Meira laughed softly. "Chaos seems to follow you."

"Or maybe he creates it," Ryla added quietly, though her smile suggested she didn't entirely disapprove.

The easy banter about the rematch settled, but the underlying curiosity about Zaeryn himself remained.

Then, Morticia, who had been seated beside him, spoke. "Zaeryn," she began, her voice now sounding more curious than light, cutting through the lighter chatter. "Forgive my directness, but... I'm trying to understand." She paused, choosing her words carefully to avoid sounding accusatory. "We all saw your potential today. The Vitae manipulation... it's just not something males are biologically capable of. No offense intended," she added quickly, "but how? How are you... you?"

The question landed, silencing the surrounding conversations again. Although it was one person who had asked, it was clear that everyone was asking the same thing here.

All eyes turned back to Zaeryn, the underlying curiosity now focused, sharpened by Morticia's blunt but respectfully phrased inquiry. They weren't just asking about a skill; they were asking about the fundamental nature of his existence in their world.

Zaeryn took another sip of his ale, buying a moment. He couldn't reveal the goddesses, the system, or the true nature of his transmigration. He settled on the partial truth he'd used before, adding a layer of vague mystery. "Honestly, Morticia? I wish I knew," he said, meeting her gaze directly. "The simplest answer? I survived something I shouldn't have, an encounter with the Fade. Since then..." He shrugged, letting the implication hang. "Things have been... different. Powers I didn't know I had started surfacing. It's as much a surprise to me as it is to you all."

Genevieve shifted on her cushion, landing a kiss on his arm through the fabric. "Survived the Fade and gained Vitae?" she murmured, her eyes wide with fascination. "That's not just different; that's rewriting the laws of biology. When did you first realize?" she asked, her voice lower now, more intimate. "When did you know you could do... more?"

Before Zaeryn could answer, Morticia mirrored Genevieve's move and shifted closer to him. The warmth of her body pressed against his left, while Genevieve's heat radiated on his right. The air suddenly felt charged, thick with their combined proximity and unspoken interest. Morticia leaned in slightly, her gaze analytical but undeniably intrigued. "Yes, when?"

Zaeryn found himself pleasantly trapped, the subtle scents of Morticia's cool, clean fragrance and Genevieve's warmer, spicier perfume mingling around him. He could feel the slight brush of their arms against his, the undeniable intimacy of their closeness.

Across from them, Ingrid's stormy eyes narrowed slightly, watching them get this close with a hint of possessiveness. Ryla and Meira watched with open curiosity. Leia merely rolled her eyes, though she didn't care honestly.

"The full extent?" Zaeryn said, playing along with the sudden closeness, letting his gaze drift between Morticia and Genevieve. "Only very recently. Like, in the last few days recently." He let his hand rest casually on Genevieve's knee, a bold move that made her breath hitch almost imperceptibly. "Still figuring it all out."

"Well, you're not normal, that's for sure," Meira commented.

Sometime later, the atmosphere shifted. The academic curiosity now was heavily filled with something far more personal, far more electric.

The conversation shifted, the air still buzzing from the talk about Zaeryn's anomaly status. Morticia, who had been lost in her thought, had a look of slight realization or something resembling it.

"Leia," Morticia began, her voice smooth and carrying just enough volume for everyone to hear, "hypothetically speaking, of course..." She paused, a faint, calculating smile playing on her lips. "When Zaeryn… employed his unconventional escape tactic yesterday. The neck thing." She tilted her head. "Purely from a physiological standpoint, what did that feel like?"

The question came out of nowhere, and Leia went still for a second, her head snapping around to glare daggers at Morticia. "Are you serious right now?" she hissed, her voice tight with annoyance. She wanted to forget about that moment, and here was her friend reminding her about it.

Morticia raised her hands slightly, palms out, in a gesture of placating innocence. "Relax," she said calmly. "It's a genuine question. Jyn mentioned she kissed him yesterday," she shot a quick glance at Zaeryn, "and she described it as… surprisingly intense. Pleasurable, even." Morticia's gaze slid back to Leia. "I was just wondering if such contact as you had with him today feels the same."

Ingrid, perched beside Leia, turned fully, her earlier territorial air replaced by undisguised interest. She looked Leia up and down. "Is that true, Leia?" she asked, her stormy eyes wide with fascination. "Did it feel... good? Even though he was playing dirty?"

That was the final straw for Leia. She practically leaped to her feet, her face flushed crimson. "No!" she snapped, her voice sharp enough to cut glass. "He kissed my neck! It was unexpected and unacceptable! Stop asking me stupid questions!" She shot a furious glare around the group before turning and stalking towards the drink table, clearly needing space.

Ingrid just rolled her eyes at Leia's dramatic exit.

Meira leaned back, a thoughtful, almost mischievous glint in her eyes. "You know," she proposed, her voice soft but carrying a suggestive weight, "instead of speculating based on Leia's potentially biased reaction… why don't we gather more data ourselves?" Her gaze swept over the group, finally landing on Zaeryn. "I mean, he's right here."

A few seconds of silence, then Ingrid nodded slowly, a predatory smile returning to her lips. "That's actually a brilliant idea, Meira. Empirical research." She looked directly at Zaeryn. "Assuming Zaeryn is willing, of course?"

"Zaeryn, will you allow us?"

Zaeryn felt a slow heat spread through him. This was... unexpected. And absolutely perfect. A chance to bond, to test Sage's, and now Jyn and Morticia's theory about his kisses, and maybe gain some allies? Plus, the thought of kissing these stunning Warladies-in-training was hardly a chore. He projected calm, leaning back slightly, though his pulse hammered. "Gathering data? I'm always willing to contribute," he said, his voice smooth, hoping he sounded less like an eager puppy and more like a cool, consenting participant.

He was a decent kisser, maybe even great thanks to practice with Sage and others, so this felt almost guaranteed.

"Excellent," Ingrid declared, moving smoothly from her cushion to stand directly in front of him. She tilted her head, her yellow hair catching the light. "I'll be first."

"Hey, why you first?" Genevieve protested immediately, shifting on the bench beside Zaeryn, her arm pressing deliberately against his. "I was here first."

Before an argument could break out, Zaeryn raised a hand, cutting them off, though a wave of awkwardness washed over him. He never had two women argue about who he should kiss first before and didn't know how to deal with it.

"Relax," he said, trying to sound charming but landing somewhere near flustered or awkward. "Plenty of... kisses... to go around. Everyone who wants to participate will get a turn."

As soon as he finished those words, he mentally sighed. Definitely needed to work on sounding less like he was handing out lottery tickets.

He turned to Genevieve, who was already looking at him with undisguised anticipation. "Since you're already here..." He didn't finish the sentence, instead leaning in. His free hand came up to her face, caressing her cheek, while the other slid deliberately down her side, coming to rest firmly on her upper thigh, fingers pressing slightly beneath the uniform fabric.

Genevieve's breath hitched. His touch was electric, possessive, sending a jolt straight to her core. He captured her mouth, not gently, but with a confidence that bordered on demanding. His lips were firm, skilled, moving against hers with a heat that instantly melted her thoughts. His tongue swept past her teeth, exploring, claiming, tangling with hers in a rhythm that was pure sensation.

She moved from her sitting position and sat up on her knees as she grew even more confident and kissed him with hunger. Zaeryn's hand trailed to her slender waist.

She lost herself completely. The room, the others, Leia's lingering annoyance, it all dissolved into the intoxicating reality of his kiss, the firm pressure of his hand burning on her waist. A low, involuntary moan vibrated in her throat, escaping into his mouth, a sound of pure, unadulterated pleasure she couldn't contain. This wasn't just a kiss; it felt like a jolt of raw energy, something primal and addictive.

When Zaeryn finally started to pull back, Genevieve pressed herself towards him even more to continue. In the end they both had to catch their breaths.

Her eyes fluttered open, hazy and dark with desire, her chest rising and falling rapidly. She looked utterly undone, the earlier amusement replaced by a raw, consuming heat. She made a small move as if to lean back in, clearly wanting to continue, her body thrumming with the aftershock of the kiss.

"Wait, Genevieve, your time is up," Ingrid's voice cut through the charged air, cool and amused, though her stormy eyes held a possessive glint as she looked at Zaeryn. "It's my turn."

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