Jason left Thalion alone with his thoughts.

The elf was still sitting on the edge of the bed, his silver hair hanging over his pale face, his hands folded in his lap. The tears had stopped. The shaking had stopped. But something else had taken their place—something Jason couldn’t quite name.

He didn’t want to be in that room anymore.

So he walked.

The streets of the adventurer’s district were quieter now, the sun dipping low, casting long shadows across the cobblestones. Jason shoved his hands into his pockets and let his mind wander.

This world had sex as a major component. He had learned that quickly. Tauriel. Ylva. Even Mira, with her deliberate nakedness.

But Jason knew he needed strength.

Real strength. The kind that didn’t come from being charming or lucky or good in bed. The kind that came from adaptation, from experience, from surviving things that should kill you.

He couldn’t risk what happened to Ylva with those other wolves happening again. The memory still made his blood boil.

They were about to force themselves on her. And as her mate, it was his responsibiloty to protect her even if it came at the cost of his life. Thankfully, her mother had come to protect her. Intervened and slaughtered every single werewolf that had a hand in it.

Otherwise, Jason had no idea what would have happened.

He pushed the thought away and kept walking.

His mind drifted to the merman. The creature he had met in the water during his first chaotic escape. The one who had saved him and Ylva or at least, gave them a fighting chance against their attackers.

Jason wondered what the merman was doing now.

He didn’t understand that creature at all. Why had it chosen to help him? What did it want? It was a blank—a mystery with scales and gills. It had disappeared just as fast as it appeared, without asking for anything. No favors. No promises. No future appointments.

It made Jason uneasy. He preferred enemies he could see.

Ylva was strong enough to protect herself now. Her senses had evolved. Her claws were sharper. Her instincts were faster. And Thalion—broken as he was—could still blow up heads with a flick of his wrist.

Between the two of them, Jason felt almost safe.

Almost.

He was so lost in thought that he almost didn’t hear the voice behind him.

"Hey! You!"

Jason turned around.

Standing a few feet away was the cow woman he had met at the market. The one with the large breasts and the flirtatious smile. The one who had offered him her milk in a way that was definitely not about dairy. 𝓯𝓻𝒆𝙚𝒘𝓮𝙗𝓷𝒐𝓿𝙚𝒍.𝙘𝓸𝙢

But this time, she looked different.

She had a sword in a sheath strapped between her large breasts, the hilt resting just above her cleavage. The leather harness hugged her curves, and the blade looked well-used—scratches on the scabbard, a leather grip worn smooth by frequent handling.

Jason expected her to be embarrassed when he recognized her. After all, their last encounter had been... suggestive. But she actually looked excited to see him. Her brown eyes lit up, and her tail swished behind her.

"D-Do I know you?" Jason asked, because he didn’t want to assume anything. Maybe he had the wrong person. Maybe there was another cow woman with enormous breasts and a suggestive smile.

The cow laughed—a deep, hearty sound that turned heads. Then she grabbed her breasts with both hands and squeezed them together, pressing them until they nearly spilled out of her top.

"Remember now?" she asked, grinning.

Jason’s face went red. He looked left, then right, making sure no one was watching. A few passersby glanced their way, but most were too busy with their own business to care about a flustered man and a laughing cow woman.

"Stop that!" Jason hissed, grabbing her wrists and pushing her hands down. "Right now! Someone could see!"

"So?" She tilted her head, her smile never wavering.

"So my mate will beat my ass, that’s so!" Jason glanced over his shoulder, half-expecting Ylva to appear out of thin air with her claws extended. "She’s jealous. And violent. And she can smell everything."

The cow raised an eyebrow. "Mate? You’re mated?"

"Long story. Don’t ask." Jason released her wrists and stepped back. "And yes, I remember you. Unfortunately."

She laughed again. "It’s a pity, you know."

"What is?"

"That you never got to taste my milk." She said it slowly, deliberately, her eyes half-lidded. "It’s very... nutritious."

Jason gulped.

The truth was, he wanted to. He really did. His mouth had watered at the thought back in the market, and standing here now, with her cleavage inches from his face, the temptation was almost unbearable.

But Ylva’s claws were sharper than his desires.

He quickly changed the topic. "I had no idea you belonged to a guild. The sword, I mean. You’re armed."

The cow glanced down at the blade between her breasts as if she had forgotten it was there. "Oh, this? I’m just a supporter. I don’t partake in the battles. I get my guild members ready for them. Supplies, healing, morale." She winked. "You know. Support."

"Right." Jason nodded slowly. "So the market... you were exchanging items?"

"Sex isn’t the only value of currency, you know." She shrugged. "Sometimes people want things that can’t be bought with a warm body. Herbs. Potions. Information." She paused, her eyes scanning his face. "Speaking of which..."

She stepped closer, her nostrils flaring. Her brown eyes narrowed.

"You’re not an elf," she said. It wasn’t a question.

Jason shook his head. "No."

She studied him—his round ears, his pink skin, his dark hair. "But you look just like them. If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were one. A disfigured one, maybe. Someone who had their ears cut off."

"That’s what everyone keeps saying."

"It’s strange." She tilted her head. "Elves are pale. Like, really pale. But you’re..." She reached out and touched his arm, her fingers warm against his skin. "Different. Pink. Warm. Alive in a way they’re not."

Jason pulled his arm back. "Thanks. I think."

She laughed. "It wasn’t an insult."

Jason glanced around again. They were still in the middle of the street, still visible to anyone who cared to look. If Ylva came looking for him and saw him standing here with a cow woman who had just squeezed her breasts at him...

He grabbed the cow’s wrist and pulled her into a secluded alley between two buildings. It was narrow, dark, shielded from the main street by a stack of wooden crates.

Jason peeked his head out, checking left and right, making sure no one had followed them.

The cow leaned against the wall, crossing her arms beneath her chest, pushing her breasts up even further.

"Ooh," she purred. "Getting me alone already? I thought you said your mate was jealous."

Jason turned back to her, his face serious. "She is. That’s why we’re here. I can’t afford for her to see us talking."

"Talking." The cow’s lips twitched. "Is that what we’re doing?"

Jason returned his head and the creature had already brought out her breasts, dripping with milk.