The first light of dawn barely pierced the thick mist of Mistwood when Hiroto opened his eyes.
His body still hummed with the memory of last night. The feeling of two different hands on his cock — Alyra's warm and possessive, Lirael's cool and testing — refused to fade. He could still taste their lips, still feel the way he had grabbed their wrists and told them exactly how he wanted to be touched.
Last night I stopped being the one who just reacts. I want them. Not just their bodies… I want them to look at me and know I can take what I desire. That's what being the Harem Lord means.
He sat up slowly. Alyra was still pressed against his side, her tail draped over his thigh, one hand resting lazily on his stomach, fingers dangerously close to the half-hard bulge in his pants. Even in sleep she was claiming territory.
Sylvara sat a few meters away, back against a tree. Her eyes were closed, but her posture was too perfect. The faint outline of her bulge was still visible against her pants — a clear sign that last night's tension hadn't fully left her either.
Lirael leaned against another tree at the edge of the clearing, arms crossed, watching him with sharp amethyst eyes. The morning light made her silver-white hair glow. Her tight leather armor hugged every curve, the prominent bulge between her legs impossible to ignore.
Lirael pushed off the tree and walked straight toward him, stopping only when she was close enough that her knee brushed his thigh.
"You're still hard," she said quietly, voice smooth but laced with dark amusement. Without waiting for permission, she reached down and traced two fingers slowly over the growing tent in his pants. "Did you dream about our hands again… or were you imagining what you'd do if you had us both at the same time?"
Hiroto's breath hitched. Instead of pulling away, he caught her wrist — not roughly, but firmly — and held it there for a moment, letting her feel how hard he was.
"I told you last night," he said, voice low and steady, "if you're going to touch me… do it when I say."
Alyra stirred at that exact moment. She sat up, immediately pressing her soft breasts against his back and wrapping one arm around his waist. Her hand slid down and joined Lirael's, cupping him possessively from the other side.
"He's mine in the morning," Alyra purred, giving him a slow squeeze while shooting Lirael a sharp, yandere look. "If you want to play, shadow girl, you'll have to wait your turn."
Sylvara finally opened her eyes. She didn't move from her spot, but her gaze lingered on the three of them — especially on Hiroto's hand still holding Lirael's wrist. A faint flush colored her cheeks, and she shifted slightly, her own bulge twitching visibly against her pants.
"You three are going to make this journey very… distracting," she said dryly, though her voice carried a rough edge. "If we don't start moving soon, we'll never leave this clearing."
Hiroto didn't let go of Lirael's wrist immediately. He looked at her directly, then at Alyra.
"Both of you… ease up," he ordered, voice firm but calm. "We have a long day ahead and I need my head clear. Tonight… we'll see."
Alyra pouted but slowly withdrew her hand, though her tail stayed wrapped around his leg. Lirael held his gaze for a long second, then pulled her fingers back with a faint, challenging smirk.
"You're getting bolder every hour," she murmured. "I wonder how long until you actually try to take what you want instead of just telling us to slow down."
Hiroto stood up, adjusting his clothes while trying to will his erection down. The memory of last night — commanding their hands, kissing them, feeling their bodies respond — made it difficult.
As they broke camp and continued deeper into the trees, the mist grew a faint purple tint. Tall trunks covered in glowing runes pulsed like veins. The air smelled of ozone and sweet night flowers.
Lirael walked closer to Hiroto than before, her shoulder occasionally brushing his.
"You're different this morning," she said quietly, only for him to hear. "Last night you were shaking. Today you're trying to hold the leash. I wonder how long you can keep it."
Hiroto glanced at her, a small, confident smile tugging at his lips.
"Long enough to make you want to hand it over."
Lirael's eyes flashed with surprise and something hotter. She didn't reply, but the faint twitch in her bulge told him everything.
The real battle in Mistwood wasn't just against the corrupted.
It was against the growing heat between all of them — and Hiroto's determination to be the one holding the reins.