Ryla blushed, her mind clearly racing as she looked at Genevieve, who was watching her with an eager, challenging grin. But she didn't know what dare she should give.

"I... okay, I have one," Ryla finally said, a little smile playing on her lips.

"Hit me," Genevieve purred, leaning even closer to Zaeryn.

Ryla had a thoughtful look. her gaze flickering to Zaeryn and then back to Genevieve. "I dare you... to call Zaeryn's mom."

Genevieve's grin disappeared, replaced by a look of genuine confusion and disappointment. She was hoping for something steamy, not this.

"Call... his mom? What, and tell her he's past his curfew?"

"No," Ryla said, a mischievous glint. "I dare you to call Ysmeine... and ask her for permission to date him."

The room went dead silent for a beat. "Oh, that's….."Ingrid said trailing off, "A decent one."

Meira's eyes went wide, her hand flying to her mouth to stifle a shocked giggle. Morticia simply raised an elegant eyebrow, a small, clinical smile touching her lips.

Genevieve looked at Zaeryn's genuine calm expression, and her confidence returned in a devastating wave. A slow, predatory smile spread across her face. "Ask his mommy for permission?" she mused, her voice dropping to a throaty purr. "Like I'm some... suitor asking for his hand?"

She let out a low laugh. "Fine. A dare's a dare. I never back down."

She turned to Zaeryn, her smile all teeth. "Hand over your comm, anomaly. What's her number?"

Fast forward a few minutes later, Zaeryn gave her his communication device and she called Ysmeine.

The comm chimed once. Twice. Then it connected.

Ysmeine's holographic image came to life above the comm, not in her full form, but as a clear audio-visual portrait. She was wrapped in a soft-looking robe, her dark hair loose around her shoulders. She looked relaxed, beautiful, and utterly surprised.

"Zaeryn, darling?" her voice filled the room, rich, warm, and possessive. "I thought you were out with your friends? Is everything alright?"

"Yes, everything is fine, we are just playing a game." Zaeryn responded.

Genevieve, undeterred, leaned into the projector's range. "Actually," she began, her voice smooth and charming, "this is Genevieve. I'm one of those friends."

The warmth in Ysmeine's holographic expression vanished instantly, replaced by a cool, assessing stillness. Her smoky green eyes narrowed, her gaze flicking from Genevieve's smiling face to Zaeryn's carefully neutral one. "Genevieve," she repeated, the name sounding like an evaluation. "I see. Is Zaeryn okay?" Although he was right in front of her, she had to confirm just in case.

"Oh, he's more than okay," Genevieve said, her hand returning to Zaeryn's thigh. "He's sitting right here. I'm just calling because, well, I was dared to." She didn't break eye contact with the hologram. "I wanted to formally ask for your permission... to date him."

A heavy, dangerous silence stretched from the comm. Zaeryn could practically feel the temperature in his own home dropping through the connection.

Then, Ysmeine's laughter echoed in the lounge. It wasn't angry. It was low, rich, and dripping with absolute amusement.

"To date him?" she repeated, as if the concept was adorable. "Darling, that's very sweet of you, but I think you have that backward."

Genevieve's confident smirk wavered. "Backward? How so?"

"You don't ask my permission," Ysmeine explained, her voice like silk over steel. "You ask his." Her gaze in the hologram was sharp, dominant. "But, Genevieve," she continued, her voice dropping to that intimate, possessive purr Zaeryn knew so well, "you should know... Zaeryn requires a lot of... attention. He has very specific needs."

She let the implication hang, a clear, unmistakable territorial marking. "Are you sure you're prepared to handle all of that, plus the competition for his attention?"

Genevieve was momentarily speechless. She'd expected anger, confusion, maybe a stern lecture. She had not expected to be so thoroughly and elegantly dismissed by his... mother. Ysmeine hadn't just denied her; she'd, metaphorically, patted her on the head and questioned her capability.

Zaeryn, meanwhile, could only smile.

"Well," Genevieve finally managed, her voice a little strained as she disconnected the call, "she's... certainly something."

Ingrid let out a laugh. "I like her. She's got style."

Genevieve shook off the moment, her competitive fire returning, her gaze now aimed squarely at the man beside her. "Alright," she declared, grabbing the bottle. "My turn to spin."

"Before you spin Genevieve, I'm sorry, but I have to leave, it's getting pretty late," Meira said, already on her feet. Her cheeks were still flushed, and she looked at Zaeryn, "See you tomorrow Zaeryn."

"See you," Zaeryn responded, watching as she walked out with Ryla.

Morticia checked her watch and stood up too, realizing how time was flying. "Yeah, me too." She leaned over and gave Zaeryn a peck on the cheeks, before giving a small, knowing smile and departing.

The door hissed shut, leaving only Zaeryn, Genevieve, and Ingrid in the lounge. The silence that settled was no longer just quiet; it was thick, heavy, and charged with the scent of ale and their combined arousal.

"So, it's just the three of us now, huh?" Zaeryn remarked, his voice a low rumble. He felt the heat radiating from Genevieve beside him, and saw the predatory glint in Ingrid's eyes.

"Yes, but that's a good thing," Ingrid declared. "Now we can really turn it up. From now on, it should only get steamier" Her gaze locked onto Zaeryn, hot and suggestive.

"Sure, I don't mind," Zaeryn responded, his hand finding Genevieve's thigh again.

"Neither do I," Genevieve said. She picked up the bottle and spun it once more.

The bottle whirled between the three of them, the air thick with anticipation. It spun, ticked, and slowed… finally coming to a stop, the neck pointing directly at Zaeryn.

Ingrid let out a low, appreciative laugh. "Oh, this is perfect."

Genevieve's smile was predatory. She leaned in, her hand resting possessively on his thigh. "Well, well… the man of the hour. Truth or Dare, Zaeryn?"

He met her gaze. "Dare,"

"Good choice." Genevieve's eyes flicked to Ingrid, then back to him, a spark of silent challenge burning between them. "Ingrid dared Meira to let you touch her… my dare is a little different." She moved her hand, her fingers brushing slightly higher on his inner thigh. "You're going to do exactly as I say, and neither of us stops until I let go… or until I can't speak anymore."

Ingrid frowned, her voice sharp. "Hey, that's not how it works. You can't dare him to do something to you, that's cheating."

Genevieve laughed, not breaking eye contact with Zaeryn. "Rules? Ingrid, who said anything about rules? A dare's a dare, and I'm waiting for his answer."

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