Chapter 294: 294 | The Harem Was Definitely Delivering
The Emotional Duplex component of our Heroine Bond Resonance was convenient when it allowed me to understand Sloane’s feelings without her having to articulate them. It was significantly less convenient when it meant she could read my guilt and anxiety like a book written in large print.
"Later," I agreed, because there was no point in denying what she could literally feel through our supernatural connection.
"Later," she confirmed. "After I meet Radiant and have my professional freak-out and process the fact that my childhood hero is going to be evaluating my combat performance."
"That’s fair."
"And after I establish very clearly that whatever happened while I wasn’t around doesn’t change anything between us."
"Nothing could change anything between us."
The words came out sincere because they were sincere. Whatever complications existed with Camille and Petra and the System’s endless machinations, Sloane occupied a position in my life that was structurally permanent. The Affection Anchor locked her Temptation Gauge at a minimum threshold that made her attachment certain. The Combat Symbiosis made us better together than either of us could be apart. The Emotional Duplex meant we could never truly hide from each other.
She was my first heroine.
She would be my last.
Everything else was just noise.
Sloane’s expression softened as she felt the truth of my words through the bond. The sharpness faded from her eyes, replaced by something warmer and more vulnerable.
"Good answer," she said softly. "That’s a really good answer."
Steele’s whistle signaled the end of cool down stretches, and students began gathering their gear and preparing for the transition to their next scheduled activities. Sloane stood and offered me a hand, pulling me to my feet with a strength that her slender frame belied.
"I have to get back to my class," she said, still holding my hand. "But I meant what I said about lunch."
"I’ll be there."
"And dinner."
"Obviously."
"And the conversation we’re going to have about whatever you’re hiding."
"Looking forward to it."
She smiled, the expression carrying layers of affection and possessiveness and something that might have been the word she had almost said earlier. Then she leaned up and pressed her lips to my cheek, the kiss lingering longer than necessary and landing closer to my mouth than a purely platonic gesture would justify.
"Have a good class," she murmured against my skin. "And try not to kiss anyone else while I’m gone."
"No promises."
Her laugh followed her as she walked away, her blonde ponytail swinging with each step as she rejoined the 1-A students gathering on the other side of the field. I watched her go, appreciating the view and ignoring the various eyes that were definitely tracking our exchange. The kiss still hummed on my skin like a static charge, warm and impossible to dismiss.
Felicity materialized at my elbow approximately three seconds after Sloane disappeared from sight. The timing was surgical in its precision, like she’d been waiting for exactly this moment to launch her investigation.
"So," she said brightly. "That was interesting."
"Was it?"
"The kiss on the cheek. The possessive body language. The obvious tension about something that happened last night." Her blue eyes sparkled with investigative enthusiasm that would have been charming if it wasn’t also slightly terrifying in its focus. "Want to tell me what’s going on, or should I start guessing?"
"Guessing sounds more entertaining."
"For you, maybe." She linked her arm through mine as we walked toward the dormitories, her grip firm enough that extracting myself would have required more effort than cooperation. "For me, it sounds like more work than necessary when you could just tell me directly."
"Where’s the fun in that?"
"Lukas." Her voice dropped to something more serious, the shift immediate and complete. "Two women visited your room last night. One of them is Camille, who you kissed during a training exercise yesterday. The other is Petra, who you ended up in a compromising position with during the same exercise. And now Sloane, who is your actual girlfriend, is making claims on your time and promising uncomfortable conversations about something she hasn’t named yet but definitely saw coming."
"That’s a very accurate summary."
"Thank you. I pride myself on observation." She squeezed my arm, the pressure just shy of uncomfortable. "So what actually happened? Because the timeline here is getting genuinely complicated and I’m running out of polite ways to ask you what the hell you’re doing."
The dormitory building loomed ahead, promising showers and clean clothes and temporary escape from the chaos of the morning. Students filed through the entrance in various states of exhaustion, their conversations filling the air with background noise that made private discussion possible without much effort. Somewhere in that crowd was probably someone else who wanted to have a conversation I wasn’t ready for, but for now it was just Felicity and her investigative momentum.
"Later," I said, echoing Sloane’s word from earlier.
"That’s what you said to her too."
"Consistency is important."
Felicity sighed, the sound carrying genuine frustration beneath its theatrical presentation. "You are the most infuriating person I have ever met."
"You’re the second person to tell me that today."
"Who was the first?"
"Camille."
"Of course it was." She shook her head, blonde hair catching the sunlight in a way that made the movement look deliberately staged even though it probably wasn’t. "Fine. Keep your secrets. For now. But I want the full story eventually, Lukas. All of it. And I mean all of it, not the edited version you’re probably already constructing in your head to make this sound less complicated than it actually is."
"You think I’m constructing an edited version?"
"I know you are. You’ve been doing it since this conversation started." Her smile returned, warmer now but no less sharp around the edges. "I can wait. But not forever. And the longer you wait, the more elaborate my guesses are going to get."
"You’ll get it."
"Promise?"
"Promise."
She studied my face for a moment, searching for signs of deception, then nodded in apparent satisfaction. "Good. Now go shower. You smell like sweat and emotional turmoil."
"That’s very poetic."
"I contain multitudes."
She released my arm and headed toward the women’s entrance, her step lighter than it had been a moment ago. I watched her go, adding another complication to the mental list of romantic entanglements that seemed to multiply every time I turned around.
Sloane. Camille. Petra. Felicity. Rina.
The System had promised me a harem.
It was definitely delivering.
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