Morning.

Sunlight filtered through the translucent walls of the residential chamber, casting everything in a soft golden glow.

Helena's eyes fluttered open.

Slowly. Groggily.

Her body felt... heavy. Like she'd been crying for hours. Which, technically, she had.

Her face was pressed against something warm. Solid. She could hear a heartbeat—steady, rhythmic—beneath her ear.

For a moment, she just lay there. Confused. Disoriented.

Then memory flooded back.

Last night, he was telling her to reveal, then turned to leave and burst on her, making her curse him.

Helena's eyes snapped fully open.

She lifted her head sharply, looking down.

Empty sheets.

Her hands shot out, patting the bed beside her desperately.

'Cold.'

No warmth. No body. No—

"Young Master?" Her voice came out hoarse. Panicked.

Helena twisted, head whipping around, brown eyes wide with fear.

"Young Master?!"

The bed was empty. She was alone. He wasn't—

'Did he leave?'

'Did he abandon me again?'

Her breath came faster. Shorter. Chest tightening with that old, familiar terror.

"No, no, no—where—"

Helena tried to push herself up. Her arms trembled, barely supporting her weight. She needed to find him, needed to—

BONK!

"'Ow—!'"

Her forehead slammed into something hard.

Helena jerked back, hand flying to her head, eyes watering from the sudden impact.

"What the hell are you doing?" Viktor's voice came from directly in front of her—groggy, confused. "Are you trying to attack me for last night?"

Helena blinked rapidly, vision clearing.

Viktor was 'right there.'

He'd been sitting up beside her—probably watching her sleep—and when she'd lurched forward, she'd headbutted him square in the face.

He rubbed his nose, grimacing. "Sigh, Helena, you've got a hard head—"

"'Young Master!'"

Helena's voice 'cracked.'

Her eyes filled with tears instantly. Her whole body trembled.

And then she 'launched' herself at him.

"'Oof—!'"

Viktor's eyes went wide as Helena's full weight crashed into his chest; if not for her big shock absorbers, he might have broken two ribs. Her arms wrapped around him with desperate strength, fingers digging into his back like she was trying to merge their bodies.

The momentum sent them both falling backward.

THUMP.

Viktor's back hit the mattress. Helena landed on top of him, her massive breasts squishing against his chest, her thick thighs straddling his hips.

She buried her face in his neck and 'sobbed.'

Not quiet tears. Full, body-wracking sobs that shook them both.

"Hey, hey—" Viktor's hands came up automatically, one wrapping around her waist, the other stroking her hair. "Helena, what—"

"'I thought—hic—I thought you l-left—'"

Her words dissolved into incomprehensible crying.

Viktor's chest tightened.

'Shit.'

He'd just been sitting there. Watching her sleep. Thinking about everything he'd seen in her memories. He hadn't meant to scare her.

"I'm right here," he murmured, his hand rubbing slow circles on her back. "I'm not going anywhere."

Helena's sobs didn't stop. If anything, they got 'worse.'

Her fingers clutched at his shoulders, his back, anywhere she could reach—like she was trying to confirm he was real, solid, 'there.'

Viktor let her cry. Just held her. Let his warmth seep into her trembling body.

After what felt like an eternity, Helena's sobs finally quieted to hiccups. Her breathing evened out slightly, though she still clung to him with desperate strength.

Viktor chuckled softly. The sound rumbled through his chest into hers.

"Hey, my lady," he said, voice gentle and teasing, "aren't you being a bit too proactive? Jumping on me first thing in the morning?"

Helena's breath hitched.

Her lips trembled against his neck.

"I—hic—I will not tell you—"

Viktor blinked. "...What?"

Helena pulled back slightly, just enough to meet his eyes. Her brown eyes were red and swollen, tear tracks staining her cheeks.

"Why I know about the system," she whispered, voice hoarse. "And the... the memories. I—hic—I won't tell you."

There was 'steel' beneath the tears. Determination mixed with fear.

Viktor stared at her for a moment.

Then he smiled.

Soft. Genuine.

"Okay," he said simply. "Fine. Don't tell me."

Helena blinked. "...What?"

"I said—" Viktor's hands moved, sliding from her back to her thick waist, gripping gently, "—I'm fine with it. You don't have to tell me."

His thumbs rubbed slow circles on her soft skin.

"If you want to keep your secrets, keep them. I'm not going anywhere, Helena. Not this time."

Helena's eyes filled with fresh tears.

But these were different. Not panic. Not fear.

'Relief.'

"Young Master..." Her voice broke.

Viktor's hand came up, cupping her cheek, thumb brushing away a tear.

"Besides," he added, grin turning slightly mischievous, "you're too useful now. A wife who can grow gardens? I'd be an idiot to let you go."

Helena let out a sound between a sob and a laugh.

Her body relaxed slightly, some of the desperate tension draining away.

Viktor took advantage of the moment.

His hands slid down from her waist to her hips, gripping her thick thighs. And then he 'lifted.'

"'Ah—!'"

Helena gasped as her body rose. Viktor sat up smoothly, his core strength impressive, and adjusted her position.

Her legs—which had been straddling his hips—now wrapped around his waist properly. Her thick thighs locked behind his back, pussy pressed directly against his morning wood, trapped between their bodies.

Helena's arms flew around his neck, holding on instinctively.

"Young Master, what are you—"

"Bath time," Viktor said simply.

He rubbed his face against her cheek—a gesture surprisingly affectionate, almost cat-like—before standing.

Helena clung to him, her massive breasts squishing against his chest with each step he took.

His hands gripped her ass to support her weight, fingers digging into the soft flesh, parting her cheeks slightly.

Helena felt it—the exposure. Her asshole and pussy twitched, both still sensitive from yesterday's activities.

She glanced down between their bodies. Could see his cock—thick, hard, pressed against her belly—leaving a smear of pre-cum on her skin.

Her face flushed crimson.

"Y-Young Master..."

"Hm?" Viktor's voice was innocent, but the smirk on his face was anything but.

He walked toward the bathroom, each step making her bounce slightly in his grip, her breasts jiggling against his chest.

Helena buried her face in the crook of his neck, too embarrassed to maintain eye contact.

And then—on impulse, instinct, 'need'—her lips found his skin.

She 'bit.'

Not hard. Just enough to leave a mark. Then sucked. Then kissed.

"Mmm..." Viktor's groan was low, appreciative. "Marking me already? Possessive this morning, aren't we?"

Helena's only response was to nibble harder, her teeth dragging across his pulse point.

They entered the bathroom.

It was surprisingly well-appointed for a dungeon tower. White marble everywhere—floors, walls, the massive bathtub sunk into the ground. Viktor had clearly put effort into making this space comfortable.

The water in the tub was already steaming.

Viktor had prepared it earlier using a heating artifact—a simple enchanted stone that kept water at the perfect temperature. The pipes connecting to a tank on the roof were his own crude plumbing system, molded and shaped by hand.

'I'll need to create a proper water heater eventually,' Viktor thought absently. 'Maybe even electricity. But that's a problem for later.'

Right now, his focus was on the woman in his arms.

Viktor stepped into the tub, water rising around his legs, then his thighs.

He sat down slowly, letting Helena slide down with him.

She settled in the water, her legs still wrapped around his waist, her ass resting on his thighs. Her pussy pressed directly against his cock—not penetrating, just... 'touching.' Teasing.

The water rose to just below their chests, lapping at the undersides of Helena's massive breasts.

Viktor leaned back slightly, hands still gripping her waist, and looked at her.

Helena looked back.

Her brown eyes were still watery, but calmer now. The panic had faded, replaced by something softer.

"I'm not angry at you," Helena whispered suddenly.

Viktor blinked. "Hm?"

"Last night." Her hands moved to rest on his shoulders. "When I yelled. When I... when I said those things. I wasn't—I'm 'not' angry at you."

Her voice was small. Vulnerable.

Viktor's hands slid up from her waist to her back, pulling her closer until their foreheads touched.

"Really?" he murmured. "I thought you hate me."

Helena shook her head immediately. Vehemently.

"No." Her voice was firm despite the tears still clinging to her lashes. "I can never hate you. I was just... scared."

"Scared?"

"That you'd leave again." Her fingers tightened on his shoulders. "That I'd wake up and you'd be gone. That I'd... lose you."

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