The carriage smelled like old wood and dusty cushions.
It rattled along the dirt road at a steady, unhurried pace, pulled by two plain brown horses that looked like they had made this trip a hundred times. Renji sat on one side of the narrow bench with Aya leaning lightly against his left shoulder and Lira tucked against his right. Both girls had dozed off somewhere in the last hour. The afternoon sun slanted through the small window, warm and lazy.
For once, nothing was happening.
No monsters. No kings. No erased limbs. No forced orgasms in bathrooms or forests. Just the creak of the wheels, the occasional bird call outside, and the soft, even breathing of the two girls using him as a pillow.
Renji kept one arm loosely around Aya’s waist and the other resting along the back of the seat behind Lira’s wings. He stared out the window at the passing fields and let his mind stay mostly empty.
{First quiet stretch since we got summoned. Almost feels illegal.}
Aya shifted in her sleep, thick thigh pressing a little heavier against his. The faint marks he had left on her neck days ago had faded, but the way she still moved with residual awareness of her body had not. Lira’s transparent wings twitched once under the cloak, then settled again. She looked even younger in sleep, blonde hair spilling across his sleeve, face completely unguarded.
Renji didn’t wake them. He just sat there and let the carriage carry all three of them farther from the capital.
By the time the sun started dropping, the outline of the next town appeared on the horizon—wooden walls, a few watchtowers, and the usual cluster of buildings around a central square. The carriage rolled through the gate without trouble. The driver dropped them near the notice board in the main square and went on his way.
Aya stretched both arms over her head, the motion lifting her chest and drawing more than one passing glance. Lira stood close to Renji, still half-hidden under the oversized cloak, blue eyes taking in the new place with quiet curiosity.
A large recruitment notice was pinned to the board in fresh ink.
**Lord Varrick seeks capable mercenaries.**
**Mana crystal collection – Eastern Dungeon.**
**Payment upon return. Party registration at the guild hall.**
Renji read it twice.
“We need money,” he said simply.
Aya glanced at the notice, then at him. “Dungeon work?”
“Looks that way.”
They found the small local guild hall two streets over. It was quieter than the capital’s version—just a counter, a few tables, and a bored-looking clerk with ink-stained fingers. Renji stepped up first.
“Party registration. I’ll be leader.”
The clerk slid a form across the wood. Renji filled it out with the same lazy handwriting he used for everything. When it came to party members he listed Aya as Beast Tamer and Lira as Healer. The clerk stamped the paper, collected a small fee, and pointed them toward the inn recommended for registered parties.
Before they left, Renji looked at Lira.
“What level are you?”
Lira tilted her head, genuine confusion on her face.
“Level…? Fairies don’t have those. I can heal. That is all.”
Renji nodded like he had expected the answer.
“We needed a healer anyway. Frontline’s going to be a problem though.” He glanced at Aya. “Your summons will have to handle it for now.”
Aya shrugged, already accepting the role. “The tiger can tank. The wolf can harass. It’ll work until we find something better.”
They took a single room at the inn. It was small but clean—one wide bed, a washbasin, a window that looked out over the stable roof. The clerk didn’t ask questions when three people walked in together. Gold spoke louder than propriety in towns like this.
Night settled quickly.
Aya and Lira washed up first, then claimed opposite sides of the bed like it was the most natural arrangement in the world. Renji took the middle without comment. The mattress dipped under their combined weight. Within minutes both girls were asleep again—Aya on her side facing away from him, Lira curled lightly toward his shoulder, one wing draped halfway across his chest.
Renji stared at the dark ceiling.
He tried to keep the thoughts clean. He really did. They had a dungeon to run tomorrow. Money to make. A new town to not get kicked out of. For a while he almost succeeded.
Then Aya shifted in her sleep, the soft curve of her ass pressing back against his hip, and his body stopped cooperating.
He was hard within a minute.
{Of course. Quiet day, wholesome carriage ride, two girls asleep, and now this. Consistent.}
He lay still for a long moment, listening to their breathing. Lira’s was soft and even. Aya’s was deeper. Neither of them stirred.
Renji made the decision without much internal debate.
He rolled carefully toward Aya, kept his upper body still, and slid his hand under the blanket. Her skirt had ridden up in sleep. His fingers found the warm skin of her inner thigh, then higher, until he was tracing the damp cotton of her panties right over her clit.
He started with the lightest possible circles.
Aya’s breathing changed first. A small hitch. Then a slow, unconscious roll of her hips toward his hand. He kept the pressure gentle, steady, teasing the little bundle of nerves through the thin fabric until she made a soft, sleepy sound and her eyes fluttered open in the dark.
She tensed for half a second.
Renji leaned in until his mouth was against her ear, voice barely air.
“Keep quiet. Lira’s right there.”
His fingers continued their slow, deliberate circles over her clit through the panties, giving her no chance to fully wake up without the stimulation already locked in place.
Aya’s hand shot down under the blanket and grabbed his wrist—not quite stopping him, just holding on. Her thick thighs shifted, caught between the urge to close and the urge to open. A tiny, suppressed sound escaped her throat before she bit it back.
Renji nipped her earlobe once, calm and unhurried, and kept teasing exactly where she was most sensitive.
The room stayed otherwise silent.
Lira slept on, unaware.
And Aya lay rigid and already starting to get wet under her boyfriend’s quiet, insistent fingers, trapped between the need to stay silent and the slow, relentless pleasure he had decided to give her in the middle of the night.