POV Nyla
It's… frustrating. Knowing he's with another. So far from his warmth. This heat in my chest, crawling through my veins — I can't control it. I can't stand it.
I wandered the cave halls aimlessly, my feet moving on instinct, following his scent. It kept pulling me back here… to his room.
I growled low. The smell was stronger inside, and that made it worse. Memories came unbidden, curling my tails, weakening my knees.
"Frustrating," I muttered, stepping in.
His scent wrapped around me like a trap I wanted to be caught in. I collapsed onto his cot. The sheets were heavy with him — intoxicating, dizzying. If I closed my eyes, I could still feel his weight, the heat of his skin.
"Master…" My voice cracked as I wrapped myself tighter in the sheets. I needed to be surrounded by him, to be held. But I couldn't have that right now. He was with her.
Jealousy and something more primal tightened in my chest.
"No." I barked at myself. "You said you could share. You can share." The words were a warning, not a comfort. "Don't disappoint him… don't hurt him… not even Nyla."
I bit down on his pillow. The scent burst in my nose — warm, sharp, him. My breath came quicker. My body ached, the battle wounds all but forgotten.
"Mmm… master…" The words slipped out unbidden as I shifted under my own touch.
Footsteps. My ears twitched toward the sound. A familiar scent — close to his, but… not right.
"Oh? If it isn't the Pup," Shyara's voice.
I hated how she could talk like him. Move like him. Stand at his side as if it were hers by right. Disgusting. But—
"I see we had the same idea," she went on. "It smells so~ good in here—"
"Don't." My growl cut her off.
She tilted her head. "Hm?"
"Don't talk about him like you're that close." My voice was low, sharp.
Her grin widened. "But we are. Not the same as you, sure… but close. And I plan to get closer." She crossed the room, her tone almost his. "Scoot over. I want some of that good ole Kai scent too."
"No." I buried my face in the pillow—
—and that was the mistake. His scent flooded me, hotter, heavier. A moan slipped from my throat before I could stop it.
"Oh? You really need it, huh?" she teased, forcing herself onto the cot beside me.
I didn't push her away. Couldn't. My body wasn't obeying.
"I get it," she said, half-smiling. "I want it too. But you're the lucky one."
"…What do you mean?" My voice was rough, my vision blurred from the heat pounding through me. It was dangerous to look this vulnerable in front of a rival.
She leaned in, eyes gleaming. "I have his memories. And trust me — you're his favorite. Might be as obsessed with you as you are with him. He just knows how to pull the brakes."
Her hand patted my head. Like him. Exactly like him.
My thoughts tangled, scattered. The way she moved, the way she spoke— "…Him," I breathed, my voice dripping with need.
"You're just like him. I wonder…"
The words barely left my lips before I kissed her — hungry, deep. She didn't hesitate. Her mouth moved against mine like it knew me, like it had done this before.
It wasn't him. But she wasn't resisting. She kissed back with his rhythm, his heat.
And she wasn't him… so I didn't have to be gentle. I didn't have to hold back.
I could break her. Just a little.