Chapter 225: Realization
Chapter 225
Daphne
I’m mid-pounce, claws flexing, ready to startle my sweet little bunny into another squeak, when a notification pops up across my vision like an unexpected slap.
[POPPY LONGEAR HAS LEFT THE HAREM]
...Wait. What?
I skid to a halt on the mattress, blinking. That can’t be right. I had a whole multi-stage plan for Poppy’s dramatic exit—slow burns of jealousy, a public scene or two, maybe a few whispered rumors to light the match. It was supposed to be my chaos to orchestrate.
"System," I call silently. The world drains of color instantly; time freezes mid-breath. Nima is paused on the bed, wide-eyed and adorable, mid-flinch from my nearly-pounce. The familiar purple orb floats into view, humming like a smug little cat.
"What happened?" I demand.
404 flickers and projects a translucent screen before me. I cross my arms as the playback begins: the snake girl—Ves... Ves... Ves-something, the one with the scales and the unblinking eyes—slithers up to Poppy’s dorm. I watch the entire encounter, every hissed insult and bristled ear. By the end, I’m sitting back on my heels, tail curling with interest.
"Oh. Oh."
Here I thought Lumiya was the puritan, pedigree-worshipping snob. Turns out Snake-Skin’s been sitting on a whole pile of self-righteous bile. Poppy didn’t just crack under it, she detonated.
I whistle low, impressed. "No wonder she walked. Any self-respecting girl would."
I tap my claw thoughtfully against my knee. This... changes my plans. The fun kind of change. Less work for me and more chaos already seeded into Felix’s perfect golden circle. Delicious.
"Thanks, 404," I murmur. The orb pulses, smug as ever. "We’re going to get along just fine."
Color rushes back into the world, time resumes.
Nima blinks, mid-turn, and squeaks as I finally complete my leap, tackling her to the bed in one smooth motion.
Plans can wait. Bunny comes first.
I pounce, pinning her under me, and my tongue slides over her cheek. She makes a face, wrinkling her nose, but I know that little twitch in her ears means she secretly likes it.
I trail lower, tasting her neck, her collarbone, savoring the way her body arches at every touch.
Aww. This flimsy little nightdress. Too cute. Too easy.
With one sharp rip, it’s gone, fluttering to the floor. Her gasp is music, and I don’t stop. My mouth wanders over her chest, across soft skin, teasing and nipping until I reach her peaks.
She shudders as I take one into my mouth, suckling, licking. Everything about her is sweet—soft and tasty and mine.
Her breath quickens. Her nipples stiffen under my tongue, and the little sound she makes—half moan, half sigh—has my tail curling.
"D-Daphne, I feel weird," she whispers.
I grin against her. "How weird?" I ask, mouth full, teasing.
"You know..." she breathes, and I chuckle darkly.
My hand glides to her thigh, aching to touch more, but she squeezes her legs tight. Like every night, she lets me tease, kiss, play—but never there.
"I can make the weirdness go away, you know," I murmur against her neck, meaning every word.
She doesn’t move. Doesn’t open.
"Don’t you trust me?" I whisper, stealing a kiss from her lips.
She shakes her head. "No."
I laugh softly. Same as always. Of course she doesn’t trust the big bad panther hovering over her. That’s half the fun, right?
"You know I’d never hurt you, right?" I murmur. She nods.
Like every night, I push. I tease. I try my luck. And she takes it, silent and trembling.
Obviously I’m not coercing her... am I?
The thought drops like a stone in my gut. My grin fades.
I freeze mid-kiss.
I pull back, heart hammering in a way that has nothing to do with hunger.
I like this game between us. I love the chase. But what if I’ve crossed a line and she doesn’t know how to tell me? What if she’s only nodding because she’s too scared not to?
Fuck.
I climb off her abruptly.
She sits up, confused, clutching the sheets to her chest. "Daphne?"
"I’m sorry," I mutter, heading to the closet. I yank out one of my shirts and toss it over.
Before she can say a word, before I can see her face and spiral worse, I leap out the window and land on my favorite branch.
Cold night air hits me like a slap.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
I love being a panther—the chase, the thrill, the tension. But am I losing what makes me human? What if she’s been too scared to say no all along?
Dammit.
***
Nima
Something is wrong with Daphne.
She’s still there—still showing up in the places I am, still calling me to her room, still watching me with those golden eyes that make my stomach feel like it’s full of bees. But she’s different.
She doesn’t touch me anymore. Not the way she used to. No playful flicks of her tail brushing my legs, no chin resting on my shoulder while I sketch, no sudden kisses just because she felt like it.
She’s around, but it feels like she’s keeping herself locked behind some invisible wall.
My palms are clammy as I sit on Poppy’s bed. I don’t have friends but she’s the closest thing I have to one. So here I am, an intruder among her soft throw pillows, chewing on my lip while she eats a salad.
"I noticed," Poppy says finally, spearing a carrot with her fork. "But I didn’t want to say anything."
I groan and bury my face in my hands.
"Maybe she’s finally losing interest?" she adds casually.
Her words hit me like a blade to the chest.
It feels like my ribs collapse inward. I can’t breathe. Literally can’t breathe.
Panic claws up my throat and I start gasping, clutching at my chest.
I can’t breathe.
No. No, that can’t be true.
"Hey, hey, breathe," Poppy says sharply, grabbing my shoulders.
"Deep breaths. In. Out. In. Out. Look at me."
Her voice cuts through the static in my head. I follow her instructions, dragging in ragged air until it stops catching painfully in my lungs. My body slowly stops shaking.
"I’m sorry," Poppy says, looking stricken. "That was thoughtless. I didn’t know you liked her that much."
Apparently neither did I.