Round 20

The building’s wardstone pulsed again, a slow beat that seemed to draw breath from the entire structure. The old wood groaned in response, timbers shifting with a sound like ancient bones settling after too long under strain. Jeane drifted closer to Silra, her wings half-spread as if for balance or perhaps instinctive preparation—it was hard to tell which in a succubus whose natural state seemed designed for chaos.

"What exactly are you proposing?" Jeane asked, her voice low enough that Hera couldn’t hear across the room. But the building’s next groan made it clear that subtlety wasn’t going to work much longer. Silra met her gaze with an expression that said they were out of options and into consequences. "We need energy flow," Silra said flatly. "The wardstone's designed to draw sexual energy from this space—it's a relief valve for the building's own... tension." She pulled out one of the sleek toys, holding it up between them. "We transfer through these. No direct contact with the stone itself."

Jeane’s eyes lit up despite the gravity of the situation. Or perhaps because of it—the wardstone’s pulse had already quickened, the building groaning louder in response. The foundation shifted again, a subtle tremor that made Halie frown. This wasn’t just wind or settling anymore; something fundamental was changing in the structure.

"Transfer?" Jeane repeated, her smile growing predatory. "You mean we fuck each other and feed the stone secondhand? How deliciously indirect." She reached out to trace Silra’s jawline with one finger, ignoring the way Hera watched from across the room. "And what happens if we don't? What's the worst-case scenario here?"

Silra didn’t flinch from the touch but her eyes stayed cold. "The worst case? The wardstone draws direct from us instead of filtered through the stone. It takes whatever energy it wants, however it wants." Another pulse hammered through the building, the timbers screaming in protest. The entire floor seemed to tilt for a moment before settling back. "Or the pressure builds too high and the structural integrity fails completely. We're twenty stories up, Jeane—either way, this ends badly unless we manage that energy flow."

Jeane’s smile didn’t waver despite the building’s increasingly violent protests. If anything, the danger seemed to excite her more. "Well then," she purred, leaning closer until their faces were inches apart. "I suppose we'd better get started before the floor gives out beneath us." Her hand slid down from Silra’s jaw to rest possessively on her hip. The wardstone pulsed again in response, faster now, and the building answered with a groan that sounded almost like pain.