dalia lay partly against Nessa. Nessa’s arm rested around her. Neither moved immediately. The party remained somewhere beyond the walls. Muted music. Distant laughter. Another world. Dalia’s breathing settled first. Nessa opened her eyes. “Well.” Dalia laughed softly. “Strong review.” “I’m processing.” “Take your time.” Nessa ran her fingers lightly through one of Dalia’s dreadlocks. “This is unfairly nice.” “The hair?” “The company.” Dalia smiled. “Better answer.” They stayed together another minute. Maybe two. No urgency to separate simply because the encounter had reached its natural end. Eventually Dalia sat up. Nessa followed. Dalia looked toward the chair. The dress remained perfectly smooth. Nessa stared at it. “I hate that.” Dalia laughed. “Why?” “Mine wrinkles if I breathe incorrectly.” “Talk to Lena.” “I might.” Dalia stood and retrieved the gown. Getting back into it took longer than getting out. Not much longer. The closures reset. Fabric settled. The dress became respectable again. Almost offensively respectable. Nessa looked her over. “You look like nothing happened.” Dalia adjusted one neon-pink dreadlock. “That is the point.” Nessa smiled. “You don’t.” Dalia looked at her. “Good.” --- They returned to the party together. Tarin noticed them first. His smile answered the only question that mattered. Nessa kissed him. Then said something quietly into his ear. Tarin looked at Dalia. “Apparently I should thank you.” Dalia smiled. “Apparently.” Nessa touched Dalia’s arm once. “Later?” “Maybe.” No promise. No refusal. Enough. Dalia turned. And found Elisa standing directly in front of her. Not Mandi. Elisa. Arms folded. Smile dangerous. Dalia raised an eyebrow. “What?” Elisa stepped closer. “You started without saying goodbye.” Dalia laughed. “You watched me leave.” “That is not the same thing.” “No?” “No.” Elisa wrapped both arms around Dalia’s waist. Dalia immediately returned the embrace. Elisa kissed her. Long enough to make the accusation obviously unserious. Long enough for Dalia to smile into it. Long enough for Mandi to arrive beside them and say: “This party is deeply unfair.” Elisa finally separated from Dalia. Barely. Then looked at Mandi. “You’re just behind.” Mandi froze. Dalia saw it. Oh, no. Mandi pointed at Elisa. “What did you say?” Elisa smiled. “You heard me.” Dalia closed her eyes. There. That was it. Mandi looked at Dalia. “One?” Dalia put the menthol lollipop back between her lips. “I thought you weren’t counting.” Mandi stared. Elisa laughed. Then lifted one finger herself. “For Dalia.” Mandi looked personally offended. Dalia smiled. The night had officially begun. --- ## Chapter 3 — Opening Round Mandi stared at the single finger Elisa had held up for Dalia. Then at Dalia. Then back at Elisa. “You did that deliberately.” Elisa lowered her hand. “I reported a fact.” “You weaponized a fact.” Dalia slipped the menthol lollipop back between her lips. “She’s learning.” Mandi turned on her. “You are not helping.” “I’m not trying to.” Elisa laughed and stepped into Mandi’s space, both arms slipping around her. Mandi’s indignation lasted approximately half a second. Then her hands settled around Elisa’s waist. “You’re enjoying this.” “Yes.” “Far too much.” “Yes.” At least she was honest. Elisa kissed her. Not briefly. Mandi answered immediately, pulling her closer until the perfectly respectable cream evening gown was pressed against Mandi’s much less respectable dark one. Dalia watched for several seconds. Then: “Are you two planning to continue the competition entirely with each other?” Mandi broke the kiss just enough to answer. “That would be cheating.” Elisa started laughing against her mouth. Dalia shook her head. “Of course it would.” Mandi kissed Elisa once more before finally releasing her. Then her black eyes returned to the room. The wolfdog remained impossible to miss. So did the gorilla. Both could wait. Another sculpt had been catching Mandi’s attention since arrival. The broad feline near the bar. Male. Lion-inspired. Tall, heavily built through the chest and shoulders, but nowhere near the absurd scale of the gorilla. His mane had been sculpted into something that looked natural at first glance and deliberate on the second. He was talking with a woman beside him. Then he looked toward Mandi. Held the look. Smiled. Mandi smiled back. Dalia noticed. “So much for the wolfdog.” “Later.” Dalia’s eyebrow rose. Mandi realized what she had said. Elisa laughed. “Oh, definitely later.” Mandi pointed at both of them. “You are ruining this party.” “No,” Elisa said. “We’re improving it.” The lion looked her way again. Mandi glanced at Elisa. “You know him?” “His partner is one of my friends.” “And him?” “Socially.” Good. No recommendation. No catalogue. Mandi liked that. “Introduce me.” Elisa smiled. “I thought you were Mandi.” Mandi stared. Dalia laughed. “She got you.” Elisa kissed Mandi’s cheek. “Go.” Mandi went. --- The lion noticed her approach immediately. His partner noticed his reaction. She smiled. “I was wondering how long that would take.” Mandi stopped beside them. “That obvious?” “To everyone.” “Excellent.” She offered one hand. “Mandi.” The lion took it. “Rafe.” The woman followed. “Celia.” “Elisa’s friend?” “Unfortunately.” From behind them: “I heard that.” Celia raised her glass toward Elisa. “Good.” Mandi laughed. Conversation came easily. Rafe had been in the sculpt for nearly a week. Long enough that movement had stopped feeling like constant conscious translation. Not long enough for the novelty to disappear. He liked the weight. The balance. The changes in sensation. Celia liked what it had done to his confidence. That part Mandi understood immediately. Different technology. Same principle. Permission. Rafe glanced at Mandi’s collar. “Mandi really you?” Mandi smiled. “Everything you’re talking to is real.” He considered that. “Good answer.” “I have those occasionally.” Touch arrived naturally after that. Rafe laughed and briefly touched her shoulder. Mandi asked before putting her fingers into his mane. He lowered his head for her. She smiled. “Oh, that is nice.” “You sound surprised.” “I like being pleasantly surprised.” Her hand remained there longer the second time. Rafe’s eyes half closed. Celia noticed. “I’m getting another drink.” Rafe looked at her. “You good?” “Very.” He kissed her. Easy. Familiar. Then Celia looked at Mandi. “Try not to corrupt him permanently.” Mandi placed one hand over her heart. “I am deeply respectable.” Celia laughed and walked away. Rafe looked at Mandi. “She likes you.” “Excellent judgment.” “And you’re impossible.” “Also excellent judgment.” The humor settled. Their distance shortened. Mandi’s hand returned to the mane. Rafe’s settled at her waist. Neither pretended it was still accidental. Mandi looked up. “Private room?” “Yes.” Simple. Rafe glanced toward Celia. She was still close enough to see them. She raised her glass. Rafe turned back. “Lead.” Mandi smiled. “Dangerous request.” “I’m willing to risk it.” “Good answer.” --- Dalia watched them disappear into the hallway. Then lifted one finger. Elisa laughed. “Now you’re doing it.” “I’m tracking personnel.” “That excuse is dead.” “Probably.” Elisa leaned against her. Dalia’s arm went around her automatically. Across the room, one sculpt–sculpt pairing had already stopped pretending they were merely flirting. The room accepted it without ceremony. People talked. Watched if they wanted. Did not if they did not. Exactly as agreed. Dalia looked at Elisa. “You happy?” “Yes.” “Nervous?” A pause. “A little.” “About them?” “No.” “About us?” Elisa looked offended. “No.” Dalia smiled. “About yourself.” Elisa sighed. “Maybe.” “There you are.” “I know what I want.” “I know.” “That isn’t the same as having done it.” “No.” Dalia kissed her temple. “You have nothing to prove.” “I know.” “But?” Elisa looked across the room. Stopped. Dalia followed her gaze. The horned sculpt near one of the food tables. Bull. Full-body work. Large. Broad. Dark reddish-brown coloring. Clearly altered face. Human eyes. He was talking with another man. Elisa looked away. Then back. Dalia smiled. “Oh.” Elisa immediately turned. “What?” “You made the face.” “What face?” “Mandi’s face.” “That is insulting.” “Accurate.” Elisa failed to suppress a smile. Dalia turned her gently toward the bull. “Go talk to him.” Elisa looked back. “You’re telling me to?” “I’m telling you that staring is inefficient.” Elisa laughed. Then glanced toward the hallway Mandi had disappeared into. Dalia caught it. “No.” “What?” “You are not waiting for her.” “I wasn’t.” “You were.” Elisa smiled. “Maybe.” Dalia pulled her close and kissed her. Long enough to make Elisa forget the hallway. Long enough that when they separated, Elisa’s expression had softened completely. Dalia kept one hand low at her waist. “This is your party.” “Bossy.” “You like me bossy.” “Yes.” “Then go enjoy yourself.” Elisa kissed her once more. Then went. --- Rafe closed the guest-room door. Mandi turned toward him immediately. Not rushing. Just done pretending the room had any other purpose. Rafe smiled. “That look again.” “What look?” “The one everybody warned me about.” “Did they?” “Yes.” “Good things?” “Mostly.” “Then they lied.” He laughed. Mandi reached toward his mane. Paused. Rafe lowered his head. Permission without words. She ran both hands into it. “So much fur tonight.” “Problem?” “Not remotely.” He kissed her. Mandi rose slightly into it. The difference in height forced him down and her up, but that only made her laugh into the second kiss. Rafe’s hands settled at her waist. Mandi’s remained in the mane. The kiss deepened. Then slowed. Then stopped. Mandi looked directly at him. “Still good?” “Yes.” “You?” “Yes.” Rafe smiled. “I noticed.” “Observant.” His fingers traced the side of her dress. Found one of the hidden release points. Stopped. Mandi’s smile appeared immediately. “You found it.” “Fast-drop?” “Yes.” “Can I?” She held his gaze. “Yes.” The dress surrendered almost insultingly fast. One release. A second small movement. Then the tailored structure simply ceased to exist. Dark wrinkle-free fabric slid free around Mandi before either of them had time to make the process graceful. Rafe caught one side. Mandi caught the other. They looked at the dress. Mandi blinked. “That really is faster.” “You sound surprised.” “Lena says many things.” She tossed it toward the chair. It hit the edge and slid immediately onto the floor. Mandi stared. Rafe followed her gaze. “Problem?” “Lena threatened me.” “Should you pick it up?” “No.” Rafe laughed. Mandi pulled him back into another kiss. This time there was nothing formal left between them. Rafe guided her toward the bed. Mandi went willingly, walking backward until the backs of her legs met it. She stopped. Rafe stopped with her. No automatic continuation. Mandi looked up. Then smiled and shifted herself onto the bed. Her choice. Rafe followed only when she reached for him. The first attempt at positioning failed almost immediately. Mandi laughed. Rafe did too. “That is not happening.” “Too tall?” “Everything is too tall from down here.” He adjusted. Mandi moved with him. They tried again. Better. Rafe paused once more when their relative size demanded another change. Mandi guided one of his hands. Shifted her own position. Looked at him. “Yes.” That was the moment. Their bodies finally found the arrangement they had been working toward. Mandi’s expression changed first. The joking disappeared. Her breath caught. One hand tightened hard in the mane. Rafe immediately stopped. Mandi shook her head. Not stop. Wait. A breath. Another. Then she pulled him closer. “Good.” He moved again. Slowly. Watching her. Mandi’s eyes closed. The rhythm established itself one deliberate movement at a time. Not frantic. Not yet. Mandi’s face made every transition clear. Curiosity. Adjustment. Pleasure. The moment she stopped thinking about how unusual the sculpt was. Rafe changed pace. Mandi’s hand tightened against his shoulder. He checked her expression. She nodded. Again. Faster now. Mandi’s orange hair moved against the bedding. Her breathing became uneven. The sound she made when Rafe found a rhythm she liked was enough to make him smile. She opened one eye. “Do not look smug.” He absolutely did. Then she stopped talking. Mandi drew him closer while Rafe kept enough control over his size that she remained the one deciding distance. Her composure broke by degrees. Eyes closing. Head tipping back. One hand losing the mane and finding the bedding instead. Then the unmistakable moment everything caught up with her. Her whole body went taut. Breath stopped. For one suspended second there was no movement at all. Then Mandi exhaled sharply and pulled Rafe down against her as the tension broke. Rafe slowed with her instead of separating. Mandi’s breathing gradually returned. His did not. She noticed. Opened one black eye. “Still?” “Yes.” “You want to keep going?” “Yes.” Mandi checked herself, then drew him close again. “Slow.” The rhythm returned only briefly. Rafe’s control tightened instead of settling. His breath caught. His shoulders went rigid. Then the tension broke in a low rough exhale and a full-body shudder. Mandi held him until the last of it eased. Only then did movement stop completely. Rafe remained close. Mandi lay under one of his arms, eyes closed, one hand resting loosely against his chest. Neither spoke. The stillness lasted. Not a token pause. Long enough to matter. Rafe finally looked down. “You good?” Mandi opened one black eye. “Very.” “Me too.” “Excellent.” She closed it again. His hand moved slowly through her neon-orange hair. Mandi made a quiet pleased sound. Then opened her eye once more. “Careful.” “What?” “If you make this comfortable, I’m staying.” “There are worse problems.” “There are nine other sculpts outside.” Rafe laughed. Mandi froze. He looked at her. “So it is a competition.” “It is not.” “You said nine.” “That proves nothing.” “Of course.” Mandi stared. Then laughed. “Shut up.” She kissed him again. Shorter. Warm. The encounter was over. The intimacy was not. When Mandi eventually stood, she retrieved the dress from the floor. Still perfectly smooth. She looked at it. Then at Rafe. “Lena will never know.” --- Elisa approached the bull alone. That mattered. The man beside him noticed her first. “Elisa.” She smiled. “Finally enjoying your own party?” “I’m working on it.” The bull offered one enormous hand. “Kellan.” “Elisa.” “I know.” “That keeps happening tonight.” “You invited us.” “Fair.” The other man introduced himself as Marc. Conversation came easily enough to surprise Elisa. Food. Travel. Night City. The absurd difficulty of finding genuinely good vegetables. Elisa laughed. “Panam has opinions about that.” “Everyone with access to real food has opinions.” “That sounds exactly like her.” Kellan was quieter than Marc. Measured. Elisa liked it. She did not need another Mandi. One was plenty. Then Kellan touched her arm. Lightly. Question rather than claim. Elisa looked at the hand. Then at him. He began to withdraw it. She caught it. Put it back. Kellan smiled. Marc noticed. “Want me to make myself scarce?” “No need.” “Good.” Kellan looked at Elisa. “Private room?” Her heart kicked once. There it was. Real now. Not a conversation with Dalia. Not a dress fitting with Lena. Not something imagined safely in advance. She could still say no. Nobody would care. That knowledge made the yes easier. “Yes.” Marc kissed Kellan briefly. “Have fun.” Then Kellan offered his hand. Elisa took it. Across the room Dalia saw them. Their eyes met. Dalia smiled. Warm. Steady. Elisa lifted one finger. Dalia stared. Then started laughing. Elisa grinned. And went with Kellan. --- Elisa closed the guest-room door herself. Then remained against it for one second. Kellan waited. Did not move closer. “You nervous?” “A little.” “Want to stop?” “No.” “Slow down?” Elisa thought about it. “Yes.” “Easy.” Exactly right. She stepped away from the door. Closer. Not all the way. Kellan let her choose the distance. Elisa touched his arm. Dense sculpted surface. Warm. Different. “This is bizarre.” “In a bad way?” “No.” “Good.” She explored slowly. Not clinically. Curiosity through touch. Kellan asked before touching her. His hand settled at her waist. Elisa looked down. At the immaculate cream evening gown. Then up. A smile appeared. Kellan noticed. “What?” “Nothing.” “That is never nothing.” “Lena made this.” “I recognized the fabric.” Elisa laughed. “Apparently everybody knows Lena.” Kellan’s hand remained at her waist. “Fast-drop?” “You too?” “At this party?” “Fair.” Elisa took his hand. Guided it to the hidden point Lena had shown her. Then stopped. Kellan looked at her. “You want me to?” Elisa held his gaze. This was the moment she had planned before ever calling Dalia. “Yes.” The mechanism released. The effect was immediate. One moment Elisa stood in perfectly structured corpo eveningwear. The next the gown opened along its concealed construction and slid away from her in smooth sections. Kellan caught part. Elisa caught the rest. She stared at the expensive fabric between them. Then laughed. Pure delight. “Oh, that is ridiculous.” “You commissioned it.” “I know.” “Worth it?” Elisa looked at him. “Yes.” She placed the gown carefully over a chair. No floor. Lena would be proud. Then turned back. Kellan still waited. That helped. Elisa approached him. The first kiss was cautious. Kellan let her set it. She broke away. Looked at him. Then kissed him again. Longer. The nerves did not disappear. They transformed. Excitement now. Her hands explored the unfamiliar contours of the sculpt. Kellan responded without rushing her. When he guided her toward the bed, Elisa stopped once. He stopped immediately. She smiled. “Still yes.” “Good.” She moved first. Sat. Shifted backward. Kellan followed only when she reached for him. The size difference demanded thought. Elisa laughed once when the first arrangement was obviously wrong. Kellan smiled. “Different?” “Very.” “Want to change?” “Yes.” They did. Elisa adjusted herself. Kellan waited. Another try. Better. She drew him closer. This mattered. Not because every physical detail needed to become visible. Because the moment itself did. Elisa looked directly at Kellan. He waited. She nodded. The transition from anticipation to sex was unmistakable. Her expression changed. A sharp intake of breath. One hand gripped his arm. Kellan froze immediately. Elisa kept her eyes closed for a second. Then opened them. “Okay.” “Sure?” “Yes.” She pulled him closer. “Slow.” He obeyed. The first rhythm was careful. Elisa concentrated on it. On the strangeness. On sensation. On whether she wanted more. She did. Her shoulders relaxed. Her grip softened. Then tightened again for an entirely different reason. Kellan noticed. “Good?” Elisa laughed breathlessly. “Yes.” The nervousness was gone now. She moved with him instead of simply receiving what happened. Adjusted. Asked for more without embarrassment. Kellan responded. The rhythm strengthened. Elisa’s careful composure began to fall apart. Not suddenly. Layer by layer. Her eyes closing more often. Breathing becoming louder. A laugh escaping once because the entire situation was still slightly absurd even while she was enjoying it. Then no more laughter. The corpo heiress who had planned everything. The woman who had commissioned the dress. The lover who had challenged Mandi and Dalia. Now simply Elisa, lost enough in the experience that none of those identities mattered. Her hand tightened. Kellan changed pace. Elisa immediately reacted. “Yes.” That was all she managed. The build became obvious. Her breathing shortened. Her body drew tighter beneath him. Kellan watched her face and stayed with the rhythm she had chosen. Elisa’s eyes squeezed shut. Then the tension broke. Her breath caught completely. She held Kellan close through the peak, face pressed against him, every trace of careful corpo restraint gone for those few seconds. Then she exhaled. Long. Shaking. Kellan slowed. Stopped. Stayed. Elisa did not immediately move away. Neither did he. She remained close with her eyes closed while her breathing gradually settled. One of Kellan’s hands rested lightly against her back. No hurry. No performance. When Elisa’s breathing had nearly settled, she realized Kellan’s had not. She opened her eyes. “You?” He smiled. “Not yet.” Elisa took a moment to check herself before answering the obvious question. “Want to keep going?” “Yes.” “Slow.” They adjusted together. The rhythm returned carefully, then strengthened as Elisa settled into it again. This time Kellan’s progression was the clearest change in the room: breath roughening, shoulders tightening, control gradually losing its exactness. Elisa stayed close and let him set the last part of the pace. “Still?” “Yes.” His answer came rough. Then his whole body went taut. A long involuntary exhale escaped as the tension released through him in a visible shudder. Elisa held him until the strain left his shoulders. Only then did they settle into shared stillness, still touching, both breathing their way back to ordinary tempo. Eventually Elisa smiled. Kellan noticed. “What?” She opened her eyes. “I’m thinking.” “Dangerous?” “Apparently.” He laughed. Elisa rested there another moment. Then: “I understand Mandi better.” “That sounds dangerous.” “It probably is.” “Dalia?” Elisa considered it. “I understood Dalia already.” “Should I be offended?” Elisa laughed. “No.” She stayed another minute. Then sat up carefully. The cream gown remained across the chair. Immaculate. Elisa looked at it. Then smiled. “Yes.” Kellan looked confused. “What?” “Nothing.” “That sounded like a real nothing.” “They’ve corrupted me.” “Your friends?” Elisa smiled. “My lovers.” “Ah.” Apparently that explained everything. --- Mandi returned to the main room first. Dalia saw her. Then the dress. Perfectly restored. Then Mandi herself. Far too satisfied. “One,” Dalia said. Mandi pointed at her. “You are not allowed to enjoy this.” “I’m already at one.” “That is why.” Then Elisa emerged from another hallway. Mandi followed Dalia’s gaze. Elisa walked normally. Almost. Three steps in, she became aware of herself and deliberately corrected it. Mandi’s grin became enormous. Elisa saw it. “Don’t.” “I didn’t say anything.” “You were going to.” Dalia stepped toward Elisa. Looked at her. Not the gown. Her. “Good?” Elisa’s answer was immediate. “Very.” Dalia smiled and kissed her. Slow. Affectionate. Long enough that Elisa relaxed into her again. When they separated, Mandi held up one finger. Elisa held up one. Dalia lifted hers. Three women. Three fingers. A perfect tie. Mandi looked around the circle. “Oh.” Dalia sighed. Elisa smiled. Then Mandi’s black eyes drifted toward the wolfdog. After that— the gorilla. Dalia saw both. “No.” Mandi looked innocent. “What?” Elisa started laughing. The opening round was over. And absolutely nobody intended to leave the score tied. --- ## Chapter 4 — Breaking the Tie The tie lasted seven minutes. Mandi knew because she checked. Not the time. The score. Dalia knew because Mandi had looked at all three of them, looked toward the room, then smiled in exactly the way she smiled before doing something unreasonable. Elisa knew because she had started recognizing that expression too. They stood together near one of the low seating groups, each holding a fresh drink. One. One. One. Elisa raised her glass. “To civilization.” Mandi looked around. A sculpt–sculpt pairing had become considerably more enthusiastic near the windows. Another had vanished behind one of the seating clusters. Someone laughed loudly from the terrace. Mandi looked back at Elisa. “Bit late for that.” Dalia slipped the menthol lollipop between her lips. “Still technically functioning.” “Barely.” Elisa smiled. Then Mandi’s attention shifted. Wolfdog. Again. This time he was closer. Large enough that people naturally gave him more physical room without appearing consciously aware of doing it. Dark grey and brown coat. Long limbs. Heavy shoulders. Full canine face. Human eyes. Very human eyes. Bright. Interested. And currently looking directly at Mandi. Dalia saw it. Elisa saw it. Mandi pretended not to. For approximately three seconds. Then: “Well.” Dalia sighed. “There she goes.” Mandi looked offended. “I haven’t moved.” “Your soul has.” Elisa laughed. The wolfdog’s handler stood beside him. Male. Older than most of the room. Relaxed enough that he clearly had no intention of managing every interaction for his partner. Good. Mandi liked that immediately. She looked at Dalia. Dalia looked back. “Go.” Mandi blinked. “That easy?” “You have been staring at him since we arrived.” “I have not.” Elisa raised one eyebrow. Mandi sighed. “Fine.” Dalia smiled. “Try not to count while you’re doing it.” “No promises.” Mandi walked away. Elisa watched her. Then looked at Dalia. “She really does walk differently as Mandi.” “Yes.” “More…” “Obvious?” “I was going to say confident.” “Both.” Elisa smiled. Then glanced across the room again. Dalia followed her gaze. The crowd favorite was still there. They had all noticed the sculpt earlier without saying much about it. Now Dalia understood why. Tall. Not enormous. Predatory without reading immediately as any single animal. Dark charcoal coloring with silver patterning along the face and shoulders. Long ears that shifted subtly with expression. Lean rather than bulky. Beautiful enough that the sculpt form stopped being the first thing one noticed after a few seconds. The face was expressive. The smile easy. The eyes pale grey. Human. Very alive. Elisa looked away first. Dalia smiled. “Oh.” Elisa glared. “Stop doing that.” “You keep making the face.” “What face?” “The same one.” “I hate that you know me.” “No, you don’t.” “No.” Dalia looked back toward the crowd favorite. Then realized something. Mandi had noticed them too. Of course she had. And if Mandi had noticed— Oh, this was going to become stupid. Excellent. --- The wolfdog’s handler noticed Mandi approaching. The wolfdog noticed first. His ears lifted. Mandi stopped just outside touching distance. “Hi.” The handler smiled. “Finally.” Mandi put one hand to her chest. “Excuse me?” “You’ve been looking at him for half an hour.” “Everybody is accusing me of staring tonight.” The wolfdog made a low amused sound. Mandi looked at him. “See? He thinks you’re rude.” The handler laughed. “He thinks you’re funny.” Mandi’s expression softened. “Better.” She looked directly at the wolfdog. “Mandi.” He dipped his head once. The handler supplied only his own name. “Jon.” Then stopped. No speaking for him. Good. Mandi looked at the wolfdog. “You understand me?” Immediate nod. “Human speech?” Another nod. “Use it?” He shook his head. Mandi smiled. “That sounds familiar.” His head tilted. “Long story.” The handler looked interested. “Full canine experience before?” “Recently.” Mandi glanced toward Dalia. Then toward Elisa. “Very recently.” Jon followed the glance. “Resort?” Mandi smiled. “Maybe.” That was enough. She lifted one hand. Stopped. “May I?” The wolfdog leaned forward. Mandi’s fingers sank into the fur along the side of his face. Her expression changed instantly. “Oh.” His eyes brightened. “Don’t look pleased.” He absolutely did. Mandi laughed. She scratched lightly beneath one ear. The reaction was immediate. Eyes half closed. A low pleased rumble. Mandi looked at Jon. “This is unfair.” Jon shrugged. “Useful feature.” Mandi looked back at the wolfdog. “Very.” The conversation continued mostly without words from him. Head movements. Posture. Ears. Eyes. Mandi paid attention. That was the point. She did not ask Jon what the wolfdog wanted. She asked the wolfdog. And when she eventually stepped closer, he met her halfway. Mandi touched her forehead lightly to his. The room faded for a moment. Not because anything magical happened. Because the intimacy of the gesture was unexpectedly quiet. Mandi smiled. “Still interested?” He nodded. “Private?” Another nod. Jon looked at him. “You want me nearby?” The wolfdog considered it. Then shook his head. Jon nodded. “Have fun.” Simple. Mandi offered her hand. The wolfdog looked down at it. Then placed one broad sculpted hand into hers. Mandi laughed softly. “This is ridiculous.” He tilted his head. “The size.” His eyes narrowed playfully. “You know what I meant.” They headed toward the hallway. Mandi looked back once. Dalia was watching. Elisa was too. Mandi held up two fingers. Dalia covered her face. Elisa started laughing. Mandi disappeared into the corridor. --- Dalia turned toward Elisa. “Two.” Elisa smiled. “He hasn’t done anything yet.” “She held up two.” “She is optimistic.” “She is Mandi.” “Same thing.” Dalia laughed. Then someone spoke beside her. “You two really are keeping score.” Dalia turned. Silver scales caught the light. The woman had been near the windows earlier. Humanoid silhouette. Reptilian sculpt. Fine scales across the face, neck and arms, silver shifting toward darker graphite along the shoulders. No grotesque exaggeration. Elegant. Controlled. Her eyes were amber. Very direct. Dalia smiled. “We keep denying it.” “I noticed.” “Elisa started it.” Elisa pointed at herself. “I did not.” The scaled woman laughed. “I’m Kaia.” “Dalia.” “I know.” Elisa smiled. “Everyone knows.” Dalia looked at her. “That is becoming concerning.” “Reputation.” “Again.” Kaia looked between them. Then at Dalia. “You’re the quieter one.” Mandi would have taken offense from across the room if she had heard it. Dalia smiled. “Usually.” “Not shy.” “No.” “Good.” Elisa noticed the tone before Dalia did. Or perhaps Dalia noticed and simply did not react immediately. Kaia moved half a step closer. Not enough to crowd. Enough to ask a question. Dalia answered by staying exactly where she was. Kaia’s eyes moved briefly to the neon-pink dreadlocks. Then back. “Those real?” “The hair is.” “The color?” “ChromeLock.” “Can I?” Dalia smiled. “Yes.” Kaia touched one dreadlock. Slowly. Let it slide between her fingers. “That is absurd.” “So I’m told.” “I like it.” “Better.” Elisa watched. Dalia looked at her. “You’re staring.” Elisa smiled. “Learning.” “That excuse is going to become dangerous.” “Probably.” Kaia glanced at Elisa. “You mind?” Elisa immediately shook her head. “No.” Then she leaned into Dalia and kissed her. Long. Slow. Deliberately enough that Kaia laughed quietly when they separated. Elisa looked at her. “What?” “Nothing.” “That was definitely something.” Kaia smiled. “Clear communication.” Dalia laughed. Elisa kissed her cheek. “Have fun.” “Planning to.” Kaia lifted one eyebrow. “That sounded promising.” “It was supposed to.” Dalia took the lollipop from her mouth. “Private?” Kaia smiled. “Yes.” Elisa lifted two fingers toward Dalia. Dalia stared. “I haven’t even left.” “Optimistic.” Dalia laughed. “Traitor.” Then she and Kaia headed for the hallway. Elisa watched them go. Alone now. For perhaps ten seconds. Then her gaze returned to the crowd favorite. And stayed there. --- The guest room Mandi chose was one she remembered. Warm light. Good soundproofing. Enough space. The wolfdog entered behind her. The door closed. Quiet. Mandi looked up. And up. Again. The difference in scale was more extreme here. No crowd to normalize it. No furniture between them. Just Mandi— small even by ordinary standards— and a full canine sculpt who looked enormous from where she stood. She smiled. “You’re even bigger in private.” His ears shifted. “Don’t get smug.” A soft rumble. Mandi stepped closer. She touched his chest. Dense fur. Warmth underneath. Then looked at him. “Still yes?” Immediate nod. “Good.” The first kiss was difficult. Not emotionally. Mechanically. Mandi laughed against the attempt. “This is going to require engineering.” The wolfdog lowered himself. Better. Mandi tried again. This time it worked. Slow. Curious. Different enough that both had to adjust. Mandi’s hands disappeared into dark fur. His stayed carefully at her waist. Never assuming. Never pulling. The kiss ended. Mandi breathed out. Then smiled. “Okay.” The wolfdog tilted his head. “Very okay.” He leaned toward her. Mandi stopped him lightly with one hand. Not refusal. Pause. Her other hand found the hidden release point in the dress. The wolfdog’s eyes followed. Mandi smiled. “Watch.” One movement. Then another. Lena’s new fast-drop construction did exactly what it had promised. The tailored dark evening gown released cleanly and fell away from Mandi in seconds. Nothing obstructed the movement. Mandi gathered the fabric once, tossed it toward the chair— missed completely— and watched it land on the floor. She stared. The wolfdog looked at the dress. Then at her. “Don’t.” A low amused sound. “Lena will never know.” The wolfdog’s ears shifted. “Traitor.” Then Mandi stepped back toward him. At first the physical sequence remained easy to read. Mandi guided him toward the bed. Not the other way around. She sat. Shifted. Looked at him. He waited. Mandi reached for him. Invitation. He followed carefully. The first positioning attempt was hopeless. Mandi started laughing. The wolfdog froze. She shook her head. “No, no. Not bad.” She looked down at herself. Then up at him. “Geometry.” His head tilted. “You are very large.” He gave her a look. “I know, brilliant observation.” Mandi moved. He adjusted. She tried another position. Better. Still not right. Everything important remained visible in the negotiation: Mandi moving herself, the wolfdog waiting, repeated eye contact, the clear absence of force. Then Mandi shifted again. Stopped. Looked at him. “Yes.” For approximately two seconds the geometry remained fully readable. Then the wolfdog moved closer— and the breadth of his body hid most of Mandi from any unobstructed line. From one side there was fur. From the other, more fur. Higher, one shoulder. Lower, nothing useful. Somewhere behind him Mandi laughed. “Oh, fuck off.” When he shifted, one flash of neon-orange hair appeared. Then Mandi’s face became visible beyond his shoulder for a second. Focused. Anticipating. She nodded. Then the angle closed again. The moment sex began was still unmistakable. Mandi’s breath caught sharply. One hand gripped deep into the coat. The wolfdog froze instantly. “Wait.” Stillness. A breath. Another. Then: “Okay.” Her hand moved. Pulled him closer. “Slow.” Most of what remained visible came in fragments. A shoulder. A hand. Orange hair. Breathing and movement carried what the blocked angles could not. A low canine rumble. Mandi laughing once when another adjustment became necessary. Then: “There.” The wolfdog stopped. Mandi shifted. “Again.” The rhythm built slowly enough that brief openings showed her expression between movements. Eyes closed. Jaw loose. Concentration replacing humor. Then the broad shoulder hid her again. The size difference defeated any continuous unobstructed view, but it never made the encounter unclear. Visible fragments kept changing: Mandi’s hand buried in fur, her head briefly against the bedding, one black eye opening when the rhythm changed, a nod, a breathless laugh. Then pleasure sharpened into something more intense. The wolfdog changed pace. Mandi reacted immediately. Her hand tightened. He stopped. She shook her head. “Don’t stop.” He waited. She pulled him closer. “Like that.” The rhythm returned. Stronger. Mandi stopped talking. Her breathing became increasingly uneven. Every time her movement changed, the wolfdog checked her and waited for the answer. Mandi kept guiding instead of being overwhelmed by the size difference. Then her hand appeared against his shoulder. Tight. Very tight. Her breath caught. Stopped. For one suspended instant the entire room seemed to hold with her. Then she exhaled sharply. A broken sound followed. Her grip tightened in the fur. The wolfdog slowed immediately. When he shifted, part of Mandi’s face appeared again. Eyes closed. Expression completely gone to pleasure and aftermath. No joke. No score. Just Mandi. Breathing. Recovering. He held his weight carefully away from her. Neither moved for several seconds. Then Mandi became aware that his breathing had not settled. The low rumble in his chest had changed too—less amused now, more strained. Mandi opened one eye. “Still want more?” Immediate nod. She checked herself. Sensitive. Tired. Still wanting. “Good.” A breath. “Slow.” They adjusted again, and the rhythm returned in a way that kept Mandi comfortable even though most of her remained hidden behind him. This time the clearest signs belonged to the wolfdog. His breathing roughened. The muscles through his shoulders tightened. The low rumble broke once, then returned deeper. Mandi’s visible hand stayed in the fur at his neck. “Still?” He nodded against her. “Good.” His whole body drew taut. For one second even the rumble stopped. Then a deep involuntary sound escaped as a full-body shudder moved through him. Another followed. Mandi held him through it. The tension gradually left his shoulders. He shifted immediately afterward, careful again, making sure his weight stayed safely away from her. Then he settled close instead. Mandi curled against the enormous warmth of the sculpt, one arm loose around his neck. The stillness lasted. Long enough for both breathing patterns to come down. Long enough for her hand to soften in the fur. Long enough that the party outside became audible again as distant bass through the wall. The wolfdog nudged gently against her hair. Mandi opened one eye. “Oh.” Another nudge. She smiled. “Five minutes.” He settled. Mandi closed her eye. “Maybe ten.” A pleased rumble. “Don’t get greedy.” They stayed anyway. --- Dalia and Kaia did not rush. That surprised neither of them. The guest-room door closed. Kaia leaned back against it. Dalia stood several steps away. The difference between this and Nessa was immediate. Nessa had approached like warmth. Kaia approached like calculation. Not cold. Measured. Dalia liked that. Kaia looked at the dress. Then at Dalia’s eyes. Then at the dreadlocks. “You’re very composed.” “So are you.” “I’m not the one with the reputation.” Dalia smiled. “Mandi has the reputation.” “And you don’t?” “Different reputation.” Kaia stepped closer. “How different?” Dalia took the lollipop from her mouth. “Find out.” Kaia smiled. Then kissed her. Direct. No tentative first touch. No performance. She had already decided. Dalia answered just as directly. Hands at Kaia’s waist. Kaia’s at Dalia’s back. The kiss deepened. Stopped. Kaia looked at her. “Still?” “Yes.” “Good.” Another kiss. Longer. Dalia’s fingers moved over the scaled texture along Kaia’s shoulders. Cooler than skin. Interesting. Kaia’s hand found the side of the gown. Dalia felt the pause. Then: “Fast-drop?” “Yes.” “Show me.” Dalia smiled. “No.” Kaia raised an eyebrow. Dalia took her hand. Moved it to one concealed point. “Do it.” Kaia’s expression changed. Interested. She activated the release. The gown gave way immediately. The wrinkle-free fabric slid from Dalia’s body in controlled sections, almost impossibly clean. Kaia caught part. Dalia caught the rest. Dalia looked toward the chair. Kaia looked too. “Lena threatened you.” “You know Lena.” “Everybody here knows Lena.” “Apparently.” Dalia placed the gown neatly over the chair. Kaia smiled. “Responsible.” “Unlike Mandi.” “Is she really that bad?” “Yes.” They laughed. Then Kaia kissed her again. The humor disappeared faster this time. Dalia let herself be guided two steps backward. Stopped. Kaia stopped. Dalia looked at her. “My turn.” Kaia smiled. “I wondered when.” Dalia reversed them. Guided rather than forced. Kaia responded immediately. The next kiss landed harder. Warmer. They reached the bed together. Dalia sat first. Kaia followed only after Dalia pulled her closer. Positioning came easily. No ridiculous size problem. No wrestling with geometry. Just two women adjusting until both were comfortable. Kaia looked down. Dalia looked up. “Still?” “Yes.” Dalia’s hand tightened lightly at Kaia’s hip. “Yes.” The transition was clear. The moment sex began changed Dalia’s expression immediately. A breath. A small pause. Then a slow smile. Kaia watched. “Good?” Dalia nodded. “Again.” The first rhythm was deliberate. Measured. Exactly like both of them. Kaia moved. Dalia answered. Neither rushed toward intensity. They built it. One change at a time. Dalia’s neon-pink dreadlocks shifted across the bedding. Kaia’s silver-scaled shoulders caught the warm room light. Nothing about the geometry hid either woman’s response. Dalia’s breathing deepened. Kaia’s control loosened. A quiet laugh escaped when Dalia changed the balance between them and made Kaia adjust. “You planned that.” “Yes.” “Selective.” “Very.” The rhythm changed again. Stronger now. Dalia’s head tipped back. Her composure remained longer than Mandi’s would have. Not because she felt less. Because Dalia’s precision survived even when the rest of her restraint did not. Then Kaia found something that broke through it. Dalia’s eyes snapped open. Kaia stopped. Dalia immediately shook her head. “No.” Kaia waited. Dalia drew her closer. “Again.” Kaia smiled. And did. The second time Dalia’s composure cracked. Breath caught. One hand tightened against Kaia. The rhythm continued. Dalia stopped trying to control her expression. That was the point. Her eyes closed. The dreadlocks spread around her like neon against the bedding. Kaia’s breathing became uneven too. They adjusted together. Built together. Then Dalia’s whole body tightened. Not sudden. Inevitable. Her breath stopped. Her hand locked against Kaia’s back. Then the tension released. Dalia exhaled in a long broken sound, pulling Kaia closer as the peak rolled through her. Kaia slowed. Stayed. Did not immediately move away. For several seconds neither spoke. Dalia’s breathing gradually settled. Kaia’s did not. Dalia noticed. “You’re still there.” Kaia laughed breathlessly. “Very.” Dalia checked herself before shifting closer again. “Want to finish?” “Yes.” “Then lead.” Kaia did. The rhythm returned with Kaia setting the last part of it and Dalia answering rather than directing. Her breathing roughened. Control loosened. One hand tightened against Dalia. Then Kaia’s whole body drew taut. A low broken exhale escaped as release moved through her in a visible shudder. Dalia held her until the tension finally left. Only then did Kaia lower herself beside her. One arm remained across Dalia’s waist. Dalia turned her head. Amber eyes. Neon green. Both smiling now. “Well,” Kaia said. Dalia laughed softly. “Strong review.” “You stole that from someone.” “Probably.” Kaia touched one dreadlock. “Still absurd.” “You like them.” “Yes.” “Good.” They remained there. Not long enough to disappear from the party. Long enough that leaving immediately would have felt wrong. Eventually Dalia sat up. Kaia did too. The dress waited on the chair. Still smooth. Dalia looked at it. Then at Kaia. “Lena is a witch.” “Expensive witch.” “Very.” Kaia laughed. Dalia dressed again. The gown reset. Fabric settled. Corpo-level elegance returned as if nothing had happened. Kaia stared. “That is offensive.” “Yes.” “You look completely respectable.” Dalia adjusted one neon-pink dreadlock. “Never accuse me of that again.” Kaia laughed. --- Elisa had moved closer to the crowd favorite without consciously deciding to. At least that was what she told herself. The truth was that she had crossed half the room. Slowly. Conversation by conversation. Drink in hand. Absolutely aware of where she was going. The sculpt noticed. Of course. Pale grey eyes followed her. Then the smile appeared. Elisa stopped. “Hi.” “Hi.” The voice was warm. Unhurried. “Arden.” “Elisa.” “I know.” Elisa sighed. “Everybody knows.” “You’re hosting.” “Still.” Arden smiled. Up close the sculpt was even harder to classify. Predator. Definitely. But deliberately hybridized enough that no single label solved it. Dark charcoal. Silver patterning. Long ears. Lean body. Beautiful eyes. Elisa realized she was staring. Arden noticed. “You can.” “What?” “Look.” Elisa laughed. “That obvious?” “Yes.” “Sorry.” “I didn’t say stop.” That changed things. Elisa smiled. Across the room— Dalia was gone. Mandi was gone. For once Elisa had nobody to glance toward. Nobody to read her decision before she made it. Good. Arden looked at her cream gown. “Lena?” Elisa laughed immediately. “Oh, for fuck’s sake.” Arden laughed too. “That bad?” “Apparently Lena dresses half this social circle.” “Only the interesting half.” Elisa smiled. “Fast-drop?” Arden asked it lightly. No assumption. Elisa held the gaze. “Yes.” “Useful.” “Very.” Arden smiled. Neither moved. Not yet. But the possibility sat clearly between them. Elisa took a drink. Then: “You’re popular tonight.” Arden’s eyebrows rose. “Am I?” Elisa looked toward the room. “I’ve noticed people noticing you.” “Including you.” “Yes.” No embarrassment. Not anymore. Arden smiled. “And your lovers?” Elisa looked toward the hallways where Mandi and Dalia had disappeared. Then back. “Yes.” That interested Arden. “All three?” “Yes.” “Competitive?” Elisa laughed. “One of us.” “Which one?” Elisa thought about Mandi. Then about herself. Her smile changed. “Ask me later.” Arden laughed. And Elisa knew exactly where this was going. Not yet. But soon. Very soon. --- Mandi returned first. Her dress was back on. Eventually. The wrinkle-free fabric looked perfect. Mandi did not. She moved carefully for the first several steps. Caught herself. Straightened. Then saw Elisa. Elisa saw her. Neither spoke. Mandi held up two fingers. Elisa covered her mouth. “Oh, fuck you.” Mandi laughed. “You started the score.” “I did not.” “You absolutely did.” Then Dalia appeared from another hallway. Neon-pink dreadlocks slightly less orderly. Dress perfect. Expression warm and satisfied. Mandi looked at her. Dalia held up two fingers. Mandi stopped laughing. Elisa stared. Dalia smiled. “Two.” Mandi narrowed her eyes. “Who?” “None of your business.” “That means good.” “It means none of your business.” Elisa laughed. Then Arden approached from behind her. Mandi saw them. Stopped. Dalia saw them too. Her eyebrows rose. Elisa looked between both women. Then at Arden. Then back. Mandi’s eyes narrowed slowly. Dalia smiled. “Oh.” Elisa immediately pointed at her. “Do not.” Mandi looked at Arden. Then at Elisa. Then at Dalia. “Oh, no.” “What?” Elisa asked. Mandi smiled. “That one.” Dalia’s smile widened. “Yes.” Elisa stared at both of them. “You too?” Mandi looked at Dalia. Dalia looked back. Then both looked at Arden. Arden laughed. “This is flattering.” Elisa folded her arms. Mandi stepped beside her. Dalia joined on the other side. Three women. One shared realization. Elisa looked at Arden. Then at Mandi. Then Dalia. “Oh, this is going to become stupid.” Mandi grinned. “Absolutely.” Dalia sighed. “Probably.” Arden smiled. “I’m suddenly very interested in how your score works.” Mandi pointed at Elisa. “She started it.” “I did not.” Dalia put the lollipop back between her lips. “Two, two, one.” Elisa stared at her. “Traitor.” Dalia smiled around the lollipop. “Tracking personnel.” Mandi laughed. And Arden— the first person in the room all three had independently decided they wanted— looked between them with growing amusement. The tie was broken. The competition was not. --- ## Chapter 5 — The Favorite For several seconds, nobody moved. Mandi stood on Elisa’s left. Dalia on her right. Arden in front of them. The realization sat between all four of them. All three women wanted the same person. Arden knew it. Worse— Arden was enjoying it. A lot. “This is flattering,” they said again. Mandi folded her arms. “Don’t get used to it.” Arden looked at her. “You’re the competitive one.” Elisa immediately laughed. Dalia removed the menthol lollipop from her mouth. “That conclusion took remarkably little time.” Mandi looked betrayed. “You have known me for thirty seconds.” “Long enough.” Elisa leaned against Mandi’s shoulder. “See?” “You are supposed to be on my side.” “I am.” “That sounded suspiciously false.” Dalia smiled. Arden looked between the three of them again. “So how does this work?” “It doesn’t,” Dalia said. “It absolutely does,” Mandi said at the same time. Elisa covered her face. Arden laughed. Dalia looked at Mandi. “There is no system.” “There is a score.” “That you invented.” “Elisa started it.” “I did not.” “You held up fingers.” “So did you.” “After you.” “Children,” Dalia said. Both turned. Dalia put the lollipop back between her lips. Mandi stared. “You are also participating.” “Yes.” “So you don’t get to be above this.” “I am not above it.” Dalia smiled around the lollipop. “I am simply more elegant about it.” Arden laughed again. Elisa looked at them all. Then at Arden. The humor softened. She had been talking with them before Mandi and Dalia returned. There had already been something there. Interest. Ease. The possibility had become clear before either lover rejoined her. Mandi noticed that too. Her expression changed slightly. Less competition. More recognition. She looked at Elisa. “You were here first.” Elisa blinked. “That sounds dangerously reasonable.” “I have moments.” Dalia nodded toward Arden. “And they have a vote.” “Thank you,” Arden said. Mandi smiled. “Do you want Elisa?” Elisa stared at her. “Mandi.” “What? Direct question.” Arden did not appear bothered. They looked at Elisa instead. “Yes.” Simple. Elisa’s expression changed. Not embarrassed. Pleased. Mandi immediately stepped back. “There.” Dalia smiled. “Civilization survives.” “For now.” Elisa looked at both of them. “You’re actually letting me go first?” Mandi raised an eyebrow. “Letting?” Elisa caught herself. “Bad word.” “Very.” Dalia touched Elisa’s waist. “You don’t need permission from us.” “I know.” “But you wanted the teasing.” Elisa smiled. “Yes.” Mandi stepped in and kissed her. Deep enough to make Arden’s eyebrows rise. When Mandi finally separated, she whispered: “Have fun.” Elisa smiled. Then Dalia pulled her in. Her kiss was slower. Longer. One hand sliding into Elisa’s hair. The other resting low at her waist. When they parted, Dalia’s whiskey-smoke voice was soft. “Enjoy yourself, darling.” Elisa looked slightly dazed. Arden smiled. “I see what kind of arrangement this is.” Mandi looked at them. “No, you don’t.” Dalia laughed. Elisa recovered enough to take Arden’s hand. “Private room?” Arden’s pale grey eyes stayed on hers. “Yes.” Mandi held up two fingers. Then remembered. “No. Wait.” Elisa laughed. “Optimistic?” Mandi pointed at her. “You corrupted that too.” “You taught me.” “Worst student ever.” “Best.” Elisa led Arden toward the hallway. Dalia watched them go. Then looked at Mandi. “You’re thinking.” “Always dangerous.” “Yes.” Mandi glanced after Elisa. Then toward Arden. “They’re really attractive.” Dalia smiled. “Yes.” “You too.” “Yes.” “Fuck.” Dalia put the lollipop back in her mouth. “This is going to take a while.” --- Elisa closed the guest-room door. This time she did not lean against it. No pause to settle her nerves. No moment of asking herself whether she truly meant to be here. She did. Arden noticed. “You look different.” “From ten minutes ago?” “Yes.” “How?” “Less nervous.” Elisa smiled. “I’ve had practice.” “Recently?” “Very.” Arden laughed. Elisa stepped closer. There was still curiosity. Plenty of it. But now there was confidence too. Not Mandi’s bright shamelessness. Not Dalia’s controlled intensity. Elisa’s own. She reached toward Arden’s face. Stopped. “May I?” “Yes.” Her fingers followed the silver patterning along one cheek. The texture changed subtly beneath her touch. Not fur. Not scales. Something engineered between the two. Smooth in one direction. Faint resistance in the other. Elisa smiled. “That’s incredible.” “You’re staring again.” “I was given permission.” “That you were.” Arden touched Elisa’s waist. Waited. Elisa moved closer. Permission returned. The first kiss was almost immediately deeper than her first one with Kellan had been. No cautious test. No uncertainty about whether she wanted this. Arden met her with equal confidence. Elisa’s hands moved to their shoulders. Arden’s settled around her waist. The kiss lasted. Broke. Returned. Elisa laughed quietly when one of Arden’s long ears shifted beneath her fingertips. “Sensitive?” “Yes.” “Good to know.” “That sounded dangerous.” “I’ve been told.” The next kiss answered that. Elisa guided Arden backward this time. Only one step. Then stopped. Arden looked at her. “That was very Dalia.” Elisa laughed. “Don’t tell her.” “I think she already knows.” “Probably.” Arden’s fingers traced the cream evening gown. Stopped near the hidden release. “Lena?” Elisa sighed dramatically. “You too.” “Everyone knows Lena.” “I’m beginning to think she owns half the city.” “Only the interesting half.” Elisa smiled. Then took Arden’s hand. Guided it precisely. “Here.” Arden’s eyebrows rose. “Again?” Elisa laughed. “Again.” “May I?” “Yes.” The fast-drop release gave way. This time Elisa was ready for it. She caught one side of the gown immediately. Arden caught the other. The structured cream fabric collapsed from immaculate corpo elegance into loose, smooth material in seconds. Elisa laughed. Still delighted by it. Still not over the engineering. “Second time and that is still absurd.” Arden looked at the fabric. Then at her. “Useful absurd.” “Very.” Elisa placed the gown over the chair. Carefully. Then turned. Arden had not moved. Waiting. That pleased her more than she expected. Elisa crossed the space herself. Kissed them. No hesitation. Arden’s hands came around her. Elisa leaned into the contact. The private room was easier than the first one had been. Not because Arden was ordinary. They were not. Because Elisa now understood that unusual bodies did not require unusual rules. Ask. Listen. Adjust. Want. The rest followed. Arden guided her toward the bed. Elisa stopped before reaching it. Arden stopped instantly. Elisa smiled. “My turn.” Arden’s pale eyes brightened. “Go ahead.” Elisa reversed them. A small change. A significant one. She moved Arden back until they reached the bed. Then looked at them. “Still?” “Yes.” “Good.” Elisa shifted onto the bed first. Arden followed only when she reached for them. Their proportions were easier than Kellan’s had been. Less negotiation. More immediate fit. Even so, Elisa adjusted once. Arden waited. Again. Better. She looked directly at them. The anticipation was different this time. Less fear. More hunger. Elisa nodded. “Yes.” The moment sex began was unmistakable. Her breath caught sharply. Her eyes closed. One hand tightened against Arden’s shoulder. Arden stopped. Elisa opened her eyes almost immediately. “Don’t stop.” “You sure?” “Yes.” A breath. Then, more confidently: “Yes.” Arden moved again. Slow. Measured. Elisa watched their face at first. Arden watched hers. The rhythm established itself carefully. Elisa adjusted to it. Then began moving with it. The difference was visible almost immediately. With Kellan, she had learned what she could enjoy. With Arden, she already knew she wanted to enjoy it. Her hesitation disappeared faster. She shifted closer. Arden responded. The rhythm strengthened. Elisa smiled once. Then stopped smiling because pleasure made the expression impossible to hold. Her breathing changed. Hands moved with more certainty. She drew Arden toward her. “More.” Arden changed pace. Elisa reacted immediately. A sharp sound. Then a laugh. “That.” Arden smiled. “You like that.” “Yes.” No coyness. No embarrassment. “Again.” They did. Elisa’s composure loosened quickly now. Her eyes closed more often. Breathing became uneven. One hand moved into the silver-dark texture along Arden’s back. The other braced against the bedding. Arden’s own control began to change too. Their breathing deepened. The easy smile disappeared. The rhythm was no longer something Arden was simply giving Elisa. They were caught in it as well. Elisa noticed. That realization did something to her. “You too?” Arden opened their eyes. “Yes.” Elisa’s smile returned. Briefly. Dangerously. “Good.” She pulled them closer. The rhythm tightened. Less space between movement. Less conversation. Elisa’s pleasure built visibly. The muscles through her shoulders drew taut. Her breath shortened. Arden watched. Adjusted. Stayed with the pace she was clearly asking for. Then Elisa’s whole body tightened. Her eyes squeezed shut. Her breath stopped. A second. Two. The tension held. Then broke. Elisa pulled Arden against her as the climax rolled through her, breath returning in a long fractured exhale. Arden slowed. But did not stop completely. Elisa stayed close. Eyes still closed. Breathing hard. Then she opened them. Arden was still visibly caught in the build. Not finished. Elisa saw it immediately. Arden’s breathing remained fast. Their shoulders tight. The control that had been there at the beginning was gone. Elisa smiled weakly. “Don’t stop because of me.” Arden looked at her. “You good?” “Yes.” “Sure?” Elisa nodded. Then pulled them closer again. “Finish.” That word changed Arden’s expression. The rhythm returned. Not as slow now. Elisa moved with them, still sensitive, still catching her breath, but fully present. Arden’s breathing became rougher. Their eyes closed. One hand tightened against Elisa’s side. The other braced hard against the bed. Arden’s progression was as clear as Elisa’s had been. The increasing tension. Movement losing some of its precision. Breath breaking. One moment of trying to hold the rhythm together. Then failing. Arden’s whole body tightened abruptly. Their head dropped. Breath stopped. The movement froze for one suspended second. Then the tension broke. A low, involuntary sound escaped them as the climax hit. Their grip tightened. Their whole frame shuddered once. Then again. Elisa held them through it. Not passive. Arms around them. One hand moving slowly along their back. Arden exhaled hard against her shoulder. The rhythm was gone now. Completely. Nothing left to chase. Only aftermath. Arden remained close. Elisa did too. Neither separated. Breathing gradually slowed in two different rhythms before settling closer together. Elisa’s eyes closed again. Arden’s head rested beside hers. For a long moment, nobody spoke. This stillness was different from her first encounter. Not relief after nerves. Shared exhaustion. Shared satisfaction. The simple fact that both had reached the same quiet place. Eventually Arden moved one hand lazily along Elisa’s side. “You good?” Elisa smiled without opening her eyes. “Very.” “You?” A soft laugh. “Very.” “Good.” Neither moved. Another minute passed. Then Arden said: “I think your lovers are going to be unbearable.” Elisa opened one eye. “Why?” “They both want me.” Elisa smiled. “Yes.” “And you went first.” “Yes.” “That matters to Mandi.” “Oh, definitely.” Arden laughed softly. “And Dalia?” Elisa thought about it. “Dalia will pretend it doesn’t.” “Does it?” “Yes.” Arden laughed again. Elisa closed her eye. “She’s just much prettier about it.” “That sounds accurate.” They stayed another moment. Then Elisa finally sat up. Slowly. Arden followed. The cream gown waited on the chair. Still perfect. Elisa looked at it. Then at Arden. “Lena really is dangerous.” “I told you.” Elisa stood. Reset the dress. The fabric returned to immaculate shape as though it had never left her. Arden watched. “That should be illegal.” “It probably is somewhere.” Elisa adjusted one side. Then looked at them. “Would you do this again?” Arden smiled. “With you?” “Yes.” “Yes.” No hesitation. Elisa leaned down and kissed them. Long. Warm. No longer hungry. Just affectionate. When she straightened, Arden smiled. “You really do love them, don’t you?” Elisa paused. Then smiled too. “Yes.” That answer came just as easily. --- Mandi saw Elisa return first. Of course she did. Dalia followed her gaze. The cream gown looked perfect. Elisa did not. Not quite. Hair slightly less controlled. Expression soft. Movement careful for the first few steps before she remembered the audience. Mandi’s eyes narrowed. Then she looked behind Elisa. Arden emerged several moments later. Also looking extremely satisfied. Dalia smiled. “Oh.” Mandi pointed. “No.” Elisa approached. “What?” “You went first.” “Yes.” “With them.” Elisa looked over her shoulder. Arden smiled from across the room. “Yes.” Mandi stared. Dalia looked at Elisa. “Good?” Elisa smiled. “Very.” Mandi folded her arms. “How very?” Elisa stepped close. Wrapped both arms around Mandi. Then kissed her. Long enough that Mandi’s offended posture dissolved completely. When Elisa finally separated, she whispered: “Very.” Mandi stared at her. Then: “That is cheating.” Dalia started laughing. Elisa turned toward her. “Your turn.” Dalia’s laughter stopped. Mandi looked at Dalia. Dalia looked at Arden. Arden was already watching her. Mandi smiled slowly. “Oh.” Dalia took the menthol lollipop from her mouth. “Do not.” Mandi held up two fingers. Dalia held up two. Then Elisa lifted two. Perfect tie. Again. Mandi looked around the triangle. Then toward Arden. “Oh, this is getting good.” Dalia sighed. But she was smiling. And Arden— now fully aware that they had somehow become the most desirable person in Elisa’s apartment— raised their glass toward all three women. The favorite had officially become a problem. --- ## Chapter 6 — Elegance Is Not Innocence Dalia looked at Arden. Arden looked back. Mandi looked between them. Elisa looked entirely too pleased with herself. Nobody moved. Then Mandi made a small circling gesture with one finger. “Well?” Dalia turned slowly. “Well what?” “You heard Elisa.” “Yes.” “Your turn.” Dalia put the menthol lollipop back between her lips. “I was unaware we had established rotational scheduling.” Arden laughed. Mandi pointed at them. “They want you.” Dalia looked at Arden. “Do you?” Arden held her gaze. “Yes.” There. Simple. Everything else became decoration. Dalia removed the lollipop again. “And you’re good after Elisa?” Elisa made an offended noise. Arden smiled. “Very.” Elisa immediately looked smug. Mandi groaned. “Do not encourage her.” “I didn’t say anything.” “Your face did.” Dalia laughed. Arden stepped closer. Not all the way. Enough to make the question physical instead of theoretical. Dalia studied them for a moment. Then smiled. “All right.” Mandi immediately held up three fingers. Dalia caught her wrist. “No.” “I’m predicting.” “You’re being annoying.” “Also true.” Elisa slid an arm around Dalia from behind. Dalia leaned back into her automatically. Elisa kissed the side of her neck. Then whispered: “They’re very good.” Dalia turned her head. “That is an extremely biased recommendation.” “Yes.” Another kiss. Longer. Then Elisa released her. Dalia looked at Mandi. Mandi opened both arms. “What?” “Nothing.” Dalia stepped into them anyway. Mandi grinned and hugged her hard. Very hard. Then kissed her. Bright. Immediate. Possessive only in affection, never ownership. The kiss lasted until Dalia finally pushed lightly at Mandi’s shoulder. “I thought this was supposed to be my encounter.” Mandi smiled against her mouth. “Pre-flight inspection.” “You are impossible.” “You love me.” “Yes.” Mandi kissed her once more. Then let go. Dalia turned toward Arden. Arden’s eyebrows had risen. Dalia smiled. “You were warned.” “I’m beginning to understand.” “No, you aren’t.” Elisa laughed. Arden held out one hand. Dalia looked at it. Then took it. “Private?” “Yes.” They walked toward the guest corridor. Behind them, Mandi called: “THREE.” Dalia did not turn. She simply raised one hand and extended a single finger. Elisa nearly folded in half laughing. --- Arden closed the door behind them. Dalia was already smiling. “They’re going to be unbearable when we go back.” “They already are.” “Fair.” Arden leaned against the door. Dalia stayed near the middle of the room. For a moment they simply looked at each other. This was different from Nessa. Different from Kaia. Different even from the tension they had shared in the main room. Partly because Arden had just been with Elisa. Dalia knew that. Arden knew she knew. Neither seemed interested in pretending otherwise. Dalia took the lollipop from her mouth and set it on the side table. “You liked her.” Arden smiled. “Very much.” “Good.” “No jealousy?” Dalia laughed softly. “No.” “Competition?” “That is different.” “So there is competition.” Dalia tilted her head. “Apparently.” “Mandi?” “Mostly.” “Mostly?” Dalia smiled. Arden laughed. “There it is.” “What?” “You want to win too.” Dalia stepped closer. “I prefer not to lose.” “That sounds much more elegant.” “I told you.” Arden reached toward one of the neon-pink dreadlocks. Stopped. Dalia nodded. They touched it. Slowly. Followed its length through their fingers. “I really like these.” “So does Elisa.” “Mandi?” “Mandi likes anything loud enough to offend respectable society.” “Reasonable.” Dalia laughed. Then Arden touched her face. Not the mesh experimentally. Not testing the technology. Simply touching Dalia. That distinction mattered. Dalia leaned into the hand. Arden noticed. The first kiss followed without another question. Not because consent had vanished. Because it had already been established and neither had changed direction. Slow. Warm. Arden knew something about Dalia now. Enough not to rush. Dalia knew something about Arden too. Enough to enjoy that they did not. The kiss deepened gradually. Dalia’s hands settled around Arden’s waist. Arden’s moved up her back. One hand eventually found the base of a neon-pink dreadlock. Dalia smiled into the kiss. “You really do like them.” “Yes.” “Useful.” “That sounded dangerous.” “Everything sounds dangerous tonight.” Arden laughed against her mouth. Dalia kissed them again. Longer. Then broke away herself. Arden waited. Dalia looked at the dark evening gown. Then at Arden. “You already know what Lena does.” “I have recent experience.” Dalia’s eyebrow rose. “Careful.” “Competition?” “Maybe.” Arden smiled. Dalia took their hand. Guided it to the concealed release. “Do it.” “You sure?” “Yes.” Arden activated the mechanism. The dark gown surrendered immediately. One moment it held Dalia in clean evening lines. The next the structure released and the wrinkle-free fabric slid away. Arden caught one side. Dalia caught the other. Dalia looked toward the chair. Then toward the floor. Then back. Arden laughed. “Lena threatened you too.” “Repeatedly.” Together they placed it over the chair. Properly. Dalia nodded. “See?” “Responsible.” “I am.” “You flipped me off in the hallway.” “That was also responsible.” Arden laughed. Then stopped. Their eyes moved back to Dalia. The humor became interest again. Dalia did not wait this time. She crossed the remaining space. Kissed Arden hard enough that they took one involuntary step backward. Arden recovered immediately. Hands around her. Pulling her close only after Dalia had already chosen the distance. Dalia enjoyed the response. Not being swept away. Being met. She broke the kiss. “Still?” “Yes.” Arden smiled. “Very.” “Good.” Dalia guided them toward the bed. Arden laughed softly. “You really do like leading.” “Sometimes.” “Elisa warned me.” “Did she?” “She said you were prettier about being competitive.” Dalia stopped. Stared. Then: “I am going to kill her.” Arden laughed. “Metaphorically?” “Probably.” “Good.” Dalia pushed lightly at their shoulder. Arden sat. Dalia remained standing for a moment. Looking down. Green reflective eyes. Pink dreadlocks. Expression calm enough that Arden did not immediately realize the decision had already been made. Then Dalia moved closer. Arden’s hands settled at her hips. Dalia looked down at them. No objection. She shifted. Found the position she wanted. Arden followed her cues. No size problem this time. No repeated failed geometry. But there was still negotiation. Angle. Distance. Comfort. Dalia changed one thing. Arden adjusted another. Then both stopped. Looked at each other. Dalia’s voice dropped lower. “Good?” “Yes.” “You?” Dalia smiled. “Yes.” The moment sex began was clear. Dalia’s breath caught. Not sharply. A controlled inhale that stopped halfway. Her eyes remained open. Fixed on Arden. Arden paused. Dalia did not need to be asked twice. She nodded. “Again.” They moved. Slowly. Dalia set the rhythm at first. Deliberate. Precise. Arden responded instead of fighting for control. That pleased her. There was no coy angle. It held Dalia’s expression as concentration gradually softened into pleasure. Held Arden’s reaction as they found Dalia’s rhythm and began adding their own movement to it. The two patterns met. Adjusted. Merged. Dalia exhaled slowly. “Better.” Arden smiled. “Bossy.” “You like it.” “Yes.” “Then keep up.” That was the wrong thing to say. Or exactly the right thing. Arden changed pace. Not dramatically. Enough. Dalia’s expression cracked. Just a little. Arden noticed immediately. “Oh.” Dalia narrowed her eyes. “Do not.” “That worked.” “Arden.” They did it again. Dalia’s breath broke. One hand tightened against their shoulder. Arden grinned. Dalia stared. Then laughed once. Low. Dangerous. “Fine.” She changed the balance between them. Arden’s smile disappeared. Their breath caught this time. Dalia saw it. Her own smile returned. “Oh.” Arden looked at her. “Don’t.” Dalia laughed. “Now I understand Mandi.” “That is a terrible development.” “Probably.” The competition inside the room became playful. Not score. Reaction. Who could make the other lose control first. Arden found Dalia’s rhythm again. Dalia answered. Intensity built by degrees. Both progressions remained equally clear. Dalia’s breathing deepened. Arden’s did too. Dalia’s neon-pink dreadlocks shifted around her shoulders with every movement. Arden’s pale eyes stopped carrying amusement. Focus now. Pleasure. Dalia kissed them. Arden answered harder. The rhythm tightened. Dalia’s precision began to slip. She stopped speaking. That was the first sign. The second was her eyes closing. The third— a small involuntary sound when Arden repeated the movement that had broken her composure earlier. Arden heard it. Did not change anything. Dalia’s hand tightened. Her breathing shortened. The build became unmistakable. Arden watched her. Dalia opened her eyes once. “Don’t change.” “I won’t.” The rhythm stayed exactly where it was. Dalia held together for several more seconds. Then stopped trying. Her head tipped back. Her whole body tightened. Breath caught. Held. One hand locked against Arden. The tension peaked— and broke. Dalia exhaled in a long, fractured sound as the climax rolled through her. Her control disappeared completely for those seconds. Eyes closed. Body drawn tight. Then releasing. Arden slowed but stayed with her. Dalia pulled them closer instead of letting them move away. Dalia’s breathing returned in uneven stages. Her forehead eventually dropped against Arden’s shoulder. For several seconds she simply stayed there. Then she laughed softly. Arden’s hand moved through the dreadlocks. “You good?” Dalia nodded against them. “Very.” Arden was breathing hard too. Still tense. Still unfinished. Dalia noticed before lifting her head. She could feel it. When she finally looked at Arden, their expression confirmed it. Dalia smiled. “No.” Arden blinked. “What?” “You’re not stopping there.” A laugh escaped them. “I wasn’t planning to.” “Good.” Dalia kissed them. Slower this time. Then shifted deliberately. Comfort first. Her own sensitivity acknowledged rather than ignored. Arden waited. Dalia looked at them. “Ready?” “Yes.” “You?” Dalia smiled. “Yes.” The rhythm resumed. Different now. Arden’s need more obvious. Dalia no longer chasing her own peak. Able to watch. To read. To respond. And she did. Arden’s breathing roughened quickly. Their movements became less controlled. Dalia kept contact. One hand behind their neck. The other at their side. Watching. When Arden changed pace without meaning to, Dalia adjusted with them. When their breath broke, she held them closer. “Good?” Arden nodded. “Yes.” “Then don’t think.” That landed. Arden closed their eyes. The last of the careful control slipped. Their shoulders tightened. Breathing became uneven. Movement lost its perfect rhythm and became something more instinctive. Dalia saw the build clearly. Her own expression softened. No teasing now. Just encouragement. “That’s it.” Arden inhaled sharply. Their whole body tightened. Dalia held them. The rhythm broke. For one suspended moment Arden froze completely— then climax hit. Their breath escaped in a low broken sound. Their grip tightened hard around Dalia. Their body shuddered once. Again. Then gradually released. Dalia stayed wrapped around them through all of it. Arden’s peak existed as clearly as hers had. Then nothing moved. The room became quiet except for breathing. Dalia remained close. Arden’s forehead rested against her shoulder. One hand still tangled loosely among the neon-pink dreadlocks. Dalia closed her eyes. The stillness stretched. Shared now. No one waiting for the other to finish. No next objective. Just both of them slowly coming down together. Eventually Arden laughed weakly. Dalia opened one eye. “What?” “You are competitive.” Dalia smiled. “Selective.” “That is bullshit.” Dalia laughed. “Maybe.” Arden lifted their head. “Three?” Dalia stared. Then laughed harder. “Oh, fuck you.” “I believe we covered that.” Dalia kissed them. Warm. Lingering. Then rested her forehead against theirs. “Good?” “Very.” “Me too.” They stayed another minute. Long enough to make getting up feel optional. Eventually Dalia sighed. “I have two idiots outside waiting to interrogate me.” “Two lovers.” “Same thing.” Arden smiled. “You love them.” “Very much.” “And Elisa?” Dalia’s expression softened immediately. “Yes.” “No hesitation.” “None.” Arden smiled. “Good.” --- Mandi had been pretending not to watch the hallway. Elisa had been pretending to believe her. Neither was convincing. Mandi checked the corridor again. Elisa took a drink. “You’re counting minutes now.” “No.” “You’ve looked four times.” “That sounds like you’re counting.” Elisa laughed. Mandi slid one arm around her waist and pulled her close. “Do you think Dalia likes them?” “Yes.” “That was fast.” “She liked Arden before I went with them.” Mandi considered that. “Fair.” Elisa looked at her. “You’re jealous.” “No.” “Not of me.” Mandi looked down. Elisa smiled. “You want your turn.” “Yes.” Immediate. Honest. Elisa laughed. “Good.” Mandi narrowed her eyes. “What does that mean?” “Nothing.” “You have become terrible at saying nothing.” “I learned from experts.” Mandi kissed her. Elisa answered. The kiss became long enough that neither noticed Dalia returning until a voice beside them said: “Should I come back?” They separated. Dalia stood there. Dress immaculate. Dreadlocks not. Menthol lollipop returned. Expression— deeply satisfied. Mandi stared. Elisa smiled. “Three.” Dalia looked at her. “You too?” Elisa held up three fingers for Dalia. Mandi immediately pointed. “That counts.” “Of course it counts.” Dalia sighed. “Fine.” She lifted three fingers. Then looked at Mandi. Mandi raised two. Elisa raised two. Dalia smiled. “Interesting.” Mandi narrowed her eyes. “Do not get smug.” “I am merely observing.” Elisa started laughing. Then Mandi looked over Dalia’s shoulder. Arden had returned to the main room. They caught Mandi’s eye. Smiled. Mandi went very still. Dalia saw it. Then looked at Elisa. Elisa saw it too. Mandi slowly handed her drink to Elisa. Dalia’s eyebrows rose. “Oh, no.” Mandi adjusted the collar at her throat. “Oh, yes.” Elisa laughed. “Going somewhere?” Mandi looked at Arden. Arden looked back. “Apparently.” Dalia put the lollipop between her lips. “You realize this will put you at three too.” Mandi turned. “That is entirely incidental.” Both women stared at her. Mandi smiled. “Mostly.” Then she walked toward Arden. Dalia watched her go. Elisa leaned against her. “So much for elegance.” Dalia put one arm around Elisa. “I never claimed innocence.” Elisa smiled. “No.” Across the room, Arden greeted Mandi with a smile that made the outcome very easy to predict. Dalia lifted her drink. “Three, two, two.” Elisa looked at her. “You’re enjoying this.” “Far too much.” Elisa laughed. And the evening moved into its next round. --- ## Chapter 7 — Mandi’s Turn Arden saw Mandi coming. That was obvious. The pale grey eyes settled on her before she had crossed half the room. Then came the smile. Mandi slowed. Not because she was uncertain. Because she liked making an entrance. Arden laughed. “You really are competitive.” Mandi stopped in front of them. “Everyone keeps saying that.” “Because it’s true.” “Unproven.” Arden glanced past her. Dalia stood across the room with one arm around Elisa. Both were watching. Both looked entertained. Arden looked back at Mandi. “They’re counting.” Mandi folded her arms. “They are terrible people.” “They love you.” “That is how they get away with it.” Arden smiled. “And you want your turn.” Mandi’s black eyes narrowed. “Yes.” No joke. No deflection. That seemed to please Arden. “Good.” Mandi blinked. “That easy?” “You already know I wanted Elisa.” “Yes.” “You already know I wanted Dalia.” “Yes.” Arden stepped closer. “And you’ve been staring at me since you arrived.” Mandi stared. “I have been observing.” “Of course.” “You sound like Dalia.” “That sounds flattering.” “It probably is.” Arden’s smile widened. Mandi tried to hold the offended expression. Failed. Then Arden reached toward the collar at her throat. Stopped before touching. Mandi watched the hand. Then looked up. “Yes.” Arden touched it lightly. Not pulling. Just tracing one edge. “Very you.” “You don’t know me.” “I know enough.” “Dangerous confidence.” “Coming from you?” Mandi laughed. Fine. They were going to be like that. Excellent. She stepped closer. Arden did too. The first kiss happened without ceremony. No cautious introduction. They had already spent most of the evening circling each other through other people. Mandi had watched Elisa disappear with Arden. Then Dalia. Had watched both return. Had listened to exactly enough of their expressions afterward to know they had enjoyed themselves. Now— her turn. The kiss deepened almost immediately. Mandi put both hands around Arden’s neck. Arden’s hands settled at her waist. Mandi pulled closer. Arden followed. Then stopped. Mandi noticed. Opened her eyes. “What?” “Checking.” Mandi smiled. “Still yes.” “Good.” She kissed them again. Harder. Arden laughed into it. Mandi broke away. “What?” “You really do hate being third.” “I am not third.” “You are literally third.” “That is chronology.” “That is what third means.” Mandi stared. Arden smiled. “Oh, I like you.” “Finally someone with judgment.” Across the room Elisa laughed. Mandi turned her head. “You are eavesdropping.” Elisa called back: “You’re loud.” Dalia lifted her drink. “Also true.” Mandi looked back at Arden. “Private room.” Arden raised an eyebrow. “Was that a question?” Mandi sighed dramatically. “Would you like to come to a private room with me?” “Yes.” “Good.” She took Arden’s hand. Then deliberately looked toward Elisa and Dalia. Held up three fingers. Dalia closed her eyes. Elisa nearly spilled her drink laughing. Arden followed Mandi into the hallway. --- The door closed. Mandi turned. Arden did not immediately move toward her. Neither did she. For several seconds they simply stood there. Looking. The energy outside had been playful. Competitive. Public. Here— different. Mandi smiled first. “So.” “So.” “You’ve already had both of them.” “Yes.” Mandi narrowed her eyes. “Favorite?” Arden laughed. “No.” “Coward.” “Smart.” “Same thing sometimes.” “They’re different.” Mandi knew that. She was asking anyway. “How?” Arden considered it. “Elisa surprised me.” Mandi smiled. “She does that.” “Dalia controls a room even when the room is only one person.” Mandi laughed. “That is extremely Dalia.” “And you—” Arden stopped. Mandi waited. “Yes?” “I haven’t figured you out yet.” That caught her. Mandi’s smile changed. Not gone. Sharper. Interested. “Good answer.” “I thought you’d like it.” “I do.” She approached. No more distance. Mandi touched the silver-dark patterning along Arden’s shoulder. Her fingers moved slowly. Arden watched her. “What are you thinking?” “That I hate that they got here first.” Arden laughed. Mandi smiled. “And that I really don’t care.” “That sounds contradictory.” “It isn’t.” She kissed Arden. Slower this time. Not proving anything. Just learning. That changed the whole encounter. The competition remained outside the room. Inside, Mandi wanted to know what Elisa and Dalia had found so compelling. Not copy them. Not beat them. Find her own answer. Arden’s hand moved into her neon-orange hair. Mandi made a small sound of approval. “Good?” “Yes.” “Sensitive?” “Not enough to be useful.” “Shame.” Mandi laughed. Then Arden’s fingers moved to the side of her dress. Found the hidden construction almost immediately. Mandi stared. “You too?” “I’ve had practice tonight.” “Right.” That answer did something to her. Not jealousy. Something warmer. The reminder that Elisa and Dalia had been here. Wanted the same person. Been wanted back. And now Arden wanted her too. Mandi smiled. “Go ahead.” Arden paused. “Fast-drop?” “Yes.” “May I?” “Yes.” One movement. The first release disengaged. A second followed. The dress surrendered so quickly that Mandi laughed as it slid away. Arden caught one section. Mandi caught the other. They looked at it. Mandi looked toward the chair. Then deliberately threw the dress. It landed perfectly. She stared. Arden stared. Mandi frowned. “That is disappointing.” “You wanted to miss?” “Yes.” “Why?” “Long story.” Arden laughed. Mandi pointed at the chair. “Stay.” “The dress?” “Yes.” “I’m not sure it understands.” “It knows what it did.” Arden laughed harder. Then Mandi stepped into them again. The laughter disappeared into another kiss. Hands moved. Bodies closed the gap. Arden guided Mandi backward. Mandi allowed it. Three steps. Then she stopped. Arden stopped too. Mandi smiled. “My turn.” Arden’s pale eyes brightened. “There it is.” She reversed them. Not forcefully. Decisively. Arden went with her. Mandi guided them toward the bed. When Arden reached it, Mandi stopped. Looked at them. “Still?” “Yes.” “Very?” “Yes.” “Good.” Arden sat. Mandi moved closer. The difference in size was manageable. Enough to make positioning interesting. Not enough to turn it into engineering. She adjusted once. Arden followed. Again. Mandi frowned. “Almost.” Arden smiled. “Perfectionist?” “No.” “You absolutely are.” “Shut up.” She shifted again. This time her expression changed. There. Mandi looked directly at Arden. “Good?” “Yes.” “You?” A slow smile. “Yes.” The moment sex began was unmistakable. Mandi’s breath caught. Not enough to stop her. Enough to erase the smile. Her fingers tightened against Arden’s shoulders. Arden paused immediately. Mandi inhaled. Exhaled. Then nodded. “Again.” The rhythm started slowly. Mandi watched Arden. Arden watched her. Each movement clear enough that neither had to guess what the other wanted. Mandi adjusted first. Arden followed. The rhythm improved. Mandi’s head tipped slightly. “Better.” “Bossy.” “You’ve met Dalia.” “I have.” “I learned from the best.” Arden laughed. Then changed the rhythm. Mandi’s breath broke. Her eyes snapped open. Arden smiled. “Oh.” Mandi stared. “Do not.” “You liked that.” “You sound smug.” “I am.” Mandi pulled them closer. “Again.” Arden did. The second time Mandi stopped caring about the smugness. The rhythm built. Slow curiosity becoming something much less controlled. Mandi moved with Arden rather than merely letting Arden set the pace. A negotiation through motion. One adjusted. The other answered. Arden’s breathing changed first. Mandi noticed. Smiled. “You too.” Arden laughed breathlessly. “Yes.” “Good.” That word came out lower. Hungrier. Mandi shifted. Arden reacted immediately. Their pale eyes closed for half a second. Mandi saw it. “Oh.” “Don’t.” “Now I understand Dalia.” “That is exactly what she said.” Mandi froze. Then started laughing. “She said that?” “Yes.” “Bitch.” “Affectionately?” “Always.” The laughter disappeared quickly. Arden moved again. Mandi’s expression broke. No comeback. No joke. Just a sharp breath. Then another. Mandi’s physical progression remained unmistakable. The deliberate positioning that had become instinctive. The rhythm strengthening. Her hand tightening against Arden. Arden checking her face when something changed. Mandi answering by pulling closer. The point where playful competition stopped mattering. Her breathing shortened. Orange hair shifting across her face. Black eyes closing. One hand braced hard against the bed. Arden changed pace. Mandi made a sound that ended any remaining argument about whether the change worked. “Again.” Arden stayed with it. Mandi’s body tightened gradually. Not sudden. Building. Breath becoming shorter. Movement becoming less precise. Her control slipping by degrees. Then she stopped speaking completely. Arden watched her. Held the rhythm. Did not improvise now. Mandi’s eyes squeezed shut. Her body went taut. Breath stopped. One suspended beat. Then release. Mandi pulled Arden close as climax hit, her breath returning in a sharp fractured exhale. Her whole body shuddered with it. Once. Again. The tension broke in waves rather than all at once. Arden slowed. Stayed close. Mandi kept one arm locked around them. No separation. No immediate joke. Mandi’s breathing rough. Then gradually slower. Her hand loosening. Her forehead dropping against Arden’s shoulder. Several seconds passed. Then Mandi opened one eye. Arden was still breathing hard. Still tense. Not done. Mandi noticed immediately. A slow smile appeared. “Oh, no.” Arden laughed weakly. “What?” “You don’t get to stop.” “I wasn’t planning to.” “Good.” Mandi kissed them. Not aggressively. Warm. Encouraging. Then adjusted herself. Arden waited. Mandi took a breath. Another. “Okay.” “You sure?” “Yes.” “Sensitive?” “Very.” “Want slow?” “For now.” Arden nodded. The rhythm returned. Controlled at first. Mandi reacted to the first movement with a sharp breath but did not pull away. Arden watched her. She nodded. “Keep going.” They did. Mandi stayed present. Not chasing another climax. Watching Arden now. Feeling the way their control changed. The way breath became rougher. The way each movement lost a little precision. Mandi smiled. “There.” Arden opened their eyes. “What?” “You’re close.” Arden laughed once. “Observant.” “Professional.” “Competitive.” “Shut up.” Arden’s breath broke. Mandi stopped teasing. Her hands came around them. Held close. “Don’t slow down.” Arden tried not to. Failed at maintaining perfect rhythm. That was the point. Arden’s build became equally unmistakable. Shoulders tightening. Breathing breaking. One hand bracing against the bed. The other gripping Mandi. Movement becoming increasingly instinctive. Mandi adjusted with them instead of forcing consistency. “Good?” “Yes.” “Still?” “Yes.” “Then go.” Arden closed their eyes. The last of the control went. Their whole body tightened. Movement stopped for one suspended instant. Then climax hit. A low broken sound escaped them. Their grip tightened hard around Mandi. Their body shuddered. Once. Again. Mandi held them through it. One hand against the back of Arden’s neck. The other moving slowly along their side. Arden exhaled against her. Long. Unsteady. Then finally relaxed. Nothing moved. Neither separated. Two bodies stayed close. Two breathing patterns gradually slowed. Mandi’s eyes closed again. Arden rested their forehead against hers. Stillness. Not a beat inserted because the rules demanded one. Actual rest. Actual shared aftermath. A long enough pause for the intensity to become something softer. Eventually Arden smiled. Mandi felt it before opening her eyes. “What?” “I understand why they love you.” That landed harder than anything physical had. Mandi’s expression softened completely. “Oh.” Arden touched one strand of neon-orange hair. “No joke?” “Give me a second.” Arden laughed. Mandi kissed them. Gentle this time. Then whispered: “They’re easy to love too.” “I noticed.” Mandi smiled. They stayed close another minute. Eventually Arden asked: “Three?” Mandi groaned. “You have all become terrible.” “Is that a yes?” Mandi held up three fingers between them. Arden laughed. “Yes.” “Happy?” “Extremely.” “Good.” Mandi looked toward the chair. Her dress was still sitting perfectly where she had thrown it. She frowned. “I still hate that.” --- Elisa and Dalia were waiting. Not obviously. Which made it more obvious. Mandi emerged from the hallway. Dress perfect. Hair absolutely not. Collar slightly off-center. Movement careful for precisely four steps. Then she noticed both women looking at her. Straightened immediately. Elisa smiled. Dalia raised one eyebrow. Mandi held up three fingers. Dalia raised hers. Three. Elisa raised two. Mandi smiled. “Interesting.” Elisa narrowed her eyes. “Do not.” “I said nothing.” “You made the face.” Dalia laughed. “Now you know how it feels.” Mandi walked directly to Elisa. Wrapped both arms around her. Elisa laughed as she was pulled close. Then Mandi kissed her. Long. Thorough. Enough that Dalia eventually said: “She was only behind by one.” Mandi did not stop. Elisa certainly did not. When they finally separated, Elisa looked slightly breathless. Mandi smiled. “Your turn.” Elisa blinked. “With who?” Mandi looked around the room. “So many options.” Dalia stepped close and adjusted Mandi’s collar. Then smoothed one unruly section of neon-orange hair. “Good?” Mandi’s expression softened. “Very.” “Arden?” “Very.” Elisa grinned. “Told you.” Mandi pointed at her. “No smugness.” “Too late.” Dalia kissed Mandi’s temple. Then looked toward Arden, who had reappeared farther across the room. Arden caught her eye. Lifted three fingers. Dalia laughed. Mandi turned. Saw it. “Oh, fuck all of you.” Elisa nearly folded over. The three of them stood together again. Mandi three. Dalia three. Elisa two. And for the first time all evening— Elisa was behind. She looked at both lovers. Then slowly smiled. Dalia recognized it first. “Oh, no.” Mandi followed her gaze. Elisa’s eyes had moved across the room. Stopped. On someone new. Mandi grinned. “There she goes.” Dalia sighed. “The competition has learned to hunt.” Elisa took one last sip of her drink. Then handed the glass to Mandi. “Hold this.” Mandi stared at it. Then at Elisa. “Oh, I like where this is going.” Elisa walked away. Dalia watched her. “Three, three, two.” Mandi smiled. “Not for long.” And judging by the way Elisa was approaching her next choice— probably not. --- ## Chapter 8 — Catching Up Elisa crossed the room without looking back. That lasted perhaps six steps. Then she glanced over one shoulder. Mandi was still holding her drink. Dalia stood beside her. Both were watching. Elisa smiled. Mandi lifted the glass in salute. Dalia simply raised one eyebrow. That was somehow worse. Elisa turned forward again. Three. Three. Two. She had not intended to care. That was becoming increasingly difficult to defend. The woman she was approaching had caught her attention earlier. Not because the sculpt was the largest in the room. It was not. Not because it was the most exotic. Also not. The attraction came from something harder to define. Confidence. The sculpt was avian-inspired without abandoning a mostly human silhouette. Dark feathers followed the shoulders, upper arms and sides of the face, shifting from deep charcoal to a faint iridescent sheen under the apartment lights. The eyes remained human. Dark blue. Sharp. Alert. A narrow line of feathering continued down the spine, disappearing beneath a black evening outfit that looked expensive enough to belong comfortably among Elisa’s friends. Her partner stood beside her. Another woman. Human-presenting. Short silver hair. Easy smile. They both saw Elisa coming. The avian sculpt smiled first. “Finally.” Elisa stopped. “That sounds familiar.” “You’ve walked past us three times.” Elisa blinked. “I have?” The partner laughed. “Four.” Elisa looked toward Mandi and Dalia. Mandi held up four fingers. Elisa stared. “You are not helping.” Mandi grinned. The avian woman laughed. “I’m Sable.” Her partner offered a hand. “Mira.” Elisa took it. “Elisa.” Sable smiled. “We know.” “Yes. Apparently hosting means I no longer need introductions.” “Efficient.” Elisa looked at the sculpt more closely. Not staring now. Looking. Sable noticed. “You can ask.” Elisa smiled. “How much is tactile?” “Most of it.” “The feathers?” “Yes.” “Different sensation?” “Very.” Mira looked at Sable. “You like that question.” “I like people who ask before grabbing.” Elisa nodded. “Reasonable.” She lifted one hand. Stopped. “May I?” Sable stepped closer and angled one shoulder toward her. “Yes.” Elisa touched the feathering carefully. It was softer than she expected. Not soft like fur. Different. Fine structure. Smooth one way. More resistant the other. Her fingers changed direction. Sable’s breath changed with it. Elisa noticed immediately. “Oh.” Sable’s eyes narrowed. “Useful information?” “Very.” Mira laughed. “That was quick.” Elisa looked at her. “You’re her partner?” “Yes.” “Long-term?” “Six years.” “And the sculpt?” “Her idea.” Sable smiled. “Mira paid for half.” Elisa looked between them. “You planned it together.” “Yes.” That mattered. Again. The body was unusual. The relationship underneath it was not. Elisa relaxed. Conversation became easier. They talked about the sculpt. Then stopped talking about it. Music. Travel. Corpo architecture. Mira had strong opinions about rooftop gardens. Sable had stronger opinions about architects who designed terraces no one actually wanted to use. Elisa liked both of them immediately. Then Sable moved closer. Not accidentally. Elisa stayed. Mira noticed. Smiled. “Want me to circulate?” Sable looked at her. “You good?” “Very.” They kissed. Short. Familiar. Mira looked at Elisa. “Have fun.” Elisa smiled. “I’m planning to.” Mira laughed and walked away. Sable watched her go. Then looked back. “You really are catching up.” Elisa froze. “What?” Sable nodded toward the room. “Mandi and Dalia are at three.” Elisa stared. “How does everybody know?” “Because all three of you keep holding up fingers.” Elisa closed her eyes. “Fair.” Sable stepped closer. “Do you care?” Elisa opened them. She thought about it. Then smiled. “More than I expected.” “Good.” “Why good?” “Because now I get to see what you’re like when you’re competitive.” Elisa laughed. “Oh, no.” “Yes.” “I’ve been warned about this.” “Mandi?” “Mostly.” Sable smiled. “Private room?” Elisa did not hesitate. “Yes.” --- Mandi watched them leave. Then looked at Dalia. “Three.” Dalia took the drink from her hand. “That is Elisa’s.” “I know.” “You’ve nearly finished it.” Mandi looked down. “Oh.” Dalia sighed. Mandi looked toward the hallway. “She caught up.” “Not yet.” “She will.” “You sound proud.” Mandi smiled. “I am.” Dalia looked at her. That was the real thing underneath the nonsense. Competition, yes. But also this. Watching Elisa discover that wanting could be fun without becoming dangerous. That being bold did not mean losing judgment. That saying yes did not remove the right to say no later. That pleasure could belong to her because she chose it. Dalia leaned against Mandi. “She’s changed.” Mandi nodded. “A lot.” “Still Elisa.” “More Elisa.” Dalia smiled. “Yes.” Then Mandi looked toward the gorilla. Dalia followed her gaze. “No.” “What?” “Not yet.” Mandi looked offended. “I wasn’t going.” “You were thinking.” “I always think.” “That is the problem.” Mandi grinned. --- Sable closed the guest-room door. Elisa turned toward her. The confidence from the main room followed her in. No nervous pause this time. No need to stand against the door and breathe. She knew why she was here. So did Sable. Elisa approached first. Touched the feathers along Sable’s shoulder again. “Still?” “Yes.” She moved higher. Slower. Sable’s eyes half closed. Elisa smiled. “You really like that.” “Yes.” “Good.” Sable caught her hand gently. Not stopping. Redirecting. She kissed Elisa’s palm. Then her wrist. Elisa laughed softly. “That was unfair.” “Useful?” “Very.” The first kiss followed. Immediate. Warm. Sable’s hands settled at Elisa’s waist. Elisa’s moved around her shoulders. The feathers brushed against her fingers. Different texture every time she shifted. The kiss deepened. Stopped. Sable looked at her. “Still good?” “Yes.” “Want slower?” “No.” That answer surprised both of them. Elisa smiled. “Apparently not.” Sable laughed. Then kissed her again. Harder. Elisa met her fully. No careful trial. No learning whether she liked being wanted. She knew. She wanted back. Sable’s fingers found the cream evening gown. Paused. Elisa laughed before the question came. “Fast-drop.” “Lena?” “Everyone knows.” Sable smiled. “May I?” Elisa took her hand. Guided it to the hidden release. “Yes.” The mechanism gave way. By now Elisa knew exactly how the dress moved. She caught one side before it fell. Sable caught the other. Together they lifted it clear. Elisa placed it across the chair. Perfectly. Sable stared. “You really do that every time?” “Lena threatened us.” “Us?” “Mandi and Dalia too.” Sable laughed. “That explains why Mandi’s was on the floor earlier.” Elisa stared. “You saw that?” “Everybody saw Mandi carrying it back out later.” Elisa covered her face. “Oh, she is never hearing the end of that.” Sable laughed. Elisa lowered her hands. Then stopped laughing. The expression between them changed. Sable stepped closer. Elisa did too. The kiss returned. No dress now. No host. No score. At least not for the next few minutes. Sable guided Elisa toward the bed. Elisa followed. Then stopped before sitting. Sable stopped too. Elisa looked at her. “Still yes.” Sable smiled. “Good.” Elisa shifted onto the bed. Sable joined her only when Elisa reached out. Positioning came more easily now. Experience was beginning to matter. Elisa knew what needed adjusting before discomfort forced the issue. She changed one angle. Sable moved with her. Another. Better. They looked at each other. Elisa smiled. “Yes.” The transition into sex was clear. Elisa’s breath caught immediately. Her fingers tightened against Sable’s shoulders. Sable stopped. Elisa shook her head. “Wait.” Sable waited. One breath. Another. Elisa’s shoulders loosened. She looked up. “Again.” Sable moved. Slowly. Elisa followed. The first rhythm established itself with less uncertainty than before. She knew what she was asking for now. More importantly— she knew how to ask. Sable adjusted. Elisa reacted. A smile. Then a sharper breath. “That.” Sable watched her. “This?” Again. Elisa’s eyes closed. “Yes.” The rhythm grew. Elisa moved with it. Elisa’s progression stayed clear in the way her expression gradually lost its careful control. The way she changed position instead of silently accepting what did not work. The way Sable watched her every time the rhythm shifted. The way consent remained active even after words became sparse. Sable’s breathing changed too. Elisa heard it. Opened her eyes. “You?” Sable smiled. “Yes.” That pleased Elisa. A lot. She pulled Sable closer. The rhythm tightened. More mutual now. Sable’s composure began to slip. Elisa noticed and laughed softly. “Competitive?” Sable breathed out. “Maybe.” “Oh, good.” Then Sable changed pace. Elisa stopped laughing. A sharp sound escaped her. Sable paused. Elisa immediately shook her head. “No.” “You sure?” “Yes.” She drew her closer. “Again.” Sable repeated it. Elisa’s breathing broke. Her eyes squeezed shut. The build became unmistakable. Shoulders drawing tight. Hands gripping. Rhythm becoming less conversational and more instinctive. Sable stayed with what Elisa had clearly chosen. Did not improvise now. Elisa’s breath shortened. One hand braced against the bed. The other tightened against Sable. Then her whole body went taut. A suspended beat. Breath caught. Held. Then release. Elisa pulled Sable close as climax broke through her, the first exhale coming out fractured and shaking. Her body tightened again in a second wave. Then slowly began to release. Sable stayed. Slowed. Held close. Elisa’s eyes remained closed. Breathing rough. Gradually settling. Then she opened them. Sable was still tense. Still caught in the build. Not finished. Elisa noticed immediately. Her expression changed. Not exhausted amusement. Intent. “Don’t stop.” Sable looked at her. “You good?” “Yes.” “Still?” “Yes.” Elisa took a breath. Then smiled. “Your turn.” Sable laughed once. Then the rhythm resumed. Slower at first. Elisa still sensitive. Still recovering. She adjusted. Sable waited. Elisa nodded. “Good.” They continued. This time Elisa watched. Sable’s breathing deepened. The feathering along her shoulders shifted with every movement. Her control began to fray. Elisa’s hands stayed with her. One against her back. One at her shoulder. Not directing now. Supporting. Sable changed rhythm unintentionally. Elisa followed. “Don’t fight it.” Sable opened her eyes. Elisa smiled. “I’m fine.” That freed something. Sable stopped trying to keep everything perfectly controlled. The rhythm became rougher. Less even. More instinctive. Breathing breaking. Shoulders tightening. Hands gripping Elisa. The obvious effort to hold the build together— then the moment it became impossible. Sable’s eyes closed. Her whole frame tightened. Movement stopped. For one suspended second she held completely still. Then climax hit. A low broken sound escaped her. Her grip tightened around Elisa. Her body shuddered once. Again. Elisa held her close. Sable exhaled sharply against her shoulder. The tension released gradually. Not all at once. Then the rhythm was gone. Nothing left to pursue. Only stillness. Sable remained close. Elisa wrapped both arms around her. Neither moved. Two breathing patterns slowing. Sable’s feathered shoulder against Elisa’s cheek. Elisa’s eyes closed. For a long moment the score did not exist. Neither did the party. Eventually Sable laughed weakly. Elisa smiled without opening her eyes. “What?” “You really were catching up.” Elisa opened one eye. “That was not why.” “Not entirely.” Elisa considered that. Then smiled. “Fair.” Sable touched her hair. “You good?” “Very.” “You?” “Very.” “Good.” They remained there another minute. Maybe two. Long enough for leaving immediately to feel ridiculous. Eventually Elisa sat up. Sable followed. The cream gown waited on the chair. Perfect. Of course. Elisa looked at it. Then at Sable. “Three.” Sable laughed. “You’re actually going to announce it?” “No.” A pause. “Probably.” --- Elisa made it six steps into the main room. Mandi saw her. Dalia saw her. Both raised three fingers simultaneously. Elisa stopped. Stared. Then slowly raised three of her own. Mandi shouted: “YES.” Several nearby guests laughed. Dalia covered her face. “Subtle.” “I’m celebrating.” Elisa walked toward them. Her gown looked perfect. Her hair did not. Her movement was careful enough that Mandi noticed immediately. Naturally. Mandi smiled. Elisa pointed at her. “Not one word.” “I said nothing.” “Your entire body said something.” Dalia laughed. Elisa stepped into her arms first. Dalia hugged her close. Then kissed her. Slow. Long. Warm. When they separated, Dalia looked directly at her. “Good?” Elisa smiled. “Very.” Mandi opened her arms. “My turn.” Elisa laughed and moved into them. Mandi hugged her with shameless enthusiasm, hands low around Elisa’s waist. Then kissed her hard enough that Elisa immediately forgot she had intended to tease her. When they finally broke apart, Mandi smiled. “Three.” Elisa smiled back. “Three.” Dalia raised hers. “Three.” Perfect tie. Again. Mandi looked toward the room. Then toward Dalia. Then Elisa. “Oh, this is getting ridiculous.” Elisa leaned against her. “You started it.” “I did not.” Dalia put the lollipop back into her mouth. “You absolutely did.” Mandi looked offended. Then her eyes moved. Across the room. The gorilla. Still there. Still enormous. Still apparently enjoying the party. Still not yet encountered. Mandi went quiet. Dalia saw it immediately. “No.” Elisa followed the gaze. Then smiled. “Oh, absolutely yes.” Dalia turned toward her. “Do not encourage her.” Elisa’s smile widened. “She needs to break the tie somehow.” Mandi slowly looked at Elisa. Then at Dalia. Then back toward the gorilla. The grin appeared. Dalia closed her eyes. “Oh, fuck.” Mandi handed Elisa her drink. Elisa accepted it. “Four?” Mandi smiled. “Four.” And started walking. --- ## Chapter 9 — The Gorilla The gorilla saw Mandi coming. There was no mistaking that. He had been near the terrace for most of the evening, moving between conversations with the easy confidence of someone entirely comfortable in a body that made almost everyone else in the room look small. Mandi— looked absurdly small. Even before she reached him. Especially before she reached him. Dalia watched from across the room. Elisa stood beside her holding Mandi’s abandoned drink. Neither said anything. Then Elisa whispered: “She really is doing it.” Dalia sighed. “Yes.” “You sound worried.” “I know her.” “That is not the same thing.” “It frequently is.” Elisa smiled. Mandi stopped in front of the gorilla. Looked up. And up. The gorilla smiled. Human. Completely human. Voice too. “Hi.” Mandi blinked. Then laughed. “Okay, that somehow makes this worse.” His handler—another man standing beside him—laughed. The gorilla raised one eyebrow. “Worse?” “More interesting.” “Better answer.” Mandi held out one hand. “Mandi.” The gorilla took it carefully. His hand swallowed hers. Almost completely. Mandi looked down. Then up again. “Oh, this is ridiculous.” “Still here.” “Very.” The handler smiled. “I’m Corin.” Mandi glanced at him. “Partner?” “Friend. Sometimes handler.” The gorilla added: “Mostly when the world assumes I need one.” Mandi smiled immediately. “Good.” That mattered. No proxy decision-maker. No speaking through somebody else. No ambiguity about who was in the sculpt. “What do I call you?” she asked. “Bram.” Mandi smiled. “Bram.” He nodded. She looked at the sculpt properly now. Not gawking. Looking. The work was astonishing. Massive shoulders. Heavy arms. Dark body hair. Full facial transformation without losing expression. The eyes remained unmistakably human. Intelligent. Amused. Interested. Mandi lifted one hand. Stopped. “May I?” Bram nodded. “Yes.” She touched the fur along his forearm first. Dense. Coarser than the wolfdog. Different again. Mandi smiled. “You people are going to ruin normal skin for me.” Bram laughed. “That sounds like a you problem.” “It is.” She moved higher. Slowly. His shoulder. Then the side of his face. The sculpt made the movement unfamiliar. The person inside it did not. That distinction mattered more every time. Bram leaned slightly into her hand. Mandi noticed. Her smile changed. Less performative. More interested. “You like that.” “Yes.” “Useful.” “That word has been dangerous all night.” “So I’ve been told.” Corin looked between them. “I’m going to circulate.” Bram looked at him. “You good?” “Very.” Then Corin looked at Mandi. “You good?” Mandi smiled. “Extremely.” “Excellent.” He left. No ceremony. No permission granted on anyone else’s behalf. Just trust. Mandi looked back at Bram. Then at the distance between them. Then up. “You know, from down here this is genuinely absurd.” Bram smiled. “You knew how tall I was.” “I knew intellectually.” “And now?” “Now I’m conducting field research.” He laughed. Mandi stepped closer. Bram did not. Not yet. He waited. Mandi liked that. She put both hands against his chest. Warmth. Weight. Strength. Not applied. Just there. Her eyes brightened. “Oh.” Bram’s expression softened. “That good?” “That interesting.” “Different answer.” “Better one.” Mandi looked at him. Then: “Private?” Bram held her gaze. “Yes.” Mandi smiled. Then turned. Dalia and Elisa were both watching. Of course. Mandi held up four fingers. Elisa nearly dropped the drink. Dalia covered her face. Bram looked past Mandi. “They’re counting?” Mandi turned back. “No.” A pause. “Yes.” Bram laughed. “You’re competitive.” “Apparently this is common knowledge.” “It is now.” Mandi took his hand. Or rather— put her hand into his. The difference was ridiculous enough that she laughed again. “Come on.” --- The guest room looked smaller with Bram inside it. Not actually smaller. Just recalibrated. Mandi closed the door. Then turned. Bram stood several steps away. Waited. She stared. He raised an eyebrow. “What?” “I’m thinking.” “Dangerous?” “Usually.” “About?” “Geometry.” Bram laughed. “That came up with the wolfdog too, didn’t it?” Mandi froze. “You people talk.” “It’s a party.” “Traitors.” Bram smiled. Mandi approached. Stopped close. Very close. Bram looked down. Mandi looked up. The height difference was almost comical. She touched his chest again. Then his shoulder. Then leaned in. Bram lowered himself for the kiss. Not enough. Mandi laughed against him. “No.” “What?” “Lower.” He crouched more. Better. Mandi put both hands around his face. Then kissed him properly. Slow at first. Curious. Bram answered carefully. The first surprise was how gentle he was. Not timid. Controlled. Mandi noticed immediately. She kissed him again. Longer. Bram’s hands settled around her waist. Even there— careful. Mandi broke the kiss. “Still good?” “Yes.” “You?” “Yes.” “Very?” Bram smiled. “Very.” “Good.” She kissed him again. This time harder. Bram responded. Still controlled. That frustrated her. Not badly. Interesting badly. Mandi pulled back. “You’re being careful.” “Yes.” “Too careful.” Bram’s expression changed. Not offended. Listening. “You want less?” “I want you to stop treating me like glass.” “That is not the same thing.” Mandi smiled. “Good answer.” She took one of his hands and pressed it more firmly against her waist. “Still careful.” “Yes.” “But not afraid.” “No.” “Better.” The kiss returned. Different now. Bram still controlled his strength. But stopped hiding it. Mandi felt the difference immediately. The way he held her. The way weight and size became unmistakable without becoming dangerous. Her breath caught. She smiled into the kiss. “There.” Bram laughed softly. “That?” “Yes.” “Useful.” “Very.” His hand found the side of her dress. Stopped. Mandi looked down. Then up. “You know.” “Fast-drop?” “Yes.” “May I?” Mandi smiled. “Yes.” Bram found the release. One movement. Then another. The dark wrinkle-free dress surrendered around Mandi with almost insulting efficiency. The contrast was absurd. A tiny woman. An enormous gorilla sculpt. A very expensive evening gown collapsing between them in seconds. Bram caught most of it. Mandi caught one edge. She looked toward the chair. Then at Bram. “Throw it.” Bram blinked. “What?” “Throw it.” “Why?” “Long story.” He looked at the dress. Then tossed it. It landed perfectly over the chair. Mandi stared. Bram stared. Then Mandi sighed. “Everyone is against me.” Bram laughed. “What did you want?” “The floor.” “Why?” “Lena.” “That explains nothing.” “It explains everything.” Bram laughed harder. Mandi stepped close again. The joke disappeared. She looked directly at him. “Still yes?” “Yes.” “Good.” Bram touched her face. Carefully. Mandi leaned into it. Then put one hand over his. “Don’t overthink me.” “I’m trying not to.” “Try less.” That made him smile. The next kiss lasted much longer. Mandi let herself feel the scale this time. Not merely observe it. Bram’s hands around her. His shoulders under hers. The ridiculous difference between them. The strength he kept controlled because he chose to. That was what made it interesting. Not danger. Control. Mandi broke the kiss. Then looked toward the bed. Bram followed her gaze. Mandi smiled. “Engineering.” “Again?” “Oh, absolutely.” --- The first attempt failed. Completely. Mandi started laughing before they had even settled. Bram stopped immediately. “What?” “No.” “No?” “This is stupid.” He laughed. “Helpful.” “Move.” They did. Second attempt. Better. Still wrong. Mandi adjusted herself. Bram waited. She shifted again. Looked at him. “Closer.” He moved. “Not that close.” He stopped. Mandi laughed. “Fuck.” Bram laughed too. “This your field research?” “It’s going badly.” “Want to stop?” Mandi looked at him. “No.” “Want to change plan?” “Yes.” “Good.” That distinction mattered. They reset. No embarrassment. No pressure to make the first idea work simply because they had started it. Mandi changed position entirely. Bram followed. She tested the distance. Adjusted. Then looked at him. “Okay.” “Sure?” “Yes.” Bram waited one more second. Mandi reached for him. Pulled him closer. “Very.” The moment sex began was clear. The size difference made it impossible not to be. Mandi’s whole expression changed. A sharp breath. Eyes closing. One hand gripping Bram’s arm hard enough that her fingers disappeared into the fur. Bram stopped immediately. Mandi stayed still. Breathing. Adjusting. For once, it had a usable angle. Mandi opened her eyes. Bram watched her. No impatience. No movement. She breathed out. Then smiled. “Okay.” “Sure?” “Yes.” “Slow?” “Very.” Bram moved. Carefully. Mandi’s breath caught again. She stayed with it. Then nodded. “Again.” Another movement. Better. Mandi adjusted. Bram followed. The rhythm began one deliberate step at a time. Nothing rushed. Nothing assumed. Mandi’s face made every transition clear. Curiosity first. Then concentration. Then the moment concentration softened into pleasure. Her grip on Bram changed. Less defensive. More demanding. “Closer.” Bram obeyed. Mandi reacted immediately. A sharper breath. Then a low laugh. “That’s ridiculous.” “Bad?” “No.” She opened her eyes. “Very not bad.” Bram smiled. Mandi narrowed hers. “Don’t get smug.” “You keep saying that to people.” “Because everyone keeps earning it.” The rhythm strengthened. Still controlled. Bram never forgot the difference in scale. Mandi never let him retreat into overcaution either. When he slowed too much, she pulled him closer. When something became uncomfortable, she changed position and he followed. When the rhythm worked— she made that clear too. “Yes.” Again. “That.” Bram stayed with it. The geometry became harder to read now. Not because Bram completely blocked Mandi. Not yet. Because every adjustment changed what remained visible. Mandi disappeared partly behind one massive arm, then reappeared. Orange hair against dark fur. Her hand gripping his shoulder. Bram watched her face every time her breathing changed. The physical progression remained unmistakable even when the geometry became messy. Mandi’s composure began to fracture. She stopped joking. That was always the sign. Her eyes closed more often. Breath shortened. One hand braced against the bed. The other remained buried in Bram’s fur. Bram changed pace slightly. Mandi reacted hard. A sharp sound escaped her. Bram stopped. Mandi shook her head instantly. “No.” He waited. She took one breath. Then another. “Again.” Bram repeated it. Mandi’s head tipped back. Her grip tightened. “Oh.” There. Bram found the rhythm. Mandi recognized it. And once she did— she did not let him change it. “Don’t.” Bram looked at her. “Don’t change.” “I won’t.” “Good.” The build became obvious. Mandi’s whole body gradually tightening. Breath becoming shorter. Movements becoming less controlled. Orange hair falling across her face. Black eyes squeezed shut. Bram remained controlled enough to keep the scale safe— but no longer distant. Mandi had exactly what she had asked for. Strength without fear. Weight without loss of agency. Intensity without surrendering choice. Her hand tightened against him. Breathing broke. Then stopped. For one suspended second— everything held. Mandi’s body went completely taut. Then climax hit. Her breath returned in a broken, sharp exhale. She pulled Bram toward her as the tension released through her in waves. One shudder. Then another. Bram slowed instead of immediately separating. Mandi’s breathing stayed rough. Then gradually began to settle. But Bram— was not done. Mandi noticed before she opened her eyes. His breathing had changed. Deeper. Rougher. Control still present. But under strain now. Mandi opened one black eye. Looked at him. Then smiled. “Oh.” Bram laughed once. Weakly. “What?” “You’re still trying to be careful.” “Yes.” “Stop trying so hard.” His expression changed. “Mandi.” “I didn’t say stop being careful.” He waited. She put one hand against his face. “Still good?” “Yes.” “You want to keep going?” “Yes.” “Then keep going.” “You?” Mandi took a breath. Sensitive. Very. But present. Wanting. “Yes.” Bram waited another second. Mandi pulled him closer. “Yes.” That was enough. The rhythm returned. Slow at first. Mandi reacted sharply to the first few movements. Bram watched her. She nodded. “Good.” Another. Then another. Mandi adjusted. Found a position that let her remain comfortable. And this time— Bram’s progression became the clearest thing in the room. His breathing roughened quickly. The perfect control he had maintained through Mandi’s climax began to break down. Not dangerously. Humanly. His shoulders tightened. Movements became less mechanically precise. One hand braced hard against the bed. The other remained around Mandi. She watched him. Smiled. “There.” Bram’s eyes closed. Mandi’s voice softened. “You’re close.” He nodded once. “Good.” The rhythm changed. Not faster exactly. Less controlled. More instinctive. Mandi moved with him. Not passive. Not merely allowing. Helping him stay in the moment without losing awareness of her. Bram’s breath broke. His grip tightened. Mandi touched his face. “Still?” “Yes.” “Then go.” That was the last piece of permission he needed. Bram stopped trying to preserve the perfect rhythm. His whole body tightened. His shoulders locking. Breath stopping. One hand gripping hard enough to compress the bedding. The enormous frame suddenly held completely still. Then climax hit. Bram’s breath tore loose in a low, involuntary sound. His whole body shuddered. Once. Again. The control dissolved for those few seconds. Mandi held him through it. One arm around his neck. The other against his shoulder. No joke. No teasing. Just staying there. Bram exhaled hard. Long. The tension gradually released. Movement stopped. Completely. The room became quiet. Bram shifted enough to make sure his weight stayed away from Mandi. Then settled beside her instead. Mandi immediately moved closer. No hesitation. She curled against the enormous warmth of the sculpt. One arm across him. Her head resting against his chest. For a while neither spoke. Breathing slowed. Different scales. Same aftermath. Mandi’s eyes closed. Bram’s hand moved slowly through the neon-orange hair. Very carefully. Mandi made a pleased sound. “That.” “What?” “Keep doing that.” He did. The stillness stretched. Long enough that competition became irrelevant. Long enough that Mandi stopped thinking about the number four. Long enough that Bram stopped being the gorilla. Just Bram. Eventually he spoke. “Worth the field research?” Mandi smiled without opening her eyes. “Very.” “No regrets?” “One.” Bram stopped. “What?” “My dress landed on the chair.” He stared at her. Then laughed. Mandi started laughing too. The absurdity broke the quiet without destroying it. Bram looked toward the chair. “Want me to throw it on the floor?” Mandi considered. Then smiled. “No.” “No?” “I’ll do it myself.” “That seems petty.” “Extremely.” She closed her eyes again. Bram resumed stroking her hair. After another minute, Mandi said: “You know what?” “What?” “You’re much gentler than you look.” Bram smiled. “You’re much more trouble than you look.” Mandi opened one eye. “That is objectively false.” He laughed. She kissed his chest. Then settled again. Neither rushed to leave. --- Dalia looked at the hallway. Then at Elisa. Then at the hallway again. Elisa smiled. “You’re counting minutes.” “No.” “That excuse doesn’t work anymore.” Dalia sighed. “She’s been gone a while.” Elisa looked pleased. “You’re worried?” “No.” “Curious?” “Yes.” “Jealous?” Dalia looked at her. “No.” Elisa smiled. “About the score?” Dalia stared. Elisa laughed. “Maybe a little.” Dalia took the lollipop from her mouth. “You are becoming intolerable.” “You love me.” “Yes.” Elisa leaned in and kissed her. Dalia answered immediately. Long enough to stop watching the hallway. Long enough that when they separated, Elisa had both arms around her waist. Then movement appeared behind her. Dalia looked. Mandi. Walking slowly. Very slowly. Dress restored. Hair destroyed. Collar crooked. Expression deeply, offensively satisfied. Elisa turned. Saw her. Covered her mouth. Mandi pointed. “No.” Elisa started laughing anyway. Dalia’s eyebrows rose. Mandi approached. Each step slightly more deliberate than usual. Dalia looked her up and down. Then: “Well?” Mandi held up four fingers. Elisa lost the fight completely. She folded against Dalia laughing. Mandi stared. “This is discrimination.” Dalia smiled. “Good?” Mandi’s expression softened immediately. “Very.” Elisa recovered. Barely. Then walked directly into Mandi’s arms. Mandi hugged her. Tight. Elisa kissed her. Long. Mandi responded despite obviously being tired enough to consider horizontal furniture a strategic resource. When they separated, Elisa whispered: “Worth it?” Mandi smiled. “Oh, yes.” Dalia joined them. One arm around Mandi. One around Elisa. Then kissed Mandi herself. Slower. Warm. When they parted, Dalia looked toward the hallway. “Bram?” “Very good.” “Good.” No teasing in that answer. Then Elisa raised four fingers for Mandi. Mandi raised hers. Dalia raised three. Elisa raised three. Mandi stared. “Four, three, three.” Dalia sighed. “You are going to be unbearable.” Mandi smiled. “I already am.” Elisa looked toward the room. Then at Dalia. Then at Mandi. A dangerous little smile appeared. Mandi noticed. “Oh.” Dalia did too. “No.” Elisa looked innocent. “What?” “You have that face.” Mandi laughed. “She does.” Elisa took her drink back from Mandi. Finished it. Then handed the empty glass to Dalia. “Hold this.” Dalia stared at it. Mandi grinned. “There she goes.” Elisa walked toward the room. Dalia watched her. “Four, three, three.” Mandi leaned against her. “For now.” And judging by Elisa’s expression— not for long. --- ## Chapter 10 — The Heiress Hunts Elisa did not look back this time. She knew they were watching. That was enough. Behind her, Mandi leaned more heavily against Dalia than she probably realized. Dalia noticed. Naturally. “You should sit down.” “I am sitting down.” “You are standing.” “Conceptually.” Dalia looked at her. Mandi sighed. “Fine.” She dropped onto the nearest sofa. Dalia remained standing beside her. Mandi immediately wrapped both arms around one of Dalia’s legs. Dalia looked down. “What are you doing?” “Resting.” “You have an entire sofa.” “I like this better.” Dalia ran one hand through the destroyed neon-orange hair. Mandi closed her eyes. “See?” “You are impossible.” “Mm.” Dalia smiled. Then looked across the room. Elisa had chosen. Not accidentally. Not because someone had approached her. She was hunting now. And the woman she was approaching had noticed. --- The sculpt was unmistakably canine. Not wolf. Not dog. Hyena. Female. Powerfully built. Golden-brown coat with darker spotting. Rounded ears. Strong shoulders. A face altered enough that the design read immediately while leaving the human eyes expressive. Very expressive. Currently amused. Elisa stopped in front of her. The hyena looked down slightly. “You finally picked someone.” Elisa blinked. “Am I that obvious too?” “Tonight?” A broad smile. “Yes.” Elisa laughed. “I’m beginning to regret inviting observant people.” “That would empty the room.” “Fair.” The woman standing beside the sculpt grinned. “Elisa, this is Tavi.” The hyena extended one hand. “Elisa.” “I know.” Elisa sighed. “Of course.” The other woman laughed. “Romy.” Elisa took her hand too. “You two together?” Tavi nodded. “Eight years.” Romy added: “Biosculpt for four days.” “First time?” Tavi shook her head. “Third.” Elisa’s eyebrows rose. “You like hyena?” “I like this hyena.” That answer made Elisa smile. Different. Good. She looked at the sculpt properly. Tavi let her. No performance. No deliberate display. Just comfort in the form. Elisa pointed toward the ears. “Do those work?” Tavi laughed. “Very much.” “Tail too?” “Yes.” That had become one of Elisa’s favorite questions after the spa. Whether the sculpt was merely shaped like something— or actually lived through it. She lifted one hand. “May I?” Tavi nodded. Elisa touched the fur along one shoulder. Different again. Shorter than the wolfdog. Denser than she expected. Her fingers moved slowly. Tavi watched her. Then one rounded ear shifted toward Elisa. Elisa laughed. “Oh, that’s unfair.” “What?” “You just answered without saying anything.” Tavi smiled. “Useful?” Elisa’s eyes narrowed. “Everyone keeps using that word.” “Maybe you’re all spending time with the same people.” “Unfortunately.” From across the room Mandi shouted: “I HEARD THAT.” Elisa closed her eyes. Tavi laughed. Romy looked over. “Orange hair?” “My lover.” “And pink dreadlocks?” “Also my lover.” Romy nodded. “That explains a lot.” Elisa stared. “What does that explain?” “Your evening.” Elisa laughed. “Apparently everything.” Tavi looked toward Mandi and Dalia. Then back at Elisa. “They good?” “Very.” “And you?” Elisa smiled. “Very.” That answer came easily now. Romy looked between them. Then at Tavi. “I’m going to find Sable.” Tavi’s expression brightened. “Have fun.” Romy kissed her. Long enough that Elisa politely looked elsewhere for perhaps two seconds. Then realized nobody required that. So she looked back. The kiss ended. Romy smiled at Elisa. “You too.” Elisa returned the smile. “Planning to.” Romy left. Tavi looked at Elisa. “So.” “So.” “You were coming over here for a reason.” Elisa folded her arms. “I was.” “Still have it?” Elisa considered that. Then stepped closer. “Yes.” Tavi’s smile changed. “Good.” Elisa reached up. Touched the side of Tavi’s face. Tavi leaned into the contact. Elisa noticed immediately. No nervousness. No surprise that she could read it. Just interest. “You like that.” “Yes.” Elisa’s hand remained there. Then Tavi touched her waist. Paused. Elisa stepped closer. Question answered. Tavi’s head lowered. Elisa met her. The first kiss had an immediate problem. Teeth. Not dangerous. Just different enough that Elisa laughed and pulled back. Tavi laughed too. “Learning curve.” “That keeps happening tonight.” “Want another try?” “Yes.” They adjusted. The second worked. Elisa smiled into it. Then stopped smiling because the kiss deepened. Tavi’s hands settled around her waist. Elisa’s moved into the short fur at the back of her neck. When they separated, Elisa was breathing slightly harder. Tavi looked at her. “Private?” Elisa answered instantly. “Yes.” Then she looked across the room. Mandi had one eye open. Dalia had both. Elisa held up four fingers. Mandi sat bolt upright. “That is premature!” Elisa laughed. Dalia pointed at Mandi. “You did exactly the same thing.” “That was different.” “How?” “I was right.” Elisa turned away before she started laughing too hard to walk. Tavi looked at her. “Competitive?” Elisa smiled. “I’m beginning to think so.” --- The private lounge had no bed. Elisa noticed immediately. A broad low chaise. Deep rug. Two chairs. A wall of glass switched opaque for privacy. Tavi looked around. “Want another room?” Elisa looked at the chaise. Then at Tavi. “No.” “You sure?” A slow smile. “Yes.” That answer interested Tavi. Elisa closed the door. Then turned. No nervous pause. No waiting for Tavi to decide what happened. She walked directly toward her. Stopped close. Touched the rounded ear. Tavi’s eyes half closed. Elisa smiled. “Still unfair.” “You keep doing it.” “Because you keep reacting.” “Good reason.” The kiss returned. Easier now. They had learned the mechanics. Tavi’s hands came around Elisa. Elisa pulled closer. The strength difference existed. Nothing like Bram and Mandi. Enough to be noticeable. Tavi could easily have directed the entire encounter physically. She did not. Elisa liked that. She broke the kiss. “Still good?” “Yes.” “You?” “Very.” Tavi’s fingers touched the side of the cream gown. Paused. Elisa started laughing. “You know.” “Lena?” “Of course.” “Fast-drop?” “Yes.” Tavi smiled. “May I?” Elisa took one of her hands. Guided it. “Yes.” The gown released. Clean. Immediate. Elisa caught one section. Tavi another. They both looked toward the chaise. Elisa carefully folded the fabric over one end. Tavi stared. “You really are corpo.” “Lena threatened me.” “That excuse is getting weaker.” “It keeps the dress off the floor.” “Fair.” Elisa turned. Tavi was watching her. Not the dress. Her. The humor disappeared. Elisa crossed the space. Kissed her again. Harder. Tavi responded immediately. They moved together toward the chaise. Elisa reached it first. Did not sit. Instead she turned them. Tavi’s eyebrows rose. “There it is.” “What?” “The competitive one.” Elisa laughed. “This has nothing to do with the score.” “Of course.” Elisa pushed lightly at her shoulder. Tavi sat on the broad chaise. Not forced. Following. Elisa remained standing between her knees. Tavi looked up. Elisa realized she liked that. A lot. “Still?” Tavi smiled. “Yes.” Elisa bent and kissed her. Tavi’s hands settled at her hips. Elisa moved closer. Then paused. Looked down. Considered the arrangement. Tavi waited. Elisa adjusted. One knee onto the chaise. Then the other. Closer now. But not right. She frowned. Tavi smiled. “Geometry?” Elisa stared. “Everybody talks.” “Apparently.” “Traitors.” She shifted again. Tavi helped only when Elisa guided her hand. Another adjustment. Elisa exhaled. “That.” Tavi looked at her. “Good?” “Yes.” “You sure?” Elisa held her gaze. Then moved closer herself. “Yes.” The moment sex began was unmistakable. Elisa’s breath caught. Her whole body stopped. Both hands tightened against Tavi’s shoulders. Tavi froze immediately. No movement. Elisa closed her eyes. A breath. Another. Then a third. Tavi waited. Elisa opened her eyes. “Okay.” “Slow?” “Yes.” Tavi moved. Elisa inhaled sharply. Stayed. Adjusted. Then nodded. “Again.” Another deliberate movement. Elisa’s expression softened. The initial concentration began to give way. She shifted her own position. Found the rhythm. Tavi followed. Their positions kept both faces readable. Elisa above. Tavi watching her. Every change visible. Every pause belonging to them instead of the narration. Elisa moved with more confidence now. The chaise changed the dynamic. She controlled distance. Angle. How close she wanted Tavi. When something worked, she repeated it herself. Tavi smiled. “You’ve learned quickly.” Elisa breathed out. “Had good teachers.” “Orange or pink?” “Both.” Tavi laughed. Then changed the rhythm beneath her. Elisa’s answer became a sharp inhale. The laugh disappeared. Tavi stopped. Elisa immediately shook her head. “No.” “Good?” “Yes.” She repositioned slightly. Then looked down. “Again.” Tavi repeated it. Elisa’s eyes closed. “Fuck.” Tavi smiled. Elisa opened one eye. “Do not.” “Do not what?” “Look like Mandi.” That made Tavi laugh hard enough to ruin the rhythm completely. Elisa laughed too. For several seconds neither could recover. Then Elisa leaned forward and kissed her. The humor softened. The rhythm returned. Gradually. And this time the build came faster. Elisa already knew what she wanted. Tavi knew what reaction she was looking for. Both women’s progression remained readable. Elisa’s breathing deepened. Her movements becoming less deliberate. Tavi’s hands holding without controlling. The rounded ears shifting with every change in sensation. Elisa noticed once. Smiled. Then lost the ability to care. The rhythm strengthened. Her dreadfully respectable corpo composure began disappearing again. Shoulders tightening. Breath shortening. Hands gripping Tavi. Tavi watched her carefully. No need for constant words now. But when Elisa suddenly changed— Tavi checked. “Still?” “Yes.” Immediate. Then: “Don’t change.” Tavi stayed exactly where she was. Exactly the rhythm Elisa had chosen. The build became unavoidable. Elisa’s eyes squeezed shut. Her body tightened. Each breath shorter than the last. Then one stopped entirely. She froze. Held. And climax broke through her. A sharp sound escaped before her breath returned in a long shaking exhale. Her whole body drew tight against Tavi. Then shuddered. Again. The tension released gradually. Tavi slowed. Did not pull away. Elisa folded forward against her. Face buried against the fur at Tavi’s shoulder. Breathing hard. Tavi’s hands remained around her. Steady. Warm. Elisa stayed there. Recovering. Then Elisa noticed. Tavi’s breathing had not slowed. Not remotely. Her arms were still tense around Elisa. The easy confidence gone. Elisa lifted her head. Tavi’s eyes were partly closed. Expression concentrated. Elisa smiled slowly. “Oh.” Tavi opened her eyes. “What?” “You’re not done.” A breathless laugh. “No.” “Good.” Elisa kissed her. Slowly. Then adjusted herself. Sensitive. Aware. Not ready for exactly the same rhythm. Tavi waited. Elisa moved once. Stopped. Changed position slightly. “Better.” “You sure?” “Yes.” “Want a break?” Elisa thought about it. Then shook her head. “No.” She touched Tavi’s face. “You want to finish?” Tavi’s answer was immediate. “Yes.” Elisa smiled. “Then show me.” Something in Tavi’s expression changed. The rhythm resumed. Careful initially because Elisa still needed it. Then gradually stronger. Elisa moved with her. Not chasing another peak. Watching. Feeling the changes in Tavi instead. The way her breathing roughened. The way the rounded ears gradually stopped reacting to every sound and pinned back with concentration. The way her grip tightened. Elisa recognized the progression now. It fascinated her. “You’re close.” Tavi laughed once. Broken. “Very.” Elisa drew her closer. “Good.” Tavi’s rhythm slipped. Recovered. Slipped again. Tavi’s build became the clearest thing in the room. Her eyes closing. Breath breaking. Shoulders tightening. Movement losing its practiced control. Elisa kept contact. Kept watching. Tavi inhaled sharply. Her whole body went taut. The rhythm froze. One suspended moment. Then release. Tavi’s breath tore loose in a raw, involuntary sound. Her arms tightened around Elisa. Her entire frame shuddered. Once. Again. The tension broke through her in visible waves. Elisa held her. Both arms around her neck now. Forehead pressed against hers. Tavi exhaled hard. Movement stopped completely. The room became still. Neither separated. Elisa remained astride the chaise, curled close against Tavi. Tavi’s arms stayed around her. Their breathing gradually slowed together. One of Tavi’s rounded ears finally relaxed. Elisa noticed. Touched it lightly. Tavi made a quiet pleased sound. Elisa smiled. “That too?” “Yes.” “Useful.” Tavi opened one eye. “There’s that word.” Elisa laughed softly. She kissed the side of Tavi’s face. Then settled again. No urgency. No score. No need to get dressed simply because both were finished. The stillness lasted until their breathing became ordinary again. Then Tavi spoke. “Four?” Elisa closed her eyes. “You people are horrible.” Tavi laughed. “I saw the fingers.” “Yes.” “Four?” Elisa lifted four fingers between them. Tavi smiled. “Congratulations.” “Thank you.” A beat. Then Elisa started laughing. “That is the stupidest thing anyone has said to me tonight.” “And yet you look proud.” Elisa thought about it. Then smiled. “Yes.” --- Mandi saw Elisa return. She had relocated from the sofa. Technically. She was now lying lengthwise with her head in Dalia’s lap. Dalia had accepted this without comment. One hand moved lazily through Mandi’s neon-orange hair. The other held Elisa’s empty glass. Still. Mandi saw Elisa. Her eyes opened fully. Then widened. Elisa’s gown was immaculate. Again. Her hair was not. Again. Her expression was. Deeply satisfied. Again. Mandi sat up. Too quickly. Immediately regretted it. “Fuck.” Dalia caught her shoulder. “Graceful.” “Shut up.” Elisa approached. Smiling. Mandi raised four fingers. Elisa raised four. Mandi stared. Then grinned. “Oh, you bitch.” Elisa laughed. Dalia lifted three. Elisa looked at her. Mandi looked at her. Dalia looked at both. Then slowly lowered her hand. “No.” Mandi’s grin widened. “Yes.” Elisa stepped behind the sofa and wrapped both arms around Dalia’s shoulders. Dalia leaned back into her. Elisa kissed her cheek. “You’re behind.” Dalia’s eyes narrowed. “This entire household is intolerable.” Mandi pointed around the apartment. “Not your household.” “You know what I meant.” Elisa kissed Dalia properly this time. Long. Slow. Dalia’s annoyance dissolved into it. Mandi watched. Then: “Still three.” Dalia separated from Elisa. Very slowly. Looked at Mandi. “You have chosen death.” Mandi burst out laughing. Elisa kissed Dalia’s temple. “Go catch up.” Dalia looked across the room. Plenty of people remained. Some had already disappeared together more than once. Some were resting. Some eating. Some talking as though the apartment had not spent the last several hours turning into an extremely polite orgy. Dalia’s gaze moved. Stopped. Someone noticed. And smiled. Mandi followed the line. “Oh.” Elisa did too. Then smiled. “There she goes.” Dalia took the lollipop from her mouth. Looked at both lovers. “Four, four, three.” Mandi grinned. “For now.” Dalia stood. Adjusted the screaming neon-pink dreadlocks over one shoulder. Then walked toward her next choice. Elisa dropped onto the sofa beside Mandi. Mandi immediately leaned against her. Elisa wrapped one arm around her. Both watched Dalia cross the room. Mandi smiled. “Think she cares?” Elisa laughed. “More than she’ll ever admit.” Across the room, Dalia smiled at the person waiting for her. And the score had finally managed something extraordinary. It had made Dalia hurry. --- ## Chapter 11 — Dalia Does Not Hurry Dalia did not hurry. That was important. She walked at exactly the same measured pace she always did. Calm. Elegant. Menthol lollipop between her lips. Screaming neon-pink dreadlocks over one shoulder. Absolutely no indication whatsoever that both of her lovers were sitting behind her with four encounters each while she had three. Mandi watched her go. Then looked at Elisa. “She’s hurrying.” Elisa nodded. “Definitely.” Dalia stopped without turning. Raised one hand. Middle finger. Mandi collapsed against Elisa laughing. “She heard us.” “She always hears you.” “That sounds judgmental.” “It is.” Mandi settled again with her head against Elisa’s shoulder. Elisa kissed her hair. Casual. Automatic. No hierarchy in it. No sense that either woman was borrowing the other from someone else. Dalia was walking toward another person because she wanted to. Mandi was curled against Elisa because she wanted to. Later the arrangement might be entirely different. Nobody was keeping possession. Only score. Unfortunately. Across the room, Dalia reached her target. --- The biosculpt was equine-inspired. Not a literal horse. Not remotely. Human proportions remained dominant, but the transformation was unmistakable. Tall. Long-legged. Powerful through the hips and thighs. A short velvet-brown coat followed most of the body. Dark mane beginning at the scalp and continuing partway down the neck. Ears mobile. Tail fully articulated. The face remained expressive enough that the woman’s smile came through immediately. Her eyes were human. Green. Very amused. Dalia stopped in front of her. The woman smiled. “You took your time.” Dalia removed the lollipop. “Apparently everyone has been watching me tonight.” “You’re difficult not to watch.” “That was better.” The woman laughed. “I’m Maya.” “Dalia.” “I know.” Dalia closed her eyes briefly. “Of course you do.” A man standing nearby lifted one hand. “Oren.” Dalia looked between them. “Partner?” Maya nodded. “Seven years.” Oren added: “Married for four.” Dalia’s eyebrows rose. “Congratulations.” “Thank you.” Maya tilted her head. “You asking because of the rules?” “Yes.” “Good.” Dalia appreciated that answer. No offended defensiveness. No assumption that relationship status answered the real question. She looked at Maya. “Your sculpt?” “My choice.” “First time?” “Second.” “Same design?” “Almost. Better tail this time.” As if on cue, the tail moved. Dalia looked. Then back at Maya. “Full control?” “Yes.” “Ears too?” Maya demonstrated. Dalia smiled. “That is going to be distracting.” “You can touch them.” Dalia lifted one eyebrow. “I was going to ask.” “Ask anyway.” Good. Dalia stepped closer. “May I?” “Yes.” She touched one ear carefully. Maya’s reaction was immediate. A small breath. Eyes narrowing. Dalia stopped. “Sensitive.” “Very.” Dalia smiled slowly. “Useful.” Maya laughed. “There’s that word again.” Dalia stared. “You people really do talk.” “It’s a party.” “So I’ve been informed.” Oren looked toward the seating area. Mandi and Elisa were still watching. Mandi waved. Dalia ignored her. Oren smiled. “I’m guessing those are the lovers.” Dalia looked back. “My lovers.” No hesitation. No qualification. No distinction between one and the other. Oren nodded. “Thought so.” Maya looked past Dalia too. “They look happy.” “They are insufferably happy.” Mandi shouted from across the room: “WE LOVE YOU TOO.” Several people laughed. Dalia slowly put the lollipop back into her mouth. Maya was openly grinning now. “You really chose interesting women.” Dalia looked at her. “No.” Maya raised an eyebrow. “They chose me too.” That changed the answer. Maya’s smile softened. “Better.” “Yes.” Oren leaned toward Maya. “I’m going to get food.” Maya nodded. They kissed. No performance. Familiar. Warm. When they separated, Oren touched her shoulder. “You good?” “Very.” Then he looked at Dalia. “You?” Dalia smiled. “Very.” “Excellent.” He walked away. Maya watched him go. Then looked at Dalia. “You’re at three.” Dalia stared. Maya started laughing. “Fuck all of you.” “You’re counting too.” “I am not.” Maya waited. Dalia sighed. “Four would be aesthetically cleaner.” “Of course.” “Symmetry matters.” “Certainly.” Dalia narrowed her eyes. Maya smiled. Dalia liked her. That was becoming a problem. “So,” Maya said. “So.” “You came over.” “Yes.” “Want to keep going?” Dalia stepped closer. “Yes.” Maya’s hands settled lightly at her waist. Dalia looked down at them. Then back up. “Private?” “Yes.” Dalia replaced the lollipop in its small case. Maya noticed. “That serious?” Dalia smiled. “You haven’t earned the lollipop yet.” Maya laughed. Then followed her toward the hallway. Behind them Mandi whispered: “Four.” Elisa whispered back: “Premature.” Mandi looked offended. “That was my line.” --- The room Maya chose had a bed. Dalia looked at it. Then at Maya. “No.” Maya blinked. “No?” “Too easy.” A smile began. “What do you want?” Dalia looked around. There was a broad padded bench near the window. Low enough. Stable. Interesting. She pointed. “That.” Maya looked at the bench. Then at Dalia. “Competitive?” “Creative.” “Same thing tonight.” Dalia laughed. “Perhaps.” She crossed the room. Maya followed. Dalia stopped beside the bench and turned. Maya stood close. Not touching yet. Dalia reached for the short mane. Stopped. “May I?” “Yes.” Her fingers moved into it. Maya’s eyes closed briefly. Dalia watched. Then leaned in. The kiss started slowly. Maya kissed back. No immediate escalation. They were both testing. Finding the shape of the other. Dalia’s hand remained in the mane. Maya’s settled at her waist. The kiss deepened. Maya’s ears shifted. Dalia felt one brush against her hand. Smiled into the kiss. Maya pulled back. “What?” “Nothing.” “That was definitely something.” Dalia touched the ear again. Maya inhaled. Dalia smiled. “Useful.” “Oh, fuck you.” “Possibly.” Maya laughed. Dalia kissed her again. Harder this time. The humor remained for several seconds. Then dissolved. Maya’s hands moved along the sides of Dalia’s gown. Stopped. Dalia noticed. “Fast-drop.” “Of course.” “Lena.” “I’ve heard.” Dalia sighed. “Everyone has.” Maya smiled. “May I?” Dalia guided her hand to the release. “Yes.” The mechanism opened cleanly. The gown fell away in controlled sections. Dalia caught one. Maya another. Unlike Mandi— Dalia did not throw anything. She folded the gown once. Placed it carefully across the chair. Maya watched. “That was extremely elegant.” Dalia looked at her. “Tell Mandi.” “I’m sure she knows.” “She does not.” Maya laughed. Then her expression changed. Dalia stepped back toward her. No dress. No lollipop. No jokes between them now. Maya reached out. Paused. Dalia moved into the touch. Question answered. They kissed again. Longer. Dalia’s hands moved around Maya’s neck. One thumb brushing the edge of the short mane. Maya’s hands settled lower at Dalia’s waist. Dalia pulled her closer. Then stopped. “Still?” “Yes.” “You?” “Very.” Dalia smiled. “Good.” She guided Maya toward the padded bench. Not commanding. Leading. Maya followed willingly. They reached it. Dalia considered the height. Positioning. Angles. Then smiled. “This might actually work.” Maya laughed. “Confidence inspiring.” “Sit.” Maya raised an eyebrow. Dalia smiled. “Please.” “That sounded painful.” “It was.” Maya sat. Dalia stepped between her knees. The height difference worked surprisingly well now. Dalia touched Maya’s face. Then kissed her. Maya’s hands moved around her. Dalia shifted closer. Tested one position. Not quite. Changed it. Maya waited. Another adjustment. Better. Dalia looked directly at her. “Good?” “Yes.” “Me too.” She moved again. The transition into sex was unmistakable. Dalia’s breath caught. Not dramatically. A sharp interruption. Her hands tightened at Maya’s shoulders. Maya froze. Dalia stayed still. Breathing. Assessing. Then nodded. “Slow.” Maya moved carefully. Dalia inhaled. Stayed. Another movement. Dalia adjusted. “Again.” The rhythm began. Controlled. Measured. Very Dalia. At first. She watched Maya’s face. Maya watched hers. Every change communicated. If Dalia shifted, Maya followed. If Maya tried something different, Dalia’s expression gave the answer before words were necessary. Nothing about the geometry hid either woman’s response. Dalia’s neon-pink dreadlocks fell forward over one shoulder. Maya’s ears moved with the sounds in the room. Dalia noticed. Then intentionally brushed one again. Maya’s breath changed. Dalia smiled. “Oh.” “You did that deliberately.” “Yes.” “Bitch.” “Thank you.” Maya laughed. The rhythm faltered. Then returned. Dalia used the reaction. Not cruelly. Playfully. Fingers through the mane. Along one ear. Watching Maya’s composure crack a little more each time. Maya retaliated. Changed the rhythm. Dalia stopped smiling. A breath broke from her. Maya smiled. “There.” Dalia stared. “You sound like Mandi.” “Apparently contagious.” Dalia pulled her closer. “Again.” Maya repeated it. Dalia’s eyes closed. Her grip tightened. That worked. Very well. The rhythm built. Not suddenly. Layer by layer. Dalia’s control eroding in visible increments. Her breathing deepened. Shoulders tightened. The elegant posture gradually disappeared. Maya stayed with the rhythm Dalia had clearly chosen. Dalia moved with her. No passive surrender. Her own motion becoming increasingly instinctive. She opened her eyes. Maya was watching. “Still?” Maya smiled. “Yes.” Dalia breathed out. “Good.” Then Maya shifted. Small change. Dalia reacted immediately. A sharper sound. Her eyes closed again. “That.” Maya stayed there. Dalia’s breathing shortened. The build became obvious. One hand braced against Maya’s shoulder. The other remained in the dark mane. Her composure was almost gone now. No joke. No commentary. Just breath. Motion. Tension. Maya watched closely. Dalia’s body tightened. Breathing broke. Then stopped. One suspended beat. Her whole frame went taut. Then climax hit. Dalia’s breath returned in a low fractured sound. Her fingers tightened in Maya’s mane without pulling. Her body shuddered. Once. Again. The tension released through her gradually. Maya slowed. Stayed close. Dalia folded toward her. Forehead against Maya’s. Breathing hard. The first seconds afterward remained with both women exactly where they were, neither having any reason to move. Then Dalia opened her eyes. Maya was still breathing too hard. Still tense. Dalia noticed instantly. A smile returned. Slow. Dangerous. “You thought I wasn’t watching.” Maya laughed breathlessly. “I hoped.” “No.” Dalia kissed her. Soft. Then adjusted. Sensitive. Careful. Maya waited. Dalia took another breath. “Still yes.” “You sure?” “Yes.” “Slow?” “For now.” Maya nodded. The rhythm resumed. Gentler. Dalia reacted. Stayed. Adjusted. Then: “Good.” Maya continued. Dalia watched her now. Really watched. The change came quickly. Maya had been holding herself back through Dalia’s climax. Now the control began to go. Breathing rougher. Ears pinned slightly back. Hands tightening. Movement becoming less exact. Dalia stopped teasing. One hand moved to the side of Maya’s face. “Don’t fight it.” Maya’s eyes closed. A broken laugh. “Bossy.” “Yes.” The rhythm slipped. Recovered. Slipped again. Dalia followed rather than corrected. “Still?” “Yes.” “Good.” Maya inhaled sharply. Her whole body tightened. The next movement lost nearly all precision. Dalia drew closer. “Go.” Maya’s breath stopped. One suspended second. Then release. A low involuntary sound escaped her. Her arms tightened hard around Dalia. Her body shuddered. Tail going rigid behind her before dropping again. The tension broke in waves. Dalia held her through it. One arm around Maya’s neck. The other stroking slowly along the side of her face. Maya exhaled. Long. Shaking. Movement disappeared completely. Then came stillness. Dalia stayed where she was. Maya remained seated on the bench with Dalia close against her. Foreheads touching. Two sets of breathing gradually settling. No hurry. No score. No audience. The room beyond the opaque glass might as well not exist. Eventually Maya opened her eyes. Dalia was already looking at her. “Four?” Dalia closed her eyes. Maya laughed. Dalia started laughing too. “You are all absolutely intolerable.” “That’s a yes.” “Yes.” Maya smiled. “Congratulations on symmetry.” Dalia stared. Then laughed harder. “Fuck you.” “You already threatened that.” “Apparently I’m repetitive.” “No.” Maya touched one neon-pink dreadlock. Dalia let her. “You’re fun.” “That accusation will never leave this room.” “Your lovers already know.” Dalia smiled. “Yes.” That answer was softer. Maya noticed. “You really love them.” “Very much.” “Both?” Dalia looked almost offended. “There is no ‘both’ question.” Maya waited. Dalia touched her cheek. “They’re my lovers. Not positions in a ranking.” Maya’s expression softened. “Good answer.” “It’s simply the answer.” They stayed close another minute. Then two. Only after the stillness had genuinely run its course did Dalia finally move. She looked toward the chair. Her gown remained perfect. Naturally. Maya followed her gaze. “No floor?” “I have standards.” “Mandi doesn’t?” Dalia smiled. “Mandi has Lena.” “That explains nothing.” “It explains everything.” --- Mandi was still on the sofa. Elisa was beside her. Both saw Dalia emerge. Both immediately raised four fingers. Dalia stopped in the doorway. Slowly raised four of her own. Mandi threw both arms into the air. “SYMMETRY!” Several nearby guests laughed. Dalia closed her eyes. Elisa was laughing too hard to help. Dalia walked toward them. Calm. Elegant. Absolutely not moving a little more carefully than before. Mandi noticed. Of course. Her grin widened. Dalia pointed at her. “Do not.” “I said nothing.” “Your face is screaming.” Elisa stood. Reached Dalia first. Wrapped both arms around her. Dalia’s expression softened instantly. Elisa kissed her. Slow. Familiar. No claim. No welcome-back-from-someone-else tension. Just affection. When the kiss ended Elisa whispered: “Good?” “Very.” Mandi stood too. Perhaps more slowly than she intended. Dalia noticed. Said nothing. Mandi wrapped herself around Dalia next. Neon orange against screaming neon pink. Dalia held her. Mandi kissed her long enough that Elisa eventually leaned against both of them. Three women. Three lovers. No center. No hierarchy. Just whichever arms happened to be where. When they separated, Mandi raised four fingers between them. Dalia did the same. Elisa joined. Four. Four. Four. Mandi looked around. “Perfect.” Dalia narrowed her eyes. “No.” Mandi looked innocent. “What?” “I know that tone.” Elisa smiled. “So do I.” Mandi pointed at both of them. “You are paranoid.” Dalia put the menthol lollipop back into her mouth. “You’re already looking for five.” Mandi froze. Elisa’s eyes widened. Then slowly— very slowly— she smiled. Mandi looked betrayed. “You were watching me.” Dalia smiled around the lollipop. “Symmetry matters.” Elisa burst out laughing. Mandi stared at her two lovers. Then looked around the room. Four. Four. Four. A perfect tie. For approximately twelve seconds. Then Mandi’s black eyes found someone across the room. Dalia followed the gaze. Elisa did too. Mandi smiled. Dalia sighed. “There it is.” Elisa leaned into her. “Five?” Dalia looked at Mandi. Mandi stood. Straightened her collar. Ran both hands through the impossible neon-orange hair. Then grinned. “Five.” And started walking. --- ## Chapter 12 — Five Mandi walked away from the perfect tie. Four. Four. Four. It had lasted twelve seconds. Possibly thirteen. Dalia watched her cross the room. Then looked at Elisa. “You encouraged this.” Elisa leaned against her. “So did you.” “I pointed out arithmetic.” “You told Mandi she needed two more.” “I stated a fact.” Elisa smiled. “In front of Mandi.” Dalia considered that. Then sighed. “Fair.” Elisa kissed her cheek. Mandi had already reached her next target. Dalia looked. “Oh.” Elisa followed her gaze. Then laughed. “That makes sense.” It did. After Bram, Mandi had chosen almost the exact opposite. --- The woman was fox-inspired. Not huge. Not imposing. If anything, slightly shorter than most of the people around her. Lean. Compact. Built for speed rather than weight. Rust-red fur covered most of the sculpt, fading toward cream along the throat and lower face. Black markings followed forearms and lower legs. Large triangular ears moved independently. A long tail remained in almost constant motion. The face preserved enough human structure that the smile was unmistakably mischievous. And the eyes— human. Hazel. Currently watching Mandi with precisely the same expression Mandi was wearing. That was probably bad. Mandi stopped. The fox smiled. “Mandi.” Mandi stared. “Apparently introductions have been abolished.” “They have.” “Fine. You know me.” “I do.” “Your turn.” “Kessa.” A woman beside her lifted a glass. “June.” Mandi looked between them. “Partner?” June nodded. “On and off for years.” Kessa added: “Currently very much on.” June smiled. “Extremely.” Mandi grinned. “I like clarity.” “So do we.” Mandi looked at Kessa. Then at the constantly moving tail. “Full control?” “Yes.” “The ears?” Kessa flicked one. “Yes.” “Enhanced hearing?” “Yes.” “Smell?” “Somewhat.” Mandi smiled. “And reflexes?” Kessa’s smile widened. “A lot.” There it was. Mandi’s black eyes brightened. “Oh.” June laughed. “I knew that would get her.” Kessa looked at her. “You predicted this?” “The orange one has spent the entire evening choosing interesting problems.” Mandi looked offended. “I choose opportunities.” “The gorilla was an opportunity?” “Extremely.” Kessa laughed. Mandi stepped closer. “May I?” Kessa tilted her head. “What?” Mandi gestured toward one ear. Kessa smiled. “Yes.” Mandi touched it. Very lightly. The ear shifted against her fingertips. Kessa inhaled. Mandi froze. Then smiled. “Sensitive?” “Yes.” “How sensitive?” Kessa caught her wrist. Not stopping her. Holding. “Enough that you should be responsible.” Mandi laughed. “That seems unlikely.” “Then perhaps I should reconsider.” Mandi immediately softened the touch. “Responsible.” Kessa watched her. Then released the wrist. “Better.” That tiny exchange changed something. Playful did not mean careless. Mandi understood that instinctively. She stroked the outer edge once. Kessa leaned into it. Mandi smiled. “Useful.” June groaned. “Not that word.” Mandi looked at her. “You too?” “Everybody.” “This party has terrible information security.” Kessa laughed. June stepped closer and kissed her. Kessa answered immediately. When they separated, June touched the side of the fox-like muzzle. “You good?” “Yes.” “Want me around?” Kessa thought about it. Then shook her head. “No.” June nodded. “Message if that changes.” “I will.” She looked at Mandi. Mandi smiled. “Same.” June nodded. Then walked away. Mandi watched her go. “Nice.” Kessa looked at her. “She is.” Mandi turned back. “Ready to make a terrible decision?” Kessa’s ears angled forward. “Is that your invitation?” “No.” Mandi stepped closer. Their height difference was small enough that neither needed to compensate. She looked directly into Kessa’s eyes. “Would you like to go somewhere private with me?” “Yes.” “Good.” Kessa smiled. “Much better.” Mandi offered her hand. Kessa took it. Then Mandi glanced toward the sofa. Elisa raised five fingers. Dalia grabbed Elisa’s wrist and lowered the hand. “Premature.” Mandi shouted: “THANK YOU.” Elisa laughed. Kessa looked between them. “Lovers?” Mandi smiled. “My lovers.” No distinction. No explanation. Kessa nodded. “They’re cute.” Mandi looked offended. “Dalia will have you killed.” “I heard that.” Dalia’s voice carried easily across the room. Kessa laughed. Mandi squeezed her hand. “Come on.” --- They did not choose a bedroom. Kessa stopped outside one of the smaller private exercise rooms Elisa had converted for the evening. Mandi looked inside. Padded floor. Low benches. No fixed furniture near the center. She looked at Kessa. “Oh.” Kessa smiled. “You wanted reflexes.” Mandi stepped inside. “Yes.” The door closed. Mandi turned. Kessa was already closer. Mandi smiled. “You move quietly.” “Yes.” “I like that.” “I noticed.” The first kiss was quick. Almost testing. They separated. Looked at each other. Then kissed again. Harder. Mandi’s hands moved to Kessa’s shoulders. Kessa’s settled at her waist. Mandi shifted. Kessa mirrored her. Mandi shifted the other direction. Kessa followed that too. Mandi pulled back. “You’re doing that deliberately.” “Yes.” “Good.” She moved suddenly. Not away. Around. Kessa turned with her. Fast. Mandi laughed. “Oh, this is going to be fun.” Kessa’s tail flicked sharply behind her. “You’re quick.” “So are you.” Mandi kissed her again. Then slipped sideways just as Kessa tried to draw her closer. Kessa caught her anyway. Mandi made an outraged sound. “Cheating.” “How?” “Tail.” “I didn’t use the tail.” “Then reflexes.” “You specifically asked about those.” “Still cheating.” Kessa laughed. Mandi kissed her while she was laughing. That stopped it. For several seconds. Then Kessa reversed them. Mandi found herself against one of the padded walls. Not trapped. Simply there. Kessa stopped immediately. Mandi looked at her. “Still yes.” “Good.” Mandi reached up and touched one ear. Kessa’s eyes closed briefly. Mandi smiled. Then the fox woman opened them again. “Responsible.” “I remember.” The touch stayed gentle. The kiss did not. They moved away from the wall. Back toward the open floor. Neither clearly leading for long. That became the dynamic. One moved. The other answered. One tried something. The other changed it. Neither appeared remotely interested in surrendering the initiative permanently. Eventually Kessa’s hands found Mandi’s gown. Stopped. Mandi laughed. “Here we go.” “Fast-drop?” “Unfortunately famous.” “May I?” “Yes.” Kessa found the release. The gown opened. Mandi caught one side. Kessa caught the other. There was no chair. They looked around. Mandi’s smile became radiant. “Oh, finally.” Kessa blinked. “What?” Mandi threw the gown. It landed directly on the padded floor. Perfectly. She raised both fists. “Yes!” Kessa stared. “What the hell?” “You wouldn’t understand.” “Lena?” Mandi froze. Then pointed accusingly. “Everyone knows too much.” Kessa laughed. Mandi stepped close again. “Still?” “Yes.” Kessa touched her waist. “Mandi?” “Yes?” “Still?” Mandi’s smile softened. “Very.” The play resumed. But now with less distance. Touch more direct. Kisses lasting longer. The constant circling gradually giving way to a shared decision that they wanted something more sustained than teasing. Mandi guided Kessa toward the center of the padded floor. Then stopped. Looked down. Looked at Kessa. “Okay.” “That sounded uncertain.” “Not uncertain.” She gestured vaguely between them. “Planning.” “Geometry?” “Everyone knows that word too?” “I heard about Bram.” Mandi closed her eyes. “I hate this party.” “No, you don’t.” “No.” She opened them. “I really don’t.” Kessa smiled. They lowered themselves to the padded floor. The first positioning attempt worked physically. Mandi rejected it anyway. “No.” Kessa immediately moved back. “Bad?” “Boring.” Kessa stared. Then laughed. “That is not the feedback I expected.” Mandi shifted. Tried another arrangement. Kessa followed. Mandi considered it. “Better.” “Comfortable?” “Yes.” “You?” Kessa adjusted slightly. Then nodded. “Yes.” Mandi moved closer. Stopped. Looked directly at her. “Still?” “Yes.” Kessa smiled. “You?” Mandi pulled her closer. “Yes.” The moment sex began was unmistakable. Mandi’s breath caught. Her expression changed. Kessa stopped immediately. Mandi stayed still. Adjusted. One hand against Kessa’s shoulder. The other on the padded floor. She breathed. Then smiled. “Okay.” “Slow?” “For about thirty seconds.” Kessa laughed. “Ambitious.” “Start.” Kessa moved. Slowly. Mandi inhaled. Stayed. Another movement. Mandi shifted. “Again.” The rhythm began. Controlled. Careful enough for both to settle into it. Mandi watched Kessa. Kessa watched her. Then Mandi adjusted. Faster. Kessa matched her. Mandi’s eyebrows rose. She changed again. Kessa followed. Mandi laughed breathlessly. “Oh, fuck you.” “That is currently the plan.” Mandi almost lost the rhythm laughing. “Dalia would like you.” “Maybe later.” Mandi looked at her. The answer was so casual— so entirely consistent with the evening— that she laughed again. Then Kessa moved differently. Mandi stopped laughing. A sharp breath. Her hand tightened. Kessa noticed instantly. “That?” Mandi’s eyes narrowed. “Again.” Kessa repeated it. Mandi’s head tipped slightly. “Yes.” The game changed. Still playful. But focused now. Mandi found a rhythm she liked. Kessa answered. This encounter never settled into one fixed geometry. They kept shifting, answering, adjusting. Mandi shifted. Kessa followed. Kessa changed angle. Mandi answered. Rust-red fur against pale skin. Neon-orange hair sweeping across Mandi’s face. Kessa’s tail moving behind her whenever concentration slipped. Mandi noticed it once. Then again. “You lose tail control when you like something.” Kessa stared. “I do not.” The tail flicked hard. Mandi laughed. “Oh, you absolutely do.” Kessa retaliated immediately. Changed the rhythm. Mandi’s laugh collapsed into a sharp sound. Kessa smiled. “And you stop talking.” Mandi glared. Then the rhythm hit again. Her eyes closed. Kessa laughed softly. “Exactly.” Mandi pulled her closer. “Do that again.” Kessa did. The build came quickly from there. Not because either rushed. Because both had spent enough time learning each other that they knew exactly where the useful reactions were. Mandi’s breathing shortened. Her movements became less playful. More urgent. Kessa stayed with her. Mandi shifted once. Found an even better angle. Her entire expression changed. “There.” Kessa held it. Mandi’s grip tightened. Black eyes closing. Orange hair falling loose across her face. Her body gradually drawing tighter. Mandi’s progression stayed readable in every step. Breath. Movement. Tension. The moment Mandi stopped directing because she no longer needed to. Kessa maintained exactly what had been working. Mandi’s breathing broke. Then stopped. Her whole body held. One suspended beat. Then climax hit. A fractured sound escaped her. Her grip tightened around Kessa. Her body shuddered. Once. Again. The tension released in waves. Kessa slowed. Mandi stayed close. Breathing hard. Eyes closed. No interruption. No immediate reset. Mandi’s forehead dropped against Kessa’s shoulder. For several seconds neither moved beyond breathing. Then Mandi felt it. Kessa was still tense. Very tense. Mandi opened her eyes. Kessa’s hazel ones were closed. Her breathing remained rough. Tail almost completely still now. Mandi smiled. “Interesting.” Kessa opened one eye. “What?” “The tail stopped.” “Fuck you.” “That means I’m right.” “It means I’m concentrating.” “On?” Kessa stared. Mandi’s grin widened. “Oh.” Kessa kissed her before she could say anything else. Mandi laughed into it. Then softened. The kiss became slower. She adjusted herself. Sensitive. Not finished with the encounter. “Still?” Kessa asked first. Mandi nodded. “Yes.” “You comfortable?” “Give me a second.” Kessa waited. Mandi shifted. Tested the position. Then: “Good.” She looked at Kessa. “You?” “Yes.” “You want to keep going?” “Yes.” Mandi smiled. “Then stop concentrating so much.” Kessa laughed breathlessly. “Bossy.” “My lover is Dalia.” “That explains everything.” “Exactly.” The rhythm returned. Slower initially. Mandi reacted but stayed with it. Then adjusted. Kessa followed. This time Mandi was watching her. Not chasing anything for herself. Reading. Kessa’s breath deepened. The tail began moving again. Then stopped. Mandi smiled but did not tease. Kessa’s shoulders tightened. Her movements became less precise. Mandi touched one ear. Carefully. Kessa’s whole expression fractured. Mandi immediately stopped. “Too much?” Kessa shook her head. “No.” “Again?” A breath. “Yes.” Mandi touched it again. Gentle. Responsible. Exactly what Kessa had asked for earlier. The reaction ran through her visibly. Breathing breaking. Rhythm faltering. Mandi stayed with her. “Good?” “Yes.” Kessa’s answer came rougher now. Mandi drew closer. Kessa’s progression became the clearest thing in the room. Her body tightening. The ears gradually pinning back. Tail rigid behind her. Hands gripping Mandi. Movement losing precision. No attempt to hide the loss of control. Mandi watched her. Stayed present. “Still?” “Yes.” “Close?” Kessa nodded. Mandi smiled softly. “Good.” The rhythm slipped again. Kessa inhaled sharply. Her whole body tightened. One final attempt at control— gone. Movement stopped. Breath held. Then climax hit. Kessa’s arms tightened around Mandi. A low broken sound escaped her. Her body shuddered. Tail snapping rigid behind her. Then another visible wave. Mandi held her through it. One hand at the back of Kessa’s neck. The other resting carefully below one ear. Kessa exhaled hard. Long. The tension gradually disappeared. Tail relaxing last. Mandi noticed. Smiled. Said nothing. Not yet. The rhythm was gone. Then movement. Then urgency. Nothing left but contact. They stayed together on the padded floor. Kessa curled partly against Mandi. Mandi wrapped both arms around her. Breathing slowed. One fox ear rested against neon-orange hair. No score. No jokes. Not until both were genuinely coming back down. Eventually Kessa murmured: “Say it.” Mandi smiled. “Say what?” “The tail.” Mandi laughed softly. “I was going to be nice.” “No, you weren’t.” “No.” Kessa opened one eye. Mandi touched the edge of the ear. “You absolutely lose control of it.” Kessa sighed. “Apparently.” “Adorable.” “Careful.” “What?” “I know where your lovers are.” Mandi grinned. “Threat or promise?” Kessa stared. Then both started laughing. They stayed there another minute. Mandi eventually looked toward the abandoned gown. Still on the floor. She smiled with deep satisfaction. “Perfect.” Kessa followed her gaze. “I still don’t understand.” “You don’t need to.” “Five?” Mandi looked back. Then held up five fingers. “Five.” Kessa laughed. “You really are going to win this, aren’t you?” Mandi’s expression became innocent. “It isn’t a competition.” Kessa stared. Mandi lasted three seconds. Then grinned. --- The shared areas had changed while they were gone. Not dramatically. Naturally. The party had simply reached the point where nobody needed to pretend it was still mostly cocktails and conversation. Two sculpt partners were tangled together on one of the broad rugs. Another pair occupied half a sofa, clearly unconcerned with the audience. Near the terrace, Sable and another sculpt were locked in a long kiss that had already moved well beyond casual flirting. No one stared. No one performed for the room unless that was what they wanted. Conversation continued around it. Drinks changed hands. Someone had brought out another tray of food. The evening had become exactly what Elisa had described before it began. Very sexual. Still social. Still safe. Still theirs. Mandi emerged from the hallway. Her gown had been restored. Eventually. Her hair looked even worse than before. Dalia saw her first. Elisa followed. Mandi raised one hand. Five fingers. Elisa gasped theatrically. Dalia closed her eyes. “No.” Mandi walked toward them with the slow confidence of someone who had absolutely earned the number. “Five.” Elisa raised four. Dalia raised four. Mandi smiled. “Interesting.” Dalia pointed at her. “Do not start.” “I am merely observing the data.” Elisa laughed. Mandi reached them. Elisa immediately wrapped both arms around her. Mandi melted into it with considerably less dignity than her entrance had suggested. Elisa kissed her. Slow. Warm. Then looked at her. “Good?” Mandi smiled. “Very.” Dalia stepped close. Straightened Mandi’s collar. Attempted to repair the hair. Failed. Mandi smiled. “You love me.” “Unfortunately.” Mandi kissed her. Dalia answered. Long enough that Elisa slipped one arm around both. When they separated, Mandi held up five fingers directly between them. Dalia stared. “You have become deeply irritating.” “Become?” Elisa laughed. Then looked at Dalia. Mandi followed. Dalia saw both faces. “No.” Elisa smiled. “You’re behind.” “By one.” Mandi nodded solemnly. “Tragic.” Dalia took the menthol lollipop from her mouth. “You do realize that if I go to five—” “Then I go to six.” Silence. Elisa looked at Mandi. Then Dalia. Dalia slowly smiled. There it was. Not irritation. Challenge. Mandi’s grin widened. Elisa looked between her lovers. “Oh, this is bad.” Dalia handed her lollipop case to Elisa. Elisa accepted it. “Five?” Dalia looked across the room. Someone looked back. Interest obvious. Dalia smiled. “Five.” Mandi settled against Elisa. Far too pleased with herself. Dalia started walking. Then stopped. Looked back. Raised five fingers. Mandi shouted: “PREMATURE!” Half the room laughed. Dalia smiled. Then continued. Elisa looked down at Mandi. “You created this.” Mandi leaned into her. “Yes.” “Proud?” “Extremely.” And for the second time that evening— Dalia was hunting. --- ## Chapter 13 — Five, Properly Dalia was hunting. That was the phrase Elisa had used. Dalia would have objected. Strongly. Except she had already crossed half the room toward someone with enough purpose that objection would have been dishonest. Mandi watched from the sofa. Elisa sat beside her. Mandi leaned against Elisa with one arm around her waist. Both watched Dalia. “She’s absolutely hunting.” Elisa nodded. “Yes.” Mandi smiled. “I’m so proud.” “You should probably be afraid.” “That too.” Across the room, Dalia stopped. Her choice looked almost human at first glance. Almost. Female. Tall. Lean. Dark bronze skin across the areas the sculpt had left human-presenting. The rest was feline-inspired, but not panther, lion, or anything Mandi or Dalia had already encountered. Serval. Long limbs. Large ears. Fine golden coat patterned with dark spots. A short tail. The sculpt exaggerated balance and spring rather than mass. The woman stood with the easy posture of someone who could probably move much faster than the room required. Her eyes remained human. Dark brown. Calm. Very aware. Beside her stood another woman with cropped black hair and a red dress. Dalia stopped in front of them. The serval smiled. “Pink dreadlocks.” Dalia removed the menthol lollipop. “Serval ears.” The other woman laughed. “Excellent start.” Dalia smiled. “I’m Dalia.” “Naomi.” The serval gestured toward the woman beside her. “And Tess.” Tess lifted her glass. “Hi.” Dalia looked between them. “Partners?” Naomi nodded. “Sometimes.” Tess added: “Close friends always.” Dalia liked the answer. “Simple?” Both women laughed. “No,” Naomi said. “Good.” That made all three of them smile. Dalia looked at the sculpt properly. Long legs. Light build. Almost no wasted bulk. The ears were the most visually arresting feature. Too large to ignore. Expressive too. One angled toward Dalia as she shifted. Dalia noticed. “Full control?” “Yes.” “Hearing enhanced?” “Yes.” “Balance?” Naomi smiled. “Very.” “Reflexes?” “Also very.” From across the room Mandi called: “THAT SOUNDS FAMILIAR.” Dalia closed her eyes. Naomi laughed. Tess looked across the room. “The orange one?” “My lover.” “And Elisa?” “My lover.” Tess nodded. “Right.” Dalia raised an eyebrow. “That was quick.” “You three are not subtle.” “We have been informed.” Naomi smiled. “You’re at four.” Dalia stared. Silence. Then Mandi started laughing from the sofa. Dalia looked toward her. Mandi held up five fingers. Dalia raised one finger. The middle one. Elisa folded against Mandi laughing. Naomi watched the exchange. Then looked back at Dalia. “You really are counting.” “No.” “You absolutely are.” Dalia considered lying. Then sighed. “Only because they are intolerable.” “Of course.” Tess leaned closer to Naomi. “Want me nearby?” Naomi thought about it. Then shook her head. “No.” Tess nodded. They kissed. Easy. Familiar. No drama. When they separated, Tess touched Naomi’s arm. “Message if you need me.” “I will.” Tess looked at Dalia. “You good?” “Yes.” “Good.” Then she walked away. Dalia watched her go. Naomi noticed. “You approve.” “I like people who ask without turning the question into ceremony.” Naomi smiled. “So do I.” Dalia looked back at her. Then stepped closer. Not touching yet. “May I?” Naomi’s eyes moved toward her hand. Dalia gestured toward one of the large ears. “Yes.” Dalia touched it lightly. Naomi’s reaction was immediate but subtle. A breath. A tiny shift of posture. One ear angling back. Dalia smiled. “Sensitive.” “Yes.” “How much?” Naomi’s eyes narrowed slightly. “Enough that I’ll tell you if you’re annoying me.” Dalia laughed. “Excellent.” She moved her fingers once along the outer edge. Naomi stayed still. Then leaned into the touch. Dalia noticed. “Useful.” Naomi closed her eyes. “Everyone warned me about that word.” “Of course they did.” Dalia stepped closer. Naomi did too. The first kiss was slow. Very slow. No test of dominance. No rush. Just immediate compatibility. Dalia’s hand remained near the serval ear. Naomi’s rested lightly at her waist. They separated. Looked at each other. Dalia smiled. “Still?” “Yes.” Naomi’s fingers tightened slightly. “You?” “Yes.” That was enough. The second kiss lasted longer. Naomi’s hand moved around Dalia’s back. Dalia pulled closer. The sculpt’s long-limbed proportions made the contact feel different. Less weight. More tension. More balance. Dalia liked it. She broke the kiss. “Private?” Naomi smiled. “Yes.” Dalia returned the lollipop to its case. Naomi looked at it. “That serious?” “You haven’t earned it.” Naomi laughed. “Yet.” Dalia’s eyebrow rose. “Good answer.” They started toward the hallway. Mandi shouted: “FIVE!” Dalia did not turn. “Fuck you.” Mandi’s laughter followed her. --- The room Naomi chose was narrow. Long. One low bed against the wall. A padded window seat running almost the length of the opposite side. Dalia walked in. Looked around. Naomi closed the door. Then leaned against it. Dalia turned. “You planned this.” “No.” “You look too pleased.” “I like your face.” “That is not an answer.” “It’s the important part.” Dalia smiled. Then crossed the room toward her. Naomi pushed away from the door. They met halfway. The kiss returned. This time neither was patient. Not rushed. Just certain. Dalia’s hands moved around Naomi’s neck. Naomi’s settled at her waist. Dalia touched one ear again. Naomi’s breath changed. But Naomi retaliated immediately. Her fingers tightened along Dalia’s side. Dalia’s kiss broke. A breath. Naomi smiled. “Oh.” Dalia stared. “Do not.” “You started it.” “That is irrelevant.” Naomi laughed. Dalia kissed her again. The dynamic established itself almost instantly. Every time one gained a little control— the other answered. Not conflict. Play. Dalia moved Naomi backward. Naomi let her. Then turned them before they reached the wall. Dalia laughed. “You’re annoying.” “You like me.” “Unfortunately.” Naomi kissed her. “Yes.” The next few minutes became movement more than conversation. Across the room. Toward the window seat. Back. A kiss interrupted by laughter. Another becoming serious enough that neither remembered the joke. Naomi’s enhanced balance showed constantly. Not theatrically. Just in the way she moved. Quick adjustments. Effortless shifts. Dalia noticed every one. Then Naomi’s hands found the sides of the gown. Stopped. Dalia smiled. “You know.” “Fast-drop.” “Everyone knows.” “May I?” Dalia took Naomi’s hand. Guided it to the release. “Yes.” The gown opened. Clean. Fast. Dalia caught one section. Naomi caught another. They looked toward the nearest chair. There wasn’t one. Only the window seat. Dalia folded the gown carefully and placed it at the far end. Naomi watched. “Mandi throws hers.” “Mandi is uncivilized.” From somewhere beyond the wall came no answer. Dalia smiled. “Finally.” Naomi laughed. Then stepped closer. Dalia met her. No gown now. No lollipop. No buffer. The kiss became slower again. More deliberate. Naomi touched Dalia’s face. Dalia leaned into it. Then: “Still?” “Yes.” “Very?” “Yes.” Dalia smiled. “Good.” Naomi’s ears shifted. Dalia watched them. Then touched one again. Naomi inhaled sharply. Dalia’s smile widened. Naomi immediately moved. Fast. Dalia found herself turned gently toward the padded window seat. Not pushed. Guided. She looked back at Naomi. “That was deliberate.” “Yes.” “Good.” Naomi sat first. Dalia remained standing. Looked at the arrangement. Then at her. “Interesting.” Naomi smiled. “You like control.” “Yes.” “So do I.” Dalia laughed softly. “Better.” She stepped closer. Naomi rested both hands at her waist. Dalia tested the height. Position. Distance. Then shifted. Not right. Naomi waited. Dalia adjusted again. Better. She looked down. “Comfortable?” “Yes.” “You?” Dalia changed one small angle. Then smiled. “Yes.” She moved closer. Naomi’s hands tightened slightly. Dalia paused. “Still?” “Yes.” Naomi looked up. “You?” “Yes.” The moment sex began was unmistakable. Dalia’s breath caught. Her body stopped. One hand tightened against Naomi’s shoulder. The other braced against the window frame. Naomi froze. Dalia breathed. Slow. Eyes closed. Then opened them. “Okay.” “Slow?” “Yes.” Naomi moved carefully. Dalia inhaled sharply. Stayed. Another deliberate movement. Dalia adjusted. “Again.” The rhythm began. Measured. Controlled. But not entirely by Dalia. That was new. Naomi responded to every change without merely following. When Dalia altered pace— Naomi answered. When Naomi changed angle— Dalia decided whether to keep it. A conversation without needing many words. Their positions kept both faces readable. Dalia upright. Naomi below her. Pink dreadlocks falling forward. Golden spotted fur under Dalia’s hands. Naomi’s large ears shifting with every change in breath. Dalia touched one. Naomi reacted immediately. Then smiled. “Again.” Dalia’s eyebrows rose. She repeated it. Naomi’s breath broke. Dalia liked that. Too much. Naomi knew. Her smile widened. Then she changed the rhythm. Dalia’s composure cracked instantly. A low breath escaped. Naomi watched her. “There.” Dalia stared down. “You’re becoming intolerable.” “Your lovers seem to enjoy it.” Dalia laughed. Then Naomi repeated the change. The laughter disappeared. Dalia’s hand tightened. “That.” Naomi stayed there. The rhythm built. Dalia moved with it. More confidently now. The constant shift of control became the center of the encounter. Neither simply receiving. Neither permanently leading. Dalia changed the pace. Naomi matched. Naomi changed the angle. Dalia accepted it. Then altered it again. Every adjustment mutually read. Mutually answered. Every adjustment remained mutual and visible in their responses. Dalia’s breathing deepened. Naomi’s becoming rougher too. Dalia’s posture gradually losing its elegance. Naomi’s ears pinning back in concentration. The rhythm strengthened. Dalia’s fingers moved into the short fur at Naomi’s shoulder. Her eyes closed. Then opened. Naomi was watching. Dalia smiled faintly. “You’re close too.” Naomi breathed out. “Yes.” That changed Dalia’s expression. Interested. Focused. They were building together now. Not perfectly synchronized. Close enough to feel each other approaching it. Dalia shifted. Naomi reacted. A sharp breath. Naomi moved. Dalia’s answer came immediately. “Again.” Naomi repeated it. Dalia’s head tipped back. Her breathing shortened. Her movements became less precise. Naomi’s did too. Both progressions remained equally clear. Dalia’s shoulders tightening. Naomi’s hands gripping harder. Dalia’s body drawing gradually taut. Naomi’s breath breaking. One ear flattening back completely. Dalia opened her eyes. “Still?” Naomi nodded. “Yes.” “You?” Naomi managed: “Very.” Dalia smiled. Then Naomi asked: “You?” “Yes.” The rhythm continued. Less perfect now. More instinctive. Dalia stopped trying to control every detail. Naomi stopped trying to anticipate every response. They simply moved together. Dalia’s breath caught. Held. Her whole body tightened. At almost the same moment Naomi’s control visibly collapsed too. But not quite. Dalia reached climax first. A low fractured sound escaped her. Her grip tightened around Naomi. Her body shuddered. Once. Again. The tension released through her in waves. Naomi slowed instinctively— but Dalia’s hand caught her shoulder. “No.” Naomi looked up. Dalia was breathing hard. Eyes half closed. Still present. “Don’t stop because of me.” Naomi searched her face. “You sure?” Dalia nodded. “Yes.” Sensitive. Very. But deliberate. “Finish.” Naomi’s expression changed. The remaining control broke quickly. The rhythm resumed. Not perfectly. Dalia adjusted enough to stay comfortable. Stayed with her. Watched. Naomi’s breathing became rough. Shoulders tightening. Hands gripping. Her ears pinned back now. Tail rigid. Every movement less precise than the last. Dalia touched the side of her face. “Good?” “Yes.” “Still?” “Yes.” Naomi inhaled sharply. Her whole body went taut. Movement stopped. One suspended beat. Then climax hit. A broken sound escaped her. Her arms tightened around Dalia. Her body shuddered hard. Once. Again. The tension released in visible waves. Dalia held her. One arm around Naomi’s shoulders. The other resting against the side of her face. No teasing. No score. No victory. Just staying. Naomi exhaled. Long. Shaking. Then went completely still. Dalia remained close. Neither separated. Breathing slowing. Foreheads touching. Naomi’s ears gradually relaxing. Dalia’s hands loosening. The room quiet around them. No need to move. No need to speak. After a while Naomi smiled. Dalia felt it. “What?” “Five.” Dalia closed her eyes. Naomi started laughing. Dalia did too. “You people are obsessed.” “You’re the one competing.” “I am not competing.” “You just climbed onto me to tie your lover.” Dalia opened her eyes. “That sentence will never leave this room.” Naomi laughed harder. Dalia kissed her. Softly. Then stayed close. Another minute passed. Maybe two. Eventually Naomi touched one pink dreadlock. “Worth it?” Dalia smiled. “Very.” “You?” “Very.” “Good.” Dalia looked toward her gown. Still perfectly placed. Naturally. Naomi followed her gaze. “Mandi’s would be on the floor.” “Yes.” “You love her.” “Very much.” “And Elisa.” Dalia smiled. “Yes.” Naomi’s expression softened. “No ranking?” Dalia looked at her. “No ranking.” “Except tonight.” Dalia stared. Then groaned. “You ruined it.” Naomi laughed. Dalia did too. --- Mandi saw Dalia emerge. Immediately sat up. Elisa was faster. She raised five fingers. Dalia stopped. Looked at her. Then slowly raised five. Mandi pointed. “You did it.” Dalia walked toward them. Calm. Elegant. Moving absolutely normally. Almost. Mandi’s grin widened. Dalia pointed back. “Do not.” “I didn’t say anything.” “You never need to.” Elisa stood first. Reached Dalia. Wrapped both arms around her. Dalia relaxed into the embrace immediately. Elisa kissed her. Slow. Warm. When they separated: “Good?” Dalia smiled. “Very.” Mandi stood. A little more carefully than she would have at the beginning of the evening. Dalia noticed. Said nothing. Mandi wrapped both arms around her. Dalia held her. Mandi kissed her. Long. Unhurried. Elisa joined them naturally, one arm around each. Three lovers standing together in the middle of an increasingly indecent party. No center. No hierarchy. No one waiting for a turn. When the kiss finally broke, Mandi raised five fingers. Dalia raised five. Elisa raised four. Mandi looked at Elisa. Elisa smiled. “I’m done.” Dalia nodded immediately. “Good.” No challenge. No attempt to pull her back into it. Elisa had chosen four. Four was enough. Mandi looked at Dalia. Dalia looked at Mandi. Five. Five. Elisa saw the look pass between them. “Oh, no.” Mandi smiled. “What?” “You both have the same face.” Dalia put the menthol lollipop back into her mouth. “I have no idea what you mean.” “Yes, you do.” Mandi leaned against Elisa. “Five is a nice number.” Dalia nodded. “Very balanced.” “Elegant.” “Exactly.” Elisa stared at them. “You’re both lying.” Mandi’s grin widened. Dalia’s did too. Elisa looked from one lover to the other. Then started laughing. “You are absolutely going to do this.” Mandi tilted her head. “Do what?” “Break the tie.” Dalia removed the lollipop. “I certainly am not.” Mandi looked at her. Dalia looked back. Silence. Then Mandi smiled. “Good.” Elisa closed her eyes. “Oh, fuck.” Mandi looked across the room. Not hurried. Not desperate. Just curious. Still enough people. Still enough evening. Still enough appetite. Her black eyes settled on someone. Dalia followed the gaze. Then slowly smiled. Elisa looked too. Saw the expression on Mandi’s face. And knew. Mandi was going for six. Dalia leaned toward Elisa. Very quietly: “She is unbearable.” Elisa smiled. “You love her.” Dalia watched Mandi start walking. “Yes.” Then added: “Unfortunately.” Mandi heard. Of course. Without turning, she raised one hand. Six fingers would have been difficult. So she simply raised five— and then one finger on the other hand. Elisa burst out laughing. Dalia covered her face. And the tie was already doomed. --- ## Chapter 14 — Six Mandi crossed the room. Five fingers on one hand. One on the other. Behind her, Elisa was still laughing. Dalia was not. Dalia had seen where Mandi was going. “Oh, no.” Elisa recovered enough to look. “What?” Dalia pointed. Elisa followed the direction. Saw. Stopped laughing. A beat. Then: “Oh.” Dalia sighed. “Exactly.” Elisa looked at her. Then back at Mandi. “Did she notice—” “Yes.” “All of them?” “Yes.” “And she’s going to—” “Yes.” Elisa started laughing again. Dalia put the menthol lollipop back into her mouth. “Of course she is.” --- The sculpt was difficult to categorize from a distance. Up close— impossible to misunderstand. Octopus-inspired. Human torso. Human face. Human eyes. Human arms. And beneath that— additional limbs. Not decorative. Not crude imitations. A sophisticated full-body biosculpt integrated them into the nervous remap as naturally as technology allowed. Dark blue-grey skin shifted subtly toward violet under the apartment lighting. The additional limbs moved independently. Slowly. Casually. One rested against the side of a chair. Another curled loosely beneath it. A third held a drink. Mandi stopped. Stared. The woman in the sculpt looked at her. Then smiled. “You’re trying very hard not to ask.” Mandi pointed. “You can control all of those?” The woman laughed. “Hello to you too.” Mandi closed her eyes. “Sorry.” She opened them. “Mandi.” “I know.” “Of course.” The woman extended one human hand. “Lyra.” Mandi took it. Then looked down again. One of the additional limbs shifted. Mandi’s eyes followed it. Lyra laughed. “You can look.” “I am looking.” “Very intensely.” “I have questions.” “I noticed.” A man sitting beside Lyra raised his glass. “Anton.” Mandi looked at him. “Partner?” Lyra answered herself. “Friend. Occasional lover.” Anton nodded. “And designated rescuer when she forgets she has more limbs than doorways.” Lyra pointed one of them at him. “That happened once.” “Three times.” “One weekend.” Mandi laughed. Then looked at Lyra again. “Full independent control?” “Yes.” “All of them?” “Yes.” “At the same time?” Lyra smiled. “Yes.” Mandi stared. One additional limb lifted. Another remained holding the glass. A third curled loosely around the chair leg. A fourth tapped Anton on the shoulder. Anton looked at it. Then at Mandi. “You’ve made a terrible mistake.” Mandi’s black eyes were enormous. “This is amazing.” Lyra laughed. Mandi crouched slightly to look more closely at one of the moving limbs. Stopped herself before touching. Looked up. “May I?” Lyra considered. Then extended one toward her. “Yes.” Mandi touched it. Carefully. The surface was smooth. Warm. Not fur. Not scales. Not anything else she had encountered tonight. The limb curled slightly around her wrist. Mandi froze. Looked down. Then up. Lyra smiled. Mandi’s entire face lit. “Oh, fuck.” Anton started laughing. From across the room Dalia closed her eyes. Elisa leaned against her. “She found something.” “She found several somethings.” Mandi touched the limb again. It responded. Not automatically. Lyra was controlling it. Mandi realized that. Her expression became even more fascinated. “You felt that.” “Yes.” “And you moved this deliberately.” “Yes.” “While holding the drink with that one.” “Yes.” “And talking to me.” “Yes.” Mandi stared. Lyra smiled. “Still have questions?” “Approximately nine thousand.” “That many?” “I’m estimating.” Anton stood. “I’m getting another drink.” Lyra looked at him. “You abandoning me?” “Absolutely.” She laughed. Anton leaned down. Kissed her. Brief. Familiar. Then: “You good?” “Yes.” He looked at Mandi. “You?” Mandi smiled. “Extremely.” “That is what worries me.” He walked away. Mandi watched him go. Then looked at Lyra. “Occasional lover?” “Yes.” “Nice.” “He is.” Lyra tilted her head. “And the pink one?” Mandi smiled. “My lover.” “The heiress?” “My lover.” “No hierarchy?” Mandi blinked. Then smiled. “No.” Lyra nodded. “Good.” Mandi looked back at the additional limb still loosely curled around her wrist. “You’re still doing that.” “Yes.” “Why?” “You haven’t moved away.” Mandi’s smile softened. “Good answer.” She stepped closer instead. The limb released her wrist immediately. Mandi noticed that too. Another point in Lyra’s favor. She looked directly at her. “May I kiss you?” “Yes.” Mandi leaned in. Lyra met her halfway. The kiss started normally. Almost suspiciously normally. Then something touched Mandi lightly at the waist. She broke the kiss. Looked down. One additional limb. Resting there. Nothing more. Mandi looked at Lyra. “You did that.” “Yes.” “Deliberately.” “Yes.” Mandi smiled. “Again.” Lyra laughed. Mandi kissed her. This time she expected the extra contact. What she did not expect— was another limb settling lightly against her shoulder from the opposite side. Mandi stopped kissing. Looked left. Then right. Then at Lyra. “This is completely unfair.” “Want me to stop?” Mandi answered instantly. “No.” Lyra smiled. “Good.” Mandi kissed her again. Longer. Two additional points of contact remained. Neither restrictive. Neither assuming. Simply there. Mandi’s hands moved around Lyra’s neck. One additional limb shifted away as she moved. Another adjusted. Mandi felt it happen. Her curiosity became almost visible. She broke the kiss. “Private.” Lyra raised an eyebrow. “Question?” Mandi corrected herself. “Would you like to go somewhere private?” “Yes.” Mandi grinned. Then turned toward her lovers. Elisa was already holding up six fingers the only practical way she could— five on one hand. One on the other. Mandi pointed at her. “Yes!” Dalia took the lollipop from her mouth. “Premature.” Mandi stared. Then laughed. “I love you.” “I know.” Mandi looked at Lyra. “She’s bitter.” “I heard that.” “Come on.” --- The private room had a bed. A sofa. Two chairs. Plenty of space. Mandi walked inside. Then stopped. Looked around. Looked at Lyra. Then looked at all the additional limbs. “Okay.” Lyra closed the door. “What?” “Doorway.” Lyra stared. Then started laughing. “Anton told you.” “He warned me.” “I fit.” “Good.” “Usually.” Mandi laughed. Then crossed the room toward her. Lyra met her. The kiss resumed immediately. Mandi had learned enough now not to be surprised by the first additional touch. One at her waist. Another along her back. Then a third briefly at her forearm. Each moved independently. Mandi broke the kiss anyway. Not because anything was wrong. Because her brain was visibly trying to keep up. Lyra smiled. “Too much?” Mandi thought. Actually thought. Then: “Not too much.” “Want fewer?” “No.” “Want slower?” Mandi smiled. “Yes.” Lyra nodded. Immediately, the movement changed. Not less contact. Less simultaneous novelty. One limb moved. Stopped. Another followed. Mandi tracked them. Adjusted. Learned. “That’s better.” “Good.” Mandi touched one. Then another. Learning Lyra in return. Not treating the sculpt like equipment. Not treating the additional limbs as toys detached from the person controlling them. Every reaction still belonged to Lyra. Every movement came from her. Mandi looked into her eyes. “Still good?” “Yes.” “You?” “Very.” Mandi smiled. The kiss returned. Slower. Better. One additional limb settled around Mandi’s waist. Loose. Mandi tested it by shifting backward. It released instantly. She moved forward again. Lyra smiled. “You tested me.” “Yes.” “Pass?” Mandi put both hands around her face. “Very much.” Then kissed her. The fast-drop came several minutes later. Lyra found the edge of Mandi’s gown with one human hand. Stopped. Mandi noticed. “Yes.” “May I?” “Yes.” Lyra found the release. The gown surrendered. Mandi caught none of it. Lyra caught none of it. An additional limb caught it halfway down. Mandi stared. The limb lifted the entire gown. Moved across the room. Deposited it perfectly across the back of a chair. Mandi watched. Silence. Lyra smiled. “What?” Mandi pointed at the chair. “You have got to be fucking kidding me.” Lyra laughed. “What did I do?” “Lena wins again.” “That explains nothing.” “Nothing explains Lena.” Mandi looked at the dress. Then at Lyra. Then sighed. “Fine.” She stepped closer. “Still yes?” “Yes.” Lyra touched her face. “You?” Mandi smiled. “Absolutely.” They moved toward the bed. Then stopped. Mandi looked at it. Looked at Lyra. Looked at the additional limbs. Her expression changed. Lyra recognized it. “Geometry.” Mandi pointed. “See? Everyone knows.” “Your reputation arrived before you.” “Apparently.” Mandi sat on the edge of the bed. Lyra remained standing. One additional limb rested lightly beside Mandi. Another against the mattress. Mandi watched both. Then looked up. “How much weight can they take?” “Enough.” “Useful.” Lyra laughed. “There it is.” Mandi shifted. Tried one arrangement. Paused. “No.” Lyra immediately backed away. “Wrong?” “Not wrong.” Mandi thought. “Too ordinary.” Lyra stared at her. Then smiled. “You really did choose me because this was weird.” Mandi looked almost offended. “I chose you because you’re interesting.” “The limbs helped.” “Obviously.” Lyra laughed. Mandi reached for her. “Come here.” Lyra moved closer. They tried again. This time one additional limb gave Mandi another point of support. She tested it. Shifted. The limb adjusted. Mandi’s eyebrows rose. “Oh.” “Better?” “Yes.” Another adjustment. Lyra changed position. Mandi followed. Then one of the additional limbs moved to stabilize Lyra herself. Mandi watched. “You’re doing three things at once.” “Four.” Mandi counted. Then laughed. “Fuck.” “Want to stop?” “No.” “Want to simplify?” Mandi considered. Then shook her head. “No.” Lyra smiled. “Good.” Mandi looked directly at her. “Slow.” “Yes.” The moment sex began was unmistakable. Mandi’s breath caught. Her grip tightened. One hand against Lyra. The other around an additional limb that had become a support point rather than a restraint. Lyra stopped. Everything stopped. All the additional movement too. Instantly. That impressed Mandi almost as much as anything else. She stayed still. Breathed. Adjusted. Then opened her eyes. “Okay.” “Sure?” “Yes.” “Slow?” “Yes.” Lyra moved. Carefully. Mandi inhaled. Stayed with it. Another movement. Mandi adjusted against the unusual support. Then nodded. “Again.” The rhythm began. Slow. Deliberate. The additional limbs did not turn it into chaos. Quite the opposite. Lyra used them with astonishing precision. One stabilizing herself. One supporting Mandi. Another resting lightly at Mandi’s side. A fourth doing nothing at all. Because it did not need to. Mandi noticed that. The restraint in the choice. Not using everything simply because it existed. Lyra’s body created an entirely new kind of complexity. Too many lines of movement. Too many points of contact. Not obstruction. Complexity. The geometry remained coherent because every additional limb had a clear purpose, while Mandi and Lyra kept finding each other’s eyes whenever expression mattered. Every additional movement still belonged visibly to the person controlling it. Mandi adjusted. Lyra followed. One supporting limb shifted. Mandi’s breath changed. She looked down. Then back up. “That.” Lyra repeated the adjustment. Mandi inhaled sharply. “Yes.” The rhythm strengthened. Mandi stopped trying to track every limb. That was the moment the encounter changed. Curiosity stopped being analysis. Became experience. She trusted Lyra to manage her own body. Lyra trusted Mandi to speak when something needed changing. Mandi’s breathing deepened. Her hands tightened. One additional limb moved lightly around her back. Mandi leaned into the support. Another shifted. Her eyes closed. Lyra noticed. “Good?” “Yes.” “Still?” “Very.” The rhythm built. Not fast. Layered. Every point of contact contributing without becoming overwhelming. Mandi moved with Lyra. Adjusted. Directed when she wanted something. Accepted when Lyra offered something that worked. One change did not. Mandi’s eyes opened. “No.” Everything stopped. Instantly. Lyra looked at her. “That one?” “Yes.” “Gone.” The limb moved away. No discussion. No disappointment. Mandi breathed. Then smiled. “Thank you.” Lyra kissed her. “Of course.” Mandi pulled her closer. “Continue.” The rhythm returned. Better. The interruption had not damaged anything. If anything— trust sharpened it. Mandi relaxed more. The build resumed. Breathing shortening. Movement becoming more urgent. Neon-orange hair falling across her face. Black eyes closing. One hand gripping Lyra’s shoulder. Another holding one of the additional limbs as it supported her. Lyra’s own breathing had changed too. Mandi noticed. Even through her own progression. “You’re close.” Lyra laughed breathlessly. “So are you.” “Yes.” That made Mandi smile. The rhythm strengthened. Mandi’s body gradually tightened. Lyra’s control remained extraordinary— but no longer effortless. The additional limbs revealed it first. One curled more tightly against the mattress. Another shifted, corrected, then settled. Mandi saw. “Oh.” Lyra breathed: “Do not start.” Mandi laughed once. Then the next movement broke the laugh apart. Her eyes closed. “Again.” Lyra repeated it. Mandi’s breathing shortened sharply. The build became obvious. No joke now. No field research. Just sensation. Her body drawing tighter. Movement becoming less controlled. Lyra stayed with the rhythm. Mandi held her. One breath. Another. Then one that stopped halfway. Her whole body went taut. Climax hit. Mandi’s breath returned in a broken sound. Her grip tightened. Her body shuddered. Once. Again. The additional support around her remained steady through every movement. Lyra slowed. Mandi folded closer. Breathing hard. Eyes closed. The peak passed. Then the aftershocks. Then the first release of tension. Lyra stayed with her. Mandi opened her eyes. Immediately looked at Lyra. Still breathing hard. Still tense. And now— the additional limbs were betraying her. One curled tightly against the bedding. Another held completely still. A third moved without the earlier precision, then stopped as Lyra regained control. Mandi smiled. “Oh, that is fascinating.” Lyra stared. “You are impossible.” “You’re not done.” “No.” “Still good?” “Yes.” “You want to keep going?” “Yes.” Mandi took a breath. Checked herself. Sensitive. Tired. Still wanting. She nodded. “Yes.” Lyra waited. Mandi adjusted. One support point changed with her. She tested it. “Good.” “You sure?” Mandi looked directly at her. “Yes.” The rhythm returned. Gentler first. Mandi stayed with it. Then gradually stronger. This time Lyra’s progression became the clearest thing in the room. Her face. Her breathing. And the sculpt itself becoming an involuntary map of her progression. Not because the limbs acted independently. Because Lyra controlled them— and maintaining perfect control was becoming harder. One tightened. Another flexed. The one supporting Mandi remained steady through obvious effort. Mandi noticed that too. She touched Lyra’s face. “You can let go.” Lyra breathed hard. “Not of that one.” Mandi smiled. “No.” A kiss. “Keep me safe.” “Yes.” “But the rest?” Lyra’s eyes closed. Mandi whispered: “Let go.” The change was immediate. Not violent. Not chaotic. Simply less controlled. Two additional limbs curled tightly against the bed. Another wrapped around Lyra’s own leg. The rhythm became less precise. More instinctive. Mandi stayed with her. “Still?” “Yes.” “Good.” Lyra’s breathing broke. Her shoulders tightened. Human hands gripping. Additional limbs responding with the same mounting tension. Mandi watched her. No teasing now. Just presence. Lyra’s rhythm faltered. Recovered. Faltered again. Mandi drew closer. “You’re there.” Lyra nodded. Barely. Mandi held her face. “Go.” Lyra’s breath stopped. Everything tightened. Human body. Sculpted body. Every line of tension converging at once. Then climax hit. Lyra’s breath tore loose. A low involuntary sound. Her whole body shuddered. The additional limbs tightened almost simultaneously— one against the bedding, one curling inward, another locking rigid for a second before releasing. The support around Mandi stayed safe. Even through the loss of everything else. Another shudder. Then another. Mandi held Lyra through it. One arm around her. One hand against her face. No jokes. No score. Lyra exhaled. Long. Shaking. The additional limbs gradually relaxed. One by one. Until the room became still. Completely. Mandi stayed close. Lyra remained against her. The extra limbs that had made the encounter look so impossibly complicated now simply settled around them. One loosely across the mattress. Another curled near Mandi without touching. One still resting gently around her waist. No restraint. Just contact. Breathing slowed. Mandi closed her eyes. Lyra rested her forehead against hers. For a long time neither spoke. The absurdity disappeared first. Then the competition. Then even the novelty. What remained was simply another person. Warm. Tired. Happy. Holding her. Eventually Mandi opened one eye. Lyra did too. Mandi whispered: “Six.” Lyra started laughing. Mandi joined her. The stillness broke without disappearing. Lyra touched her face. “You really waited until now?” “I have standards.” “That is not what your lovers said.” Mandi gasped. “Dalia has been spreading propaganda.” “Everyone has.” Mandi closed her eyes again. “Terrible party.” “You hate it?” Mandi smiled. “Best terrible party ever.” --- Elisa saw Mandi first. Dalia saw how she was walking. That told her everything. Mandi emerged from the hallway. Dress restored. Collar crooked. Hair beyond repair. Moving with the careful dignity of a woman whose body had begun submitting formal complaints several encounters ago. Elisa covered her mouth. Dalia sighed. Mandi approached. Said nothing. Raised five fingers. Then one. Elisa exploded. Not laughed. Exploded. She folded against Dalia. Dalia caught her. Mandi stood in front of them looking unbearably pleased. “Six.” Dalia looked at the hands. Then at Mandi. “You are ridiculous.” “Yes.” “You were already ridiculous.” “Yes.” “This has made it worse.” “Yes.” Elisa was still laughing. Mandi looked at her. “You encouraged me.” “I know.” “This is your fault.” “I know.” Dalia removed the lollipop. “You chose an octopus.” Mandi looked offended. “Lyra.” Dalia’s expression softened immediately. “Yes.” Mandi lowered her hands. “Lyra.” That mattered. The scoreboard had never replaced the people. Not once. Dalia stepped forward. Wrapped both arms around her. Mandi immediately sagged against her. “Oh.” Dalia laughed softly. “There she is.” “I’m fine.” “You are being held upright by optimism.” “And you.” “And me.” Mandi kissed her. Slow. Tired. Happy. Dalia answered. When they separated, Elisa was waiting. Mandi opened one arm. Elisa moved into it immediately. Kissed her. Then held her. Mandi rested her forehead against Elisa’s. “Six.” Elisa smiled. “I noticed.” “Five.” Dalia sighed. “Yes.” “Four.” Elisa smiled. “Yes.” Mandi closed her eyes. “I win.” Dalia stared at her. “You are a very small idiot.” Mandi opened one eye. “A winning idiot.” Elisa laughed again. Dalia looked at her. Then at Mandi. Then shook her head. But she was smiling. Mandi moved between them. One arm around Dalia. One around Elisa. Both women closed around her naturally. No podium. No first place where love was concerned. No hierarchy hiding beneath the stupid game. Only three lovers standing together after an evening that had somehow become much more ridiculous than Elisa had originally planned. Nearby, the party continued. Sculpt partners curled together across sofas and rugs. Conversation mixed with laughter. Someone opened another bottle. Someone else had apparently decided food was more important than sex for the next twenty minutes. Mandi looked around. Then at Elisa. “You had an idea.” Elisa immediately looked innocent. Dalia groaned. “No.” Mandi smiled. “Your ideas are dangerous.” Elisa kissed her cheek. “You came.” “Yes.” “You stayed.” “Yes.” “You had fun.” Mandi looked at Dalia. Dalia looked at Elisa. Then Mandi smiled. “Six.” Dalia closed her eyes. Elisa laughed. And Mandi— 145 centimeters of neon-orange competitive catastrophe— finally allowed her lovers to steer her toward the sofa. She made it three steps. Then looked back toward the room. Dalia caught her chin and turned her forward again. “No.” Mandi laughed. “I was only looking.” “You’re done.” Mandi considered arguing. Her body apparently voted first. She sighed. “Fine.” Elisa slipped an arm around her waist. Dalia took the other side. Mandi let them. Five. Five. Four. And one utterly ridiculous six. The scoreboard was finished. The party was not. But for the smallest woman in the room— field research was officially closed. --- ## Chapter 15 — After the Score The scoreboard was finished. Mandi had won. This was unfortunate. Mostly for everyone who had to listen to her. “Six.” Dalia did not look up from her drink. “Yes.” Mandi leaned against her shoulder. “Six.” “Yes.” Elisa was curled into the other side of Dalia. She smiled into her glass. Mandi looked at her. “Four.” Elisa nodded. “Yes.” “Respectable.” Elisa started laughing. Dalia turned slowly. “Respectable?” Mandi immediately looked innocent. “I meant distinguished.” “You should stop.” “Elegant?” Dalia stared. Mandi lasted two seconds. Then folded against her laughing. The sofa had become theirs almost by accident. Not reserved. Not claimed. Simply occupied long enough that everyone else had begun treating it as a landmark. Neon orange. Screaming neon pink dreadlocks. Cream and metallic fabric. Three women close enough that the distinction between sitting beside and sitting against each other had disappeared. Mandi had one leg folded under herself. Dalia sat in the middle. Elisa leaned partly across both. Every few minutes one of them moved. A hand shifted. An arm changed shoulders. Someone kissed someone else. Nothing scheduled. Nothing symmetrical. No center. No hierarchy. Just comfort. Mandi looked around the room. The party had evolved. Again. Earlier, sculpt partners had begun openly pairing in the shared spaces. Now nobody seemed particularly interested in pretending the room had ever been arranged for formal entertaining. One broad rug had become home to two sculpted women and one very amused non-sculpt partner sitting nearby with a drink, talking to them between long stretches of affection. The sofa near the terrace had been surrendered completely to Sable and another biosculpt guest. Tavi was lying lengthwise across a low chaise, her head in Romy’s lap while Romy slowly stroked one rounded ear. Maya and Oren had found a quieter corner. Maya’s equine tail stretched lazily across the floor behind her. Oren had one hand resting on her knee. Neither looked remotely interested in leaving. Kessa was eating. Aggressively. Mandi noticed. Then stared. Dalia followed her gaze. “What?” Mandi pointed. “The fox.” “Kessa.” “I know.” Dalia smiled. “Good.” Mandi continued staring. Kessa had built a plate that suggested either intense hunger or architectural ambition. Elisa looked too. Then laughed. “Is that normal?” Mandi considered. “After five?” Dalia turned. “You had five before Lyra.” “Exactly.” “You were not eating.” “I was busy winning.” Elisa laughed into Dalia’s shoulder. Dalia closed her eyes. “I miss the version of tonight where none of us knew there was a score.” “There was always a score.” “No.” “There was spiritually.” “That sentence means nothing.” “It means everything.” Dalia reached for her lollipop. Mandi immediately stole it. Dalia stared. Mandi put it into her own mouth. Silence. Elisa looked between them. Then slowly covered her smile with one hand. Dalia held out her palm. Mandi shook her head. Dalia continued holding it out. Mandi leaned closer. “Come get it.” Elisa made a tiny sound. “Oh, no.” Dalia looked at her. “What?” “That face.” “What face?” “The one where you’re about to prove a point.” Dalia looked back at Mandi. Mandi smiled around the lollipop. Dalia leaned in. Mandi expected a kiss. She got one. Long enough that her eyes closed. Long enough that the joke disappeared. Then Dalia pulled back— with the lollipop between her own lips. Mandi stared. Elisa exploded laughing. Dalia settled back into the sofa. Calm. Perfectly composed. Mandi pointed. “That was theft.” Dalia removed the lollipop. “It was mine.” “You used deception.” “I used competence.” Elisa was still laughing. Mandi turned toward her. “You’re supposed to support me.” “I support both of you.” “That’s politically convenient.” Elisa kissed her. Mandi stopped complaining immediately. Dalia watched. Smiled. Then leaned in and kissed Elisa too when Mandi released her. The progression was casual. Natural. Nobody waiting. Nobody measuring. Elisa smiled against Dalia’s mouth. When they separated, she remained close. “I like this.” Dalia touched her cheek. “The party?” Elisa thought. Then shook her head. “This.” Mandi had quieted. Elisa looked at both of them. “The way this works.” No one joked. Not immediately. Mandi shifted closer. Dalia’s expression softened. Elisa continued. “No one has to ask where they rank.” Dalia smiled. “There is no ranking.” Mandi added: “Except tonight.” Dalia closed her eyes. Elisa burst out laughing. The seriousness survived anyway. That was one of the things Elisa had learned about them. Humor did not destroy sincerity. It often protected it. Mandi kissed Elisa’s temple. Dalia rested one hand over Elisa’s. Elisa looked down at it. Then at them. “I mean it.” “We know,” Dalia said. Mandi nodded. “We do.” Elisa smiled. Then leaned back into both. No one spoke for a while. --- Lyra appeared ten minutes later. Mandi noticed first. Of course. She sat up. A little too fast. Then stopped. Dalia looked at her. Mandi smiled tightly. “I’m fine.” “You are an idiot.” “I’m a successful idiot.” Lyra approached carrying two drinks in human hands and a small plate balanced effortlessly in one additional limb. Another carried— Mandi’s shoes. Mandi stared. “Oh.” Lyra smiled. “You left these.” Dalia turned very slowly toward Mandi. Elisa covered her mouth. Mandi looked at the shoes. Then at Lyra. “I was distracted.” “So I gathered.” Lyra extended them. Mandi took the shoes. “Thank you.” One of Lyra’s additional limbs offered the plate. Mandi looked. Fruit. Cheese. Small sandwiches. She stared at Lyra. Lyra smiled. “Eat.” Dalia immediately pointed. “I like her.” Mandi accepted the plate. “Everyone is suddenly very controlling.” “You had six encounters.” Mandi looked offended. “Allegedly.” Lyra laughed. Elisa shifted to make room. Lyra looked at the sofa. Then at the three women. “Am I interrupting?” Elisa answered first. “No.” Mandi nodded. “Sit.” Dalia added: “If you want.” Lyra smiled. “I do.” She chose the floor instead. Settled comfortably against the sofa near Mandi’s knees. Additional limbs arranged themselves without drama. One curled beside her. Another rested against the low table. Mandi watched despite herself. Lyra noticed. “You’re still studying.” “Yes.” “I thought field research was closed.” Dalia laughed. Mandi glared at her. Lyra looked between them. “Field research?” Elisa answered. “That’s what we’re calling tonight now.” Lyra nodded solemnly. “Very scientific.” “Extremely,” Mandi said. Dalia looked at the plate. “Eat.” Mandi sighed. Took a piece of fruit. Lyra smiled. “Good.” Mandi pointed at her with it. “Do not join them.” “Too late.” Elisa laughed. For the next twenty minutes the strangest conversation of the evening happened with almost no sexual tension at all. Lyra explained the sculpt. Not mechanically. Experientially. The first hour after remap. The strange cognitive overload of suddenly having movement available where the brain had never expected movement to exist. How the first session had involved dropping objects constantly. How the nervous system eventually stopped treating each limb like a separate mathematics problem. Mandi listened with absolute fascination. So did Elisa. Dalia pretended not to. Then asked the most technical questions. Mandi noticed. Slowly smiled. Dalia pointed at her. “No.” “You’re interested.” “In the neuro-remap.” “Interested.” “Technically.” “Interested.” Lyra laughed. “You two do this constantly?” Elisa answered: “Yes.” Dalia and Mandi both looked at her. Elisa smiled sweetly. “Constantly.” Lyra nodded. “Good.” Mandi continued eating. Eventually. --- The party began thinning sometime after midnight. Not ending. Thinning. A few guests left. Others disappeared into private rooms. Some returned later. Some did not. Nobody announced departures like a formal corpo reception. Goodbyes happened in clusters. Hugs. Kisses. Promises to message. The usual quiet negotiations about cars, drivers, security, and whether somebody was actually sober enough to make a decision about anything. Elisa handled that part automatically. Host mode returned without killing the looseness. Cars were arranged. Guest access updated. Security informed without being intrusive. Nobody left unsupported. Nobody had to explain why they wanted to stay longer. Nobody had to explain why they wanted to leave. Mandi watched Elisa manage it. Then looked at Dalia. Dalia was watching too. “Good,” Mandi said quietly. Dalia nodded. “Very.” Elisa returned a few minutes later. “What?” Mandi reached out. Caught her hand. Pulled her gently closer. “You’re good at this.” Elisa blinked. “Hosting?” “People.” Elisa looked surprised by the distinction. Dalia took her other hand. “Yes.” Elisa smiled. Small. Real. Then Mandi ruined it. “You should throw more orgies.” Elisa choked. Dalia closed her eyes. Lyra, still nearby, laughed so hard one additional limb knocked lightly against the table. Mandi immediately pointed. “Doorway problem.” Lyra stared. “That was a table.” “Related discipline.” Elisa sat down between her lovers again. “You’re impossible.” Mandi kissed her cheek. “You invited me.” “I know.” “Twice.” “I know.” Dalia frowned. “Twice?” Elisa looked at her. “Tonight and the spa.” Dalia nodded. “Fair.” Mandi leaned forward. “And technically—” Dalia covered her mouth. “No.” Mandi laughed into her hand. Elisa leaned against Dalia. “Thank you.” “You’re welcome.” Dalia removed her hand. Mandi immediately said: “Six.” Dalia put it back. --- By the time the last non-staying guest departed, the apartment looked nothing like it had at the beginning. Glasses everywhere. Shoes in improbable places. Cushions migrated across rooms. One throw blanket somehow on the floor near the terrace. A single earring on the low table. No obvious disaster. Just evidence of twenty adults using a carefully designed corpo residence like a home instead of a showroom. Elisa stood in the center of it. Hands on hips. Mandi beside her. Dalia on the other side. All three looked around. Silence. Mandi said: “Lena is going to blame me for something.” Dalia nodded. “Yes.” “I didn’t do anything.” Elisa looked at her. Mandi reconsidered. “Nothing structural.” Dalia laughed. Elisa did too. They had changed out of the worst of the event clothing. Not completely. Enough to be comfortable. Mandi carried her shoes instead of wearing them. Dalia’s dreadlocks were no longer arranged with anything resembling their original precision. Elisa’s cream gown was still somehow intact, though the rest of her looked decidedly less corpo-perfect than when the evening began. Mandi looked at her. Then at Dalia. Then quietly smiled. “What?” Elisa asked. “Nothing.” Dalia raised an eyebrow. “That is never true.” Mandi stepped closer to both. Wrapped one arm around Elisa. One around Dalia. “Good idea.” Elisa blinked. “The party?” “Yes.” Dalia smiled. Mandi rested her head briefly against Elisa. Then Dalia. “Very stupid.” Elisa laughed. “Thank you.” “Extremely irresponsible.” Dalia added: “Now she means it affectionately.” “I do.” Elisa wrapped both arms around them. Three bodies close. Three sets of tired breathing. No audience left that mattered. No scoreboard anymore. No need to perform confidence. Mandi sagged slightly. Dalia felt it. “So did Elisa. Both tightened their arms instinctively. Mandi sighed. “I may be tired.” Dalia laughed softly. “Impossible.” “I said may.” Elisa kissed her forehead. Mandi closed her eyes. Then murmured: “Worth it.” Dalia kissed one neon-orange temple. “Yes.” Elisa smiled. “Definitely.” They remained standing like that longer than any of them needed to. Eventually Dalia said: “Bed.” Mandi opened one eye. “Command?” “Medical recommendation.” Elisa laughed. Mandi looked at her. “Do I get a second opinion?” Elisa considered. Then: “Bed.” Mandi sighed. “Corrupt system.” Dalia started guiding her toward the hallway. Elisa took the other side. Mandi allowed it. After three steps she looked back at the destroyed living room. Then toward the hallway where so many encounters had happened. Then at Elisa. “You know.” Elisa’s eyes narrowed. “No.” “I haven’t said anything.” “I know that face.” Dalia nodded. “So do I.” Mandi smiled. “Good party.” Elisa relaxed. “Yes.” Mandi took another step. Then: “We should absolutely—” Dalia covered her mouth again. Elisa laughed. Mandi surrendered. Temporarily. The three lovers disappeared down the hallway together. Behind them— the apartment finally became quiet. Almost. From somewhere near the terrace, a forgotten guest’s personal terminal chirped. Dalia stopped. Mandi looked back. Elisa looked at both. Silence. Then Mandi whispered: “Not ours.” Dalia nodded. “Tomorrow.” Elisa nodded too. “Tomorrow.” They continued toward the bedroom. Slowly. Not because anyone admitted needing to. Not yet. But all three of them— even Elisa— were beginning to move just a little more carefully than they had at the start of the evening. --- ## Chapter 16 — Not Soon Morning arrived without sympathy. Sunlight found the bedroom first. A narrow line slipped between the curtains, crossed the floor, climbed the edge of the bed— and eventually reached Mandi’s face. She frowned. Turned away. Stopped halfway through the movement. Opened one black eye. Considered what her body had just told her. Then very carefully completed the turn. Beside her, Dalia was awake. Mandi knew because one neon-green eye was open. Neither spoke. Elisa slept between them. One arm across Mandi. One leg tangled somewhere beneath the blanket. Her hair was a complete disaster. Dalia looked at Mandi. Mandi looked at Dalia. Silence. Then Mandi whispered: “Six.” Dalia closed her eye. Mandi smiled. Immediately regretted smiling that hard. “Oh.” Dalia opened her eye again. “That sounded promising.” “I’m fine.” “Of course.” “I am.” Dalia moved to stretch. Stopped. Very slowly abandoned the idea. Mandi’s smile returned. “Five.” “Shut up.” Elisa made a sleepy sound between them. Both women froze. Elisa opened her eyes. Blinking. Confused for approximately three seconds. Then she saw Mandi. Saw Dalia. Remembered. A smile spread across her face. “Morning.” “Morning,” Mandi said. Dalia answered: “Good morning.” Elisa tried to sit up. She made it halfway. Stopped. Her expression became thoughtful. Mandi watched. Dalia watched. Elisa slowly lowered herself back onto the pillow. Mandi’s smile became radiant. “Four.” Elisa turned her head. “Fuck you.” Mandi collapsed laughing. Which was a mistake. She immediately curled slightly inward. “Oh, fuck.” Dalia started laughing. Then regretted that too. Elisa watched both of them. Then began laughing herself. For perhaps thirty seconds the bedroom contained three women discovering that amusement had consequences. Eventually silence returned. Mandi stared at the ceiling. Dalia stared at the ceiling. Elisa stared at the ceiling. Nobody moved. Finally Elisa said: “Worth it.” Mandi answered immediately. “Yes.” Dalia sighed. “Yes.” Another silence. Then Mandi: “Six.” Dalia threw a pillow at her. Not hard. Mostly because throwing it hard would have required effort. Mandi caught it against her face. Elisa laughed. Carefully. --- Getting out of bed became a collaborative engineering project. Elisa went first. Not because she volunteered. Because she was in the middle. She sat up slowly. Waited. Moved one leg. Waited. Then stood. Mandi watched with professional interest. Elisa pointed at her. “No counting.” “I didn’t say anything.” “Your face did.” Dalia murmured: “It does that.” Mandi looked betrayed. Elisa found a robe. Put it on. Then turned toward the bed. “Coffee.” Mandi raised one hand. “Yes.” Dalia raised hers. “Yes.” Elisa took two steps. Her pace was entirely normal. Almost. Mandi noticed. Said nothing. That required considerable personal growth. Elisa disappeared through the bedroom door. Dalia looked at Mandi. “You were about to say four.” “Yes.” “Thank you.” “You’re welcome.” Dalia sat up. Slowly. Mandi watched. Dalia reached the edge of the bed. Paused. Then stood. Very carefully. Mandi smiled. Dalia looked down at her. “Five.” Mandi blinked. Dalia smiled. Then walked toward the door. Mandi stared after her. “That was my joke.” “Yes.” “You stole it.” “Yes.” “You bitch.” Dalia looked back. Screaming neon-pink dreadlocks in complete morning disarray. “Six.” Then she left. Mandi sat alone on the bed. Deeply offended. For perhaps five seconds. Then she started laughing again. “Fuck.” --- The apartment was remarkably intact. The cleaning systems had handled the easiest evidence overnight. Glasses had disappeared. Surfaces had been cleared. The floor no longer looked like twenty adults had attempted to reorganize Elisa’s furniture through improvisation. But there were limits. A cushion remained under the dining table. Someone’s earring still sat on the low table. A shoe that belonged to nobody currently present had somehow reached the terrace door. And the forgotten personal terminal remained exactly where they had heard it chirp the previous night. Elisa picked it up. Looked at the identifier. “I know whose this is.” Dalia entered behind her. “Good.” “I’ll have security return it.” “Better.” Elisa set it aside. Then looked at Dalia. Really looked. Her mouth twitched. Dalia narrowed her eyes. “No.” “I didn’t say anything.” “You were going to.” Elisa smiled. “Pink hair.” Dalia touched one dreadlock. It was pointing in a direction Lena had definitely not intended. “That can be repaired.” Another dreadlock had somehow looped behind her shoulder and remained there. Elisa smiled wider. Dalia sighed. “Coffee.” “Yes.” Mandi appeared in the doorway. Slowly. She was wearing one of Elisa’s oversized shirts. On Mandi it looked absurd, except for the impossible neon-orange hair and black eyes transforming the entire effect into something that belonged in a very expensive advertisement for bad decisions. She stopped. Elisa looked at her. Dalia looked at her. Mandi looked at both. “What?” Dalia pointed. “Nothing.” “That finger means something.” Elisa started laughing. Mandi walked toward them. Her gait was— careful. Not dramatic. Not painful. Just unmistakably more deliberate than normal. Dalia watched. Mandi saw her watching. “Do not.” Dalia put the lollipop into her mouth. Said nothing. Mandi reached the kitchen island. Stopped beside Elisa. Then leaned against her. Elisa immediately put an arm around her. Mandi sighed. “Coffee.” Elisa kissed her temple. “Already making it.” “I love you.” “I know.” Dalia came around the other side. Mandi extended one arm toward her without lifting her head. Dalia stepped into it. Mandi pulled her close. Three women stood in the kitchen. Morning light. Destroyed cover hair. Borrowed clothes. No makeup worth mentioning. No score worth defending anymore. Elisa looked at them. Then smiled. “I love you too.” Mandi kissed her shoulder. Dalia touched Elisa’s back. Nothing more needed saying. For almost ten seconds. Then Mandi murmured: “Six.” Dalia walked away. --- Breakfast became substantial. Not elegant. Substantial. Elisa ordered more food after looking at Mandi. Mandi objected. Then ate enough to invalidate the objection. Dalia drank two coffees before becoming fully conversational. Elisa sat barefoot at the kitchen island, robe closed loosely around her, reading messages from guests. Mandi stole fruit from Dalia’s plate. Dalia stole it back. Mandi stole another piece. Dalia moved the entire plate. Mandi stared. “You have changed.” “Yes.” “Cruel.” “Yes.” Elisa smiled at her terminal. “Oh.” Both lovers looked at her. “What?” Dalia asked. Elisa read. Then laughed. “Kessa says she found her other shoe.” Mandi nodded. “Good.” “At home.” Mandi paused. Dalia slowly lowered her coffee. Elisa continued: “She does not know how.” Mandi considered the previous night. “That seems plausible.” Another message arrived. Elisa smiled. “Maya says thank you.” Dalia’s expression softened. “Good.” “And Oren says next time he’s labeling their belongings.” Dalia laughed. Mandi pointed at her. “Next time.” Dalia stopped. Elisa looked at Mandi. Mandi looked at Elisa. Then all three looked at the terminal. Silence. Elisa returned to the messages. “Lyra says you left nothing behind.” Mandi looked pleased. “Professional.” A pause. Elisa added: “She says Anton checked.” Dalia laughed into her coffee. Mandi stared. “Propaganda.” Elisa kept reading. “She also says field research should require peer review.” Mandi’s eyes lit. Dalia immediately said: “No.” “I didn’t say anything.” “You were going to.” “Science requires—” “No.” Elisa laughed. Another message. Then another. Nothing bad. No regrets requiring repair. No frightened confusion. No boundary problem that had emerged in hindsight. Mostly thanks. Jokes. Lost property. A few photographs from the early social part of the evening. One picture of the three of them before the scoreboard had become ridiculous. Elisa turned the terminal. Mandi and Dalia leaned closer. There they were. Elisa between them. Mandi in impossible neon orange. Dalia in screaming neon-pink dreadlocks. All three still perfectly dressed. All three smiling. Mandi looked at it. “That was before.” “Before what?” Elisa asked. Dalia answered: “Bad decisions.” Mandi smiled. “Excellent decisions.” Elisa saved the photograph. Then another message appeared. She read it. Her eyebrows rose. “What?” Mandi asked. Elisa looked up. “Tavi says Romy wants to know who officially won.” Dalia put her coffee down. “No.” Mandi straightened. “Yes.” Elisa was already typing. Dalia reached for the terminal. Elisa moved it away. “Elisa.” Mandi leaned across the island. “Tell them.” “Mandi.” “Six.” Dalia closed her eyes. Elisa typed. Sent. Mandi waited. “What did you say?” Elisa smiled innocently. “That everybody won.” Mandi stared. Dalia smiled. “Good answer.” Mandi looked wounded. “That is mathematically false.” Elisa leaned across the island. Kissed her. Mandi remained offended through approximately half the kiss. Then stopped caring. When Elisa sat back, Mandi narrowed her eyes. “Manipulation.” “Yes.” Dalia raised her coffee. “She learns quickly.” --- They eventually migrated to the living room. Slowly. Every one of them. That was the part none could deny anymore. Elisa moved slightly more carefully than normal. Dalia moved slightly more carefully than normal. Mandi— Mandi moved considerably more carefully than she wanted anyone to notice. Nobody mentioned it. Mostly. They occupied the same sofa as the previous night. Elisa in the middle this time. Mandi curled against one side. Dalia against the other. The apartment had become quiet again. Actually quiet. No guests. No music. No sculpted tails crossing the floor. No one disappearing into private rooms. No score. Only coffee and morning. Mandi had her eyes closed. Dalia was idly moving one hand through Elisa’s hair. Elisa rested her head against Dalia. Her feet were tucked beneath Mandi. Nobody seemed interested in going anywhere. Eventually Elisa spoke. Very casually. “Should we do this again sometime?” Mandi opened her eyes. Dalia’s hand stopped. Silence. Elisa looked at Mandi. Then Dalia. Perfect innocence. Almost. Mandi slowly lifted her head. Looked across Elisa at Dalia. Dalia looked back. Five. Five. Between them— four. And somewhere in the universe, the memory of six was laughing. Mandi raised one eyebrow. Dalia raised hers. They considered. Not the answer. The consequences. Mandi glanced down at herself. Dalia followed the glance. Then both looked at Elisa. Elisa’s smile was becoming dangerous. Mandi and Dalia looked at each other again. Both nodded. Mandi answered: “Yes.” Elisa brightened. Mandi raised one finger. “But not soon.” Dalia immediately nodded. “Definitely not soon.” Elisa laughed. “Define soon.” “No,” Dalia said. Mandi settled back against Elisa. “Future problem.” Elisa wrapped an arm around her. Dalia resumed slowly playing with Elisa’s hair. A minute passed. Mandi’s eyes closed again. Then: “Maybe fewer people.” Dalia looked at her. Elisa looked down. Mandi opened one eye. “What?” Dalia smiled. “You are already planning it.” “No.” “You absolutely are.” “I made an observation.” Elisa laughed. Mandi closed her eye again. “Maybe different sculpts.” Dalia stared. Mandi smiled without opening her eyes. “Eventually.” Elisa looked across at Dalia. Dalia sighed. But she was smiling too. “Eventually.” Elisa relaxed between them. Satisfied. No date. No plan. No invitation list. Nothing promised except the possibility. That was enough. Morning sunlight had crossed most of the living room now. Three lovers occupied one sofa. Nobody ranked. Nobody owned. Nobody regretted anything. Mandi shifted closer to Elisa. Then reached blindly across her until she found Dalia’s hand. Dalia intertwined their fingers. Elisa looked down. Orange hair against one shoulder. Pink dreadlocks against the other. Their joined hands resting across her. She smiled. Mandi murmured: “Good idea.” Elisa kissed the top of her head. “Which one?” “The party.” Dalia smiled. Mandi added: “And breakfast.” “Good.” “And six.” Dalia pulled her hand away. Mandi started laughing. Elisa caught Dalia’s hand before it escaped completely and put it back. Dalia allowed it. Mandi found her fingers again. This time she behaved. Mostly. The apartment settled around them. Nobody moved for a long while. Partly because they were comfortable. Partly because they were tired. And partly because— after last night— standing up was currently overrated.