Round 37

Hera's entrance into the orgy scene is a jolt of reality. The penthouse suddenly feels smaller, the air thick with more than just sweat and pheromones—now there's the sharp tang of adrenaline mixed in. Her amber eyes take in everything at once: Abby looking dazed but unharmed, Silra coiled like a spring ready to release, and Jeane—the succubus whose wings are now fully extended, a display that makes Hera's stomach twist with recognition.

She moves without thinking, positioning herself between the host and her friend. The words come out before she can filter them: "Abby, are you alright? I'm so sorry this happened." Her hand reaches out, palm up in invitation—an offer of escape, of normalcy. But her eyes keep cutting sideways to Silra, trying to read intent in the rogue's stillness.

The thanks is genuine but cautious. Hera owes Silra for intervening, but that doesn't mean she trusts her completely. The woman with the blade has her own agenda—everyone here does—and Hera isn't naive enough to think she's made a friend today. No, what she needs right now is...

(103 words)