The bustle of the city surrounded them—pedestrians going about their day, vintage cars zipping through the wide spacious streets, and the hum of lively conversation between pets and their masters.

“They’re not used to being out in the world, are they?” Felix asked after a moment, breaking the silence.

“No,” Thel replied, his voice calm and expression neutral. “Most humans aren’t. We’re rarely allowed outside unless accompanied by a Regal One, and even then, it’s usually under strict supervision.”

You c an fi nd t he la te st cha pte rs at ( th e bl mu se . c o m )

Felix frowned, it was inconceivable to be so restricted. “Why?”

“It’s safer that way,” Thel said simply. “We’re considered vulnerable. Fragile and in need of cherishing. The younger we are, the more tightly we’re guarded. Humans under twenty are typically kept within finishing schools or other controlled environments until they’re chosen by a Regal One.”

Felix’s frown deepened. “That sounds… stifling.”

He looked around at the surroundings that were designed to cater to both species, with wide sidewalks and plenty of open-air cafes. For a moment, Felix felt conflicted. His pets were just as unfamiliar with this world as he was, and they had spent so long confined to their previous lives.

Thel glanced at him, dark eyes assessing. “It can be. But it’s the system. And we humans are not completely without choice. We can also ‘choose’ our masters as well. The Nurterer Division ensures humans are raised in ways that maximize their potential and societal contributions.”

Felix raised an eyebrow. “The Nurterer Division… that’s the one that oversees the Ivory Sanctuary, right?”

“Yes,” Thel confirmed. “They’re responsible for nurturing the best and brightest Regal Ones—the future leaders, combat elites, and societal pillars. But their influence extends beyond that. They also manage human orphanages and finishing schools for pets, shaping human pets into valuable companions.”

Felix tilted his head, intrigued. “I always thought the Nurterer Division was… less important than the other two. Leader Division commands respect, and Combat Division carries the burden of defense. Nurterers just seemed, I don’t know, like caretakers.”

Thel’s lips curved in a faint smile, his first genuine expression since Felix had met him. “That’s a common misconception. Their work isn’t as glamorous or visible, but it’s no less vital. Without them, there would be no polished pets, no future leaders, and no stability in society.”

Felix absorbed this new perspective, his arms swinging thoughtfully. “I know you received a fellowship to attend the Ivory Sanctuary for two years. Did you go to one of their schools before that?”

“Yes,” Thel said, his voice quieter now. “I grew up in one of their orphanages and tuition at their finishing schools is free for us.”

Felix looked up in surprise. “An orphanage?”

Thel nodded, his gaze fixed ahead. “It wasn’t bad. The Nurterer Division provides a stipend for each child in their care—enough for food, clothing, and education. But that’s all it covers. Anything beyond the basics, like toys or books outside of school materials, was… out of reach.”

Felix studied Thel’s composed expression, a pang of empathy stirring within him. “That must have been hard.”

“It wasn’t ideal,” Thel admitted, his voice steady. “But it was fair. I had what I needed to grow up healthy and educated. And I learned early on how to focus on what truly mattered.”

“Like your future,” Felix observed perceptively.

Thel’s intense dark gaze fixed onto Felix’s own holly berry ones. “Exactly.” He made no secret of his driven, ambitious nature.

Their conversation paused as they passed a small bookstore with an intricately painted sign that read Whiskered Pages. Thel’s gaze lingered on the storefront, his usually sharp eyes softening imperceptibly.

“Do you want to go in?” Felix asked, following his line of sight.

Thel hesitated, his expression unreadable. “I don’t want to impose.”

“You want to,” Felix interrupted, a knowing smile playing on his lips. “Come on.”

Before Thel could protest further, Felix opened the door, the soft chime of a bell welcoming them inside.

The bookstore was cozy and quiet, the scent of hand bound books mingling with faint traces of coffee from a corner café. Rows of wooden shelves stretched to the ceiling, filled with books of every genre imaginable.

Thel stepped inside cautiously, his gaze sweeping over the shelves with a mixture of curiosity and longing. His usually rigid posture seemed to relax, his fingers brushing lightly against the spines of the books as if they were fragile treasures.

Felix watched him raptly. He could almost imagine a little dark haired boy saving his leftover stipend money to buy a book on one of the rare outings to the city the orphanage and schools must’ve organized every now and then. “You really like books, huh?”

Thel nodded, his voice unconsciously taking on a hushed cadence. “Books were my escape growing up. They were the one indulgence I could afford, even if I had to borrow them or save for them for a long time.”

“What do you like to read?” Felix asked, genuinely curious.

“Historical strategy,” Thel replied promptly. “Stories of war, political intrigue, the rise and fall of civilizations. There’s always something to learn.”

Felix couldn’t help but side-eye Thel. A history buff, specifically on military and politics. Who would’ve thought? “You know, you’re the first person I’ve seen smile at the thought of war.”

Thel glanced at him, a flicker of amusement in his dark eyes. “War isn’t the point. Understanding the mechanics of power, the strategies, decisions and consequences—that’s what interests me.”

Felix couldn’t help asking in curiosity, “Is that why you chose a Regal One from the Combat Division? But why not the Leader Division then?”

After learning that pets could also choose their masters, at least within a sense, he was instantly intrigued by the reasoning and motives of his own humans.

Thel gave him a slow sweep from head to toe and then back up again from over the top of an open book. It was a strange combination of clinical and also something more suggestive. Felix didn’t know whether to blush or not. So he settled on raising an eyebrow in question.

Thel finally opened his mouth to answer, “Among the Regal Ones who chose me, there were indeed some from the Leader Division.” At this, Thel paused before continuing meaningfully, “But none of them showed potential to reach S-Rank.”

He dipped his head slightly in a polite nod, “There were many factors in play, but I’d say that was the deciding one for me. If you look at the histories of the existing S-Rank Regal Ones, nearly more than half come from the Combat Division.” 

Thel flashed a pearly smile at Felix’s stunned expression. “And I thought my chances would be higher with a fighter than a paper pusher or a ‘caregiver’ as you say.”

He then strode off in a visibly good mood. Leaving Felix to stare after him, already round eyes looking even more rounded.

Felix didn’t know whether to be flattered or amused. But one thing was for sure, Thel had completely overthrown his initial perception of him. The man wasn’t just a blunt jerk. He was also an ambitious history buff with a gambling streak.

Unfortunately for Thel, Felix didn’t think he would be reaching S-Rank any time soon, or if ever.

After a while, Thel selected a small stack of books and approached the register. He hesitated, his fingers brushing over the spines as if weighing his decision.

“They’re a bit… expensive,” Thel murmured, his voice carefully neutral.

Before he could put the books back, Felix stepped forward and handed over his credit card. “I’ve got it.”

Thel blinked, his composure slipping for a moment. “Felix, you don’t have to—”

“I want to,” Felix interrupted, his eyes taking on a look of determination. “What kind of owner lets their pet pay for their own purchases?” Albrecht was the anomaly here. Even among pets who came from wealthy backgrounds—due mostly to their parents being pets of wealthy Regal Ones working in the financial and commerce sectors—they relied on their own masters to provide for them. Not the other way around. 

From their parents’ masters to their own masters, most humans never had to worry about their livelihood. And even for humans like Thel who had no parents, there was the Nurterer Division to fall back on.

Thel stared at him, a flicker of emotion crossing his face—gratitude, perhaps, though it was quickly masked by his usual calm. “Thank you,” he said quietly.

Felix waved him off, feeling a warmth spread through his chest. “It’s nothing.”

As the clerk bagged the books, Thel glanced at Felix, his expression thoughtful. “You’re… not what I expected.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” Felix said, smiling.

Thel didn’t respond, though the attentive look in dark eyes became more focused when they landed on Felix’s face.

The moment was interrupted by the sudden arrival of Virgil, who appeared out of nowhere with a large bag of snacks slung over his shoulder and a maniacal grin on his face as if he’d just pulled off a daring heist.

“There you are!” he called out. “I thought you got lost.”

“That’s what I want to say,” Felix retorted. 

“Well, anyway. Thought you might want to try some of this,” he said casually, tossing the bag at Felix.

Felix caught it, sighing. “Virgil, where did you even get these?”

“Sweet shops, cake shops, pastry shops,” Virgil replied with a shrug. “Figured you’d appreciate a little variety. Oh! And I also got you something special.”

He rummaged through the bag, pulling out a small, peculiar trinket—a cat’s paw. “The Nine Lives Temple was giving it out. A good luck charm,” Virgil explained with a smirk, handing it to Felix.

Felix stared at the trinket. “Thanks, I think.” It was kind of cute.

Albrecht arrived next, several shop assistants laden with expensive-looking shopping bags trailing behind him. He flashed a satisfied smile, clearly having wiped through the inventories of the boutiques on the block for luxury shopping they had been earlier.

“Ah, there you are, my dear,” Albrecht exclaimed, green eyes gleaming. “I picked out a few more essentials for you. You must let me see you try them on later.”

“…” Was he now Albrecht’s life size barbie doll?! Outwardly, Felix could only say thanks, albeit a bit warily. 

“There’s no need for thanks between master and pet,” Albrecht replied with a dismissive wave.

Felix’s eye twitched and he was just about to attempt—again—to rectify Albrecht’s extravagance, when he realized someone was missing. He glanced around, his brows furrowing in concern.

“Where’s Sorath?” he asked.

Virgil shrugged. “No idea. Last I saw, he was outside.”

Albrecht browsed disinterestedly through the collection of cheap fountain pens at the display case next to the cashier. “There is a mechanic shop nearby. Probably got distracted by something to add onto that bike of his.”

Felix frowned, stepping toward the door. “We should find him.”

The group followed him outside, where they were immediately greeted by a commotion a few steps down the street. A small crowd of humans and Regal Ones had gathered, their phones raised to snap pictures and record videos. In the middle of the frenzy stood Sorath, his usually relaxed demeanor replaced by visible annoyance.

Felix became more bewildered as he approached the scene, catching snippets of excited chatter.

“It’s him! Mister Mzia!”
“He’s even more gorgeous in person!”
“Isn’t he the winner from last year?”

Felix blinked, glancing back at Virgil and Albrecht. “Mister Mzia?”

Albrecht chuckled, clearly amused. “Oh, you didn’t know? Sorath was last year’s winner of the Mister Mzia pageant. Quite the achievement, though I imagine he’d rather not be reminded.”

Virgil smirked. “That explains the crowd. Guess fame isn’t as glamorous as it seems.”

You c an fi nd t he la te st cha pte rs at ( th e bl mu se . c o m )

Felix groaned, rubbing his temple. “Great. How do we get him out of there?”

As the group debated how to extract Sorath from the crowd, Virgil suddenly smacked a fist against his palm, eyes sparkling with mischief. “I’ve got this,” he said, already rifling through his bag of snacks.

AN: It’s finally Thel’s turn for some characterization 😌

Has anyone changed their perception of him after this chapter? 🤔

The bustling downtown district of Mzia Capital was alive with energy, a kaleidoscope of sights, sounds, and smells. Towering glass buildings reflected the morning sunlight, while streets teemed with a mix of humans and Regal Ones going about their day. Shops displayed colorful wares in their windows, and cafes spilled over with lively patrons. Somewhere in the distance, a street performer’s saxophone weaved an enchanting melody through the air.

Felix led his group through the crowded streets, his silvery-white hair catching the light as he tried to maintain some semblance of order. His four pets trailed behind—or, more accurately, around him—each moving at their own pace, making it impossible to keep everyone together for long.

You c an fi nd t he la te st cha pte rs at ( th e bl mu se . c o m )

Albrecht—having won two out of three games of rock paper scissors much to everyone’s chagrin—steered the group toward an upscale boutique, its polished glass doors flanked by two impeccably dressed attendants. “We absolutely must get you a proper wardrobe,” Albrecht declared, ushering Felix inside before he could protest.

Because apparently, hoodies and combat boots were not proper wear.

The boutique’s polished floors gleamed under the soft glow of chandelier lights, and racks of tailored clothing were displayed like art pieces. Albrecht was in his element, speaking with the staff as though he owned the place—all the while determinedly carrying out his shopping spree as if it was not just fun but also a matter of the utmost importance.

The other three had wisely slipped away to some other part of the boutique the instant they were corralled through the doors. Leaving Felix to fend for himself as an unwilling participant in this whirlwind of fabrics, colors, and relentless commentary. 

“These garments,” Albrecht explained as he pulled Felix toward a fitting room, “are designed specifically for Regal Ones. They shift seamlessly with your transformations, ensuring you’re never… exposed.”

Felix blinked. “That’s a thing?”

“Of course,” Albrecht said, rolling his eyes. “You didn’t think your clothes would miraculously reappear after you transformed, did you?”

Felix flushed, recalling his transformations during the day of the choosing ceremony and how his clothes had remained intact. He’d assumed it was standard for Regal Ones, kind of like the cat version of magical girls. But apparently, his clothes were made of this special material and he wasn’t any the wiser. 

“They’re expensive, naturally,” Albrecht continued, “but for someone of your status, they’re a necessity.”

Felix’s lips twitched in speechlessness. He asked hopefully, gesturing to the pile in his arms, “Well, is this all the clothes, then?”

Albrecht widened his clear green eyes, as if not spending an entire morning in fitting rooms was inconceivable. “Have you forgotten the fitting part? We’ve barely started!”

Before Felix could argue further, like who needs to try out the clothes when the size is correct and next time can they do the shopping online instead, a cheery voice interrupted.

“Hello there, sir!”

A salescat, a tall Regal One with chestnut-brown hair, and an overly cheerful voice, appeared seemingly out of nowhere. She wore a bright smile that screamed corporate enthusiasm.

“I couldn’t help but notice you browsing! Might I suggest this?” the salescat beamed, holding up an ensemble that could only be described as aggressively shiny. It consisted of a metallic silver blazer and matching pants that seemed to reflect the light with every movement. The fabric looked plastic and shiny, like vinyl, and Felix could feel his mouth dropping in silent horror.

“Absolutely not,” Felix began, but the salescat ignored him, holding the outfit closer.

“Now, now, this is a bestseller! Perfect for someone with your complexion. Just imagine how you’ll steal the show at any event—”

Albrecht swooped in like a knight in vintage suit armor, cutting off the salescat with a dazzling yet biting smile. “Miss, while your enthusiasm is… commendable, my master has far more refined tastes.”

He plucked the shiny monstrosity from the salescat’s hands and tossed it back onto the rack with a flourish. “Come along, dearest. We have real clothes to try.”

Wanting to put some distance between himself and that fashion mishap, Felix allowed Albrecht to whisk him toward the fitting rooms without much protest. The salescat was left staring after them with a fixed smile that now seemed more strained than cheerful.

The fitting room was spacious, lined with mirrors that reflected every angle and a plush bench that matched the theme of opulence. Felix stood awkwardly in the center, holding the pile of clothes Albrecht had deemed suitable.

“You don’t need to come in with me,” Felix said, glancing nervously at the door.

“Nonsense,” Albrecht replied, stepping inside and closing the door behind him. “It’s a pet’s duty to serve their master. Besides, I’ve dressed the Great Me countless times before. You’re in expert hands.”

Felix would have facepalmed but his hands were a little busy at the moment. In any case, the flush that was crawling up his neck to his face was already enough to make his point. “I can handle it myself.”

Albrecht blinked those green eyes, before affecting a moue of disappointment. “But dearest, I only wish to help.”

“Out,” Felix insisted flatly.

Albrecht sighed dramatically, a hand over his heart. “You wound me, my master. But if you insist…” He gave Felix a lingering look, leaf green eyes with a particular shine in them, before stepping out with an overly exaggerated slump to his shoulders.

The door clicked shut, leaving Felix alone in the fitting room, his face burning as he tried to regain his composure.

On the other side of the door.

Albrecht was met with the unimpressed stares of Sorath, Virgil, and Thel, who had all wandered back toward the fitting rooms, originally out of curiosity—or, in Virgil’s case, to laugh at Felix at his expense. Only to discover that the fool was them, apparently.

Virgil tilted his head, his expression a mix of mock concern and faux sweetness. “What’s the matter, Fitzgerald? Did our dear master not appreciate your… services?”

Albrecht sniffed, straightening his cravat with a flourish. “Unlike some people, I am perfectly capable of showing affection with class and sophistication.

“At least I did not sneak into someone’s bedroom at four in the morning.”

Virgil’s honey fake smile faltered, before renewing in greater degree. “And Felix has invited me back anytime for another early morning call.”

This time, it was Virgil on the receiving end of unimpressed stares.

The exchange earned the attention of several nearby salescats and salespeople, who had paused mid-task to watch this unfiltered drama unfold. Their eyes shone with the light of gossip, and a few exchanged raised eyebrows, clearly intrigued by the dynamic between this Regal One and his human pets.

Not that any of the men noticed, too busy staring each other down. 

When Felix finally emerged from the dressing room, dressed in one of the outfits Albrecht had chosen—an ivory silk blazer paired with tailored black trousers—the conversation came to an abrupt halt.

“You look divine,” Albrecht declared with genuine praise, looking pleased.

Sorath smirked, snapping a picture with his phone “Looking sharp, boss.”

Felix frowned, “Oh, and where were you guys when I needed your help earlier?”

“Oh, would you look at that bolo tie! It has my name written on it!” Virgil dashed off.

Sorath looked up at the ceiling and Thel also looked as exasperated as Felix felt. The only one happy was Albrecht. 

As they made their way to the register, Felix couldn’t shake the feeling of being part of a very strange spectacle. The salespeople and cats’ curious glances followed them, and he caught snippets of whispered conversations.

“Did you see how possessive they were?”
“Definitely the jealous sort.”
“Bold, aren’t they?”

Felix walked a little faster. It figures they would be the spectacle wherever they go. And just because Felix wanted to leave those stares as quickly as possible, he didn’t fight nearly as hard with Albrecht over who got to pay for the purchases. (Not that he would’ve won, anyway.)

But this only prompted another round of whisperings and stares. And was that disapproval he saw?

“Ready to go?” Sorath asked as they exited the boutique, the golden afternoon light casting long shadows on the sidewalk.

“More than ready,” Felix replied, clutching the bags Albrecht had insisted on carrying for him.

*

As the group exited the boutique, the bustling energy of the downtown district enveloped them. Felix, still flushed from Albrecht’s antics and the prying eyes of the salespeople/cats, was ready for a breather. The group had been loud, lively, and chaotic—but now, somehow, he found himself walking alone with Thel.

“Wait… where is everyone?” Felix asked, glancing around.

Thel adjusted the cuffs of his crisp white shirt with a nonchalant air. “Fitzgerald mentioned crepes. St. Lilith and Goodwine seemed equally distracted by a shop selling something called bubble tea across the street. I wouldn’t be surprised if they’ve wandered off entirely.”

“…” Felix wisely changed the subject. “I’ve been meaning to ask, why do you guys refer to each other using your last names? Isn’t it a bit too formal? Besides, I feel like ‘St. Lilith’ is more of a mouthful than ‘Virgil’.”

Thel’s dark eyes shifted briefly to Felix before looking ahead again. “Not particularly.”

“…”

Well. This one was a conversation ender. Felix never thought he might actually miss the others’ chatter and antics.

Likely picking up on the awkwardness, Thel gestured to the street ahead. “Shall we keep walking? I imagine they’ll find their way back eventually.”

You c an fi nd t he la te st cha pte rs at ( th e bl mu se . c o m )

With a nod, Felix fell into step beside Thel, confused but grateful for the man’s offer. The next second, Felix wanted to slap himself at actually being grateful over the tiny morsel of consideration the other threw at him.

This was called Stockholm syndrome, wasn’t it?! Wasn’t it?!

AN: I was actually torn over keeping cat transformations like magical girl transformations where their clothes miraculously shift with them or put a magitech spin to the clothes they wear. But then I thought how the latter would provide a lot of opportunities for comic relief if Felix is ever caught having to transform in regular clothes and not this Shifterwear™ 😆

Felix’s morning began with something tickling his nose.

In the haze of half-consciousness, he twitched his head to the side, trying to escape the sensation. It persisted—soft, feathery, and maddening. With a grumble, he swatted lazily at his face.

A quiet chuckle sounded nearby.

You c an fi nd t he la te st cha pte rs at ( th e bl mu se . c o m )

Felix’s eyes snapped open to find Virgil’s face mere inches from his own. He was sitting cross-legged on the carpet, his elbows resting on the edge of the bed, holding a strand of Felix’s silver-white hair delicately between his fingers. He was using it to brush under Felix’s nose with an almost childlike fascination.

And as if to emphasize that he was dealing with a childish man, Virgil’s hair was a messy nest and he actually wore bright teddy bear pajamas. 

“Good morning, sunshine,” Virgil said, his grin wide and unapologetic. “Did you sleep well?”

Felix’s brain stuttered as it processed the scene. A strange man, sitting at face level with him. A strange man, in his bedroom. A strange man, messing with his hair.

His response was immediate and involuntary—a shriek loud enough to rattle the furniture.

Virgil burst into laughter, sitting back on his heels as Felix instinctively scrambled backward, his heart hammering in his chest, and with a soft poof, his ears and tails materialized.

“What the hell are you doing?” Felix demanded, clutching his blanket tightly around himself.

Virgil blinked, a delighted smile replacing the mirthful laughter. “Wow. You’re even cuter than I thought when you’re flustered.”

Before that dubious praise could sink in, he felt a strange sensation against his tail—a light, tentative stroke. His head whipped around to see Virgil holding his tail, his expression one of pure awe as he gave the soft fur an experimental pet.

“It’s so warm and fluffy,” Virgil said reverently, as if Felix’s tail was a miracle of the modern world.

Felix’s face burned crimson, caught somewhere between mortification and… was that pleasure? A small purr rumbled in his chest before he clamped his hands over his mouth, horrified. “Let go of my tail!”

“Don’t be shy,” Virgil teased, giving the fur one last admiring stroke before finally releasing it. “You should show these off more often. They’re adorable.”

Felix’s ears flattened against his head in embarrassment. “I don’t want to show them off!”

“Shame,” Virgil said with a shrug, though the amused glint in his eyes suggested he didn’t regret his actions one bit.

Before Felix could retaliate, the door flew open, and Albrecht burst in like a scene from a melodrama. His silk eye mask had been pushed up onto his forehead, and he clutched the lapels of a hastily donned silk bathrobe that still managed to flutter dramatically as he entered.

“What’s going on? Do you need help, dearest?” Albrecht asked, his tone demanding but still somehow showing concern. His eyes landed on Felix’s disheveled form and then on Virgil, who had now flopped onto the carpet with a grin. 

Albrecht’s expression soured. “Of course, it’s you.”

Virgil gave a lazy wave from the floor. “Morning, Peacock. You’re just in time to witness Felix’s adorable wake-up routine.”

Felix, feeling like he had finally found some support, pointed an accusatory finger at Virgil. “He was watching me sleep! And—and—he touched my tail!”

Albrecht’s brows shot up, and his lips curled into a sneer of disdain. “Even for you, that’s grotesquely uncouth. Do you not understand the concept of boundaries?”

However, undermining his words was the way he stepped further into the room, his eyes zeroing in on Felix’s ears with what could only be described as blatant admiration. He murmured as if speaking to himself, “Soft, pristine fur, perfect proportions… Exquisite.”

“Pot~ kettle~” Virgil sang, smirking knowingly.

Felix buried his face in his hands, groaning. He decided to ignore Albrecht and addressed the main problem here. “Why were you even in my room?”

Virgil, looking entirely too pleased with himself, propped his chin on his hand. “I couldn’t sleep, so I came to hang out with you. Got here around four. You’re a surprisingly peaceful sleeper for someone so high-strung.”

Felix stared at him, flabbergasted. “You were in here for hours?”

Virgil nodded, completely unrepentant.

Albrecht scoffed, adjusting the sash of his robe. “And people call me high-maintenance.” He turned to Felix with a look of genteel indignation. “My dear, might I suggest some house rules for this one?”

“…” Felix seriously contemplated the suggestion. That was how far out of his mind he was.

“But, if that’s all, I’ll return to my morning routine. I do have a self-care regimen to maintain.” Seeing that nothing was amiss with his master other than an annoying fellow pet, Albrecht turned on his heel and swept out of the room, the image of unflappable elegance.

As the door closed behind Albrecht, Felix turned back to Virgil, who was still lounging on the carpet like he was the cat overlord here.

“You watched me sleep,” Felix repeated, his tone flat. Clearly not willing to let Virgil off the hook yet.

Virgil shrugged again, a carefree gesture that did nothing to calm Felix’s temper. “Yup. You looked peaceful. It was oddly therapeutic.”

Felix glared, ears twitching in irritation. “That’s not normal.”

“Normal’s boring,” Virgil said cheerfully, leaning back on his hands.

Felix facepalmed. “Virgil, seriously. If you can’t sleep, you need to tell me. Sneaking into my room and scaring the shit out of me is not the solution.”

Virgil’s watched him, and for a fleeting moment, there was a hint of something more vulnerable in his expression. “It’s not a big deal. I’ve had insomnia for years. I’m used to it.”

Felix hesitated, his irritation warring with a growing sense of sympathy. He wasn’t entirely sure how to handle this. Virgil’s flippant attitude made it easy to dismiss his problems, but Felix couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more to it than he was letting on.

“Virgil,” Felix said finally, his voice firm, and Virgil blinked in surprise at the sudden shift in tone. “If it happens again, tell me. Don’t sneak around, don’t do… whatever else you did before to cope. Just wake me up, okay?”

Virgil tilted his head, studying Felix curiously. “You’d let me wake you up in the middle of the night? Just like that?”

“Yes,” Felix said without hesitation. “I’d rather lose a little sleep than find out you’ve been… I don’t know, doing something weird or self-destructive.”

For a moment, Virgil looked genuinely taken aback. Then his usual grin returned, softer this time. “You’re a strange one, Felix. But… thanks.”

Felix nodded, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly. “Just don’t make it a habit, okay? I still need sleep too.”

“No promises,” Virgil said with a wink, though there was a warmth in his tone that made Felix think he’d actually take the offer seriously.

As Virgil finally left the room, whistling his usual jaunty tune, Felix flopped back onto the bed with a sigh. His tail twitched involuntarily, still warm from another hand not his own petting it.

This wasn’t how he’d imagined starting his day as a Regal One with a full household of human pets.

But despite his complaints, he couldn’t deny the faint sense of satisfaction that lingered. It was exhausting, yes, but for the first time in a long time, Felix felt like he was starting to understand what it meant to be responsible for someone else—and maybe, just maybe, he was beginning to care for them in ways he hadn’t expected.

*

In the attached bathroom, Felix splashed cold water on his face. He looked into the mirror, catching sight of his fluffy white ears and swishing tail. He glared, concentrating until they disappeared with a soft shimmer. At least he was getting increasingly good at controlling his ears and tail.

Stepping back into his bedroom, Felix took a moment to gather himself. His apartment in the sleek and modern Sphinx Tower was apparently arranged by the Pet Bureau. It had five bedrooms, each with an attached bathroom, and his human pets had moved in yesterday after the choosing ceremony.

The day before had gone surprisingly well after the formalities. They’d shared a pleasant lunch, and the group had even managed to move in without much fuss. Felix had gone to bed optimistic about their future together. And he still was, Virgil’s surprise attack notwithstanding.

Too bad for Felix, his hopes for a peaceful morning were instantly dashed when he stepped into the kitchen.

The rich, smoky aroma of cooking salmon hit his nose. For a moment, it was almost comforting—until he saw the state of the kitchen. Sorath was at the stove, wearing loose sweat pants and a tank top, wielding a fork as he flipped a piece of fish in a pan. The counter was a battlefield of breadcrumbs, open jars, and stray slices of lemon.

“Sorath,” Felix started, his voice taking on an ominous edge, “what are you doing?”

“Making breakfast,” Sorath said nonchalantly, glancing over his shoulder. He grinned. “Morning, boss. You hungry?”

“That’s not the point,” Felix replied, trying to keep his tone calm. “Why are you using a fork on a non-stick pan? And did you have to—” He gestured at the disaster zone that used to be his kitchen.

“Relax,” Sorath said, waving the fork dismissively. “I’ll clean it up later. Here, try this.” He plated a slice of toast topped with smoked salmon, cream cheese, and a sprinkle of herbs, sliding it across the counter to Felix.

Felix hesitated but took a bite. The flavors were perfectly balanced, the salmon tender and smoky. He blinked in surprise. “This is… actually good.”

“Of course it is,” Sorath said with a smirk. “I don’t half-ass things, even if I use a fork instead of a spatula.”

Before Felix could respond, Albrecht swept into the room, still dressed in that opulent silk robe, hair perfect and skin glowing—clearly his primping had been completed as well. He immediately made for the artisan coffee maker—that had not been there last time Felix checked.

“Good morning, everyone,” Albrecht announced importantly. He took one look at the kitchen and grimaced. “Felix, dearest, I meant to mention this yesterday, this kitchen is positively primitive. Have you considered upgrading? I know a designer who could transform this space into something worthy of your status.”

Felix pinched the bridge of his nose. “Good morning, Albrecht. And no, I haven’t considered that.”

“You should,” Albrecht said, taking a sip of his coffee. “As your pet, it’s my duty to ensure you’re surrounded by beauty and sophistication.”

“Thanks, but let’s focus on breakfast for now.”

Throughout this all, Thel sat at the dining table ignoring everything but the tablet in his hand. Already dressed impeccably in a three-piece suit despite the early hour, Thel sat with perfect posture, reading something on his tablet. He finally deigned to look up briefly when Felix approached.

“Good morning,” he said in a clipped tone. “I’ve prepared a schedule for the day.”

Felix rolled his eyes, taking a detour over. The itinerary was meticulously detailed, with color-coded sections for work, errands, and even “team-building activities.”

“Thel, this is… a lot,” Felix said, scanning the document.

“Structure is essential,” Thel replied, his tone cool. “Without it, chaos ensues. Case in point.” He gestured vaguely toward the kitchen, where Sorath was now tossing breadcrumbs at Virgil, who had just sauntered in.

Virgil, still in his teddy bear pajamas, looked entirely unfazed. He grabbed a piece of toast from Felix’s plate, plopped onto a nearby chair, and began scrolling through his phone. As if the morning episode earlier hadn’t happened at all.

“Virgil,” Felix said, his patience wearing thin, “that was my breakfast.”

“You should eat faster,” Virgil replied with a grin, not looking up.

Felix took a deep breath, reminding himself that throttling one’s pets was frowned upon, no matter how tempting.

Determined to restore order, Felix called everyone to the dining table. “All right, we need to talk about today’s plans.”

Sorath leaned against the counter, nibbling on a piece of salmon. “I vote for exploring the city. Let’s see what kind of trouble we can get into.”

Felix frowned. “We’re not getting into trouble.”

“Then what’s the point?” Sorath said with a smirk.

Albrecht, already scrolling through his phone for luxury stores, chimed in. “I suggest a shopping trip. Our public appearances must reflect our status, and I, for one, refuse to be seen in anything less than perfection.”

Thel cleared his throat. “We should visit the Combat Division headquarters. As Felix’s future workplace, it’s essential for him to familiarize himself with the environment and expectations.”

Virgil finally looked up from his phone, grinning. “I’m good with whatever, as long as it’s not boring.”

The resulting argument was exactly what Felix had feared. Sorath and Virgil wanted adventure, Albrecht wanted refinement, and Thel insisted on practicality. That left Felix stuck with the role of mediator.

You c an fi nd t he la te st cha pte rs at ( th e bl mu se . c o m )

In the end, Felix threw up his hands. “Fine. We’ll figure it out as we go. Just… try not to drive me insane.”

“Too late,” Virgil said cheerfully.

AN: You know how cats sometimes appear and just watch you while you sleep? Virgil is only doing what a pet does to their owner 😌

Their little nook was buzzing with tension as Sorath entered with Felix stomping in angrily behind him. The other three were still seated where Felix had left them earlier, each exuding their distinct aura. 

Virgil was lounging sideways on his armchair, legs thrown over one armrest and head hanging upside down over the other as he hummed some unidentifiable tune. Albrecht sat hunched over, his hands folded on his lion head walking stick and his chin placed on top, his bright, blonde head catching the light like a beacon. Thel was elegantly leaning back in his armchair near the window, one leg crossed over the other and fingers pressed in front of his face, gaze distant as if observing the world from some lofty, kingly throne.

You c an fi nd t he la te st cha pte rs at ( th e bl mu se . c o m )

All eyes turned to Sorath as he entered, but if the attention fazed him, he didn’t show it. He strolled to the only empty chair beside the main one at the center and perched on the armrest, one leather clad arm thrown casually over the back with an air of lazy defiance.

“Well,” Thel began, his voice edged with contempt. “The prodigal pet arrives at last. I was beginning to think you’d decided to forgo this momentous occasion altogether.”

Sorath smirked. “Traffic,” he said simply, tapping his helmet for emphasis.

Virgil snorted with laughter, turning his head slightly to look over, still upside down. “Traffic? Really? That’s the best excuse you could come up with?”

“Best or not, it’s the truth,” Sorath replied, long legs accentuated by tight dark denims stretching out in an indolent, careless manner that practically screamed “delinquent”.

Albrecht huffed, clearly disdainful. “I’d expect nothing less from someone who arrives late and on a motorcycle. So gauche.”

Virgil, never one to let an opportunity for a jibe to pass, turned toward Albrecht. “I think it’s cool. And besides, you arrived in a flying whale. If anyone’s overcompensating, it’s you.”

Albrecht’s eyes narrowed. “Overcompensating? For what, exactly?”

Virgil flashed a cheeky grin, opening his mouth to respond, but Felix rapped a knuckle on the table, silencing the smart comebacks before they could escalate.

“That’s enough,” Felix said, his face expressionless. His earlier headache was threatening to make a comeback.

Thel, who had remained silent until now other than that first sneering remark to make his displeasure known, finally spoke. “It’s a mystery to me why you chose these troublemakers and layabouts, Felix.” 

His voice was cool, but his words carried a sharp edge. “I suppose we’ll see how well you manage to keep them in line moving forward.” Clearly, he did not lump himself in that category. So much for self-awareness.

Felix met Thel’s gaze, feeling the weight of the challenge in his words and—fuck it. He was the master here, not the pet and he refused to be cowed. 

“Well, I suppose you all will find out just how I plan to manage my pets,” he snapped peevishly. “And just so you know, even if I expect cooperation, not chaos, I can just as well deal with the latter if necessary.”

Silence fell.

Virgil’s whiskey eyes widened in delight. Albrecht also stared at him with lips slightly parted as if Felix was something wondrous. Even Thel’s piercing dark eyes dilated in surprise or maybe something else. 

The silence was broken by Sorath’s throaty chuckle, earning a sharp glare from Thel who managed to quickly compose himself.

“Well said, boss,” Sorath said, raising an imaginary glass in a mock toast. “Though I have to admit, a little chaos keeps things interesting.”

Virgil perked up at that. “Finally, someone who gets it!”

Felix sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Let’s try to keep the chaos to a minimum for now, okay?”

Albrecht leaned forward, his expression eager. “Felix, my dear, don’t let these hooligans wear you down. You have me, after all. A loyal, cultured, and utterly devoted pet at your service.”

Virgil rolled his eyes so hard Felix was afraid they might stick. “You’re laying it on a bit thick, don’t you think?”

Albrecht sniffed. “It’s called being a proper pet. Something you might not understand, considering your penchant for rooftop theatrics.”

“Hey, that was a cleverly timed compatibility test,” Virgil shot back, his tone offended at first before shifting into one of rapture as he laid the back of a hand on his forehead. “And Felix was so swoon worthy, descending like the savior from my dreams.”

Felix coughed, lips twitching and not knowing how to respond to that. So he averted his eyes from Virgil’s exaggerated batting of his own admittedly large almond shaped eyes.

Thel raised a brow. “If by ‘swoon worthy,’ you mean recklessly using his divine form in a public area, then yes. A ‘handsome’ display of restraint indeed.”

“Then what would you have Felix do in such a situation? Simply let him fall and turn into a bloody smear on the ground?” Sorath asked in idle interest, an intrigued smile playing on his lips.

Thel cast him and then Virgil an indifferent look that still managed to convey a hint of malice. Then he quirked his lips in the first smile of the day that was actually—shockingly—polite and charming. But the words uttered from cupid bow lips was decidedly less pleasant. “In fact, yes. I hardly doubt he will be missed.”

Virgil gasped in mock outrage. He then picked up a sugar cube and pelted it at Thel—leaving behind sugary crystals on his dark red tie—in a childish move that caught everyone off guard. Felix definitely hadn’t expected it.

But the resulting murderous red gleam in Thel’s dark eyes and Virgil’s death defying giggle—that Felix had expected.

Thankfully Sorath interrupted what might have devolved into a brawl with his usual devil-may-care attitude. “Very stunning,” he drawled, his pale blue eyes sweeping over Felix’s form with a particular coyness. “Your form I mean. Most Regal Ones’ divine forms are… let’s just say alien, but Felix, you looked good.”

Albrecht refilled Felix’s teacup, and arched an approving brow at Sorath. “An unexpected boon to be sure. Powerful and beautiful. What more can a pet want in a master?”

Felix sideyed these two men suddenly bonding over singing his praises of all things. But so long as they didn’t try to be handsy or steal a kiss again, Felix felt like he could take anything thrown at him now. “Thank you, Sorath, Albrecht,” he said, keeping his voice neutral. And judging by Sorath’s pout, he succeeded.

Felix couldn’t help smiling triumphantly. Did they think he wouldn’t learn a thing or two after so long?

Sorath stared then smirked, likely thinking of other ways to unbalance his master.

The “bonding” continued, with each of the four humans subtly—or not so subtly—needling Felix (and each other) as a way of eliciting his attention in their own manner. Virgil’s annoying cheer, Albrecht’s dramatic praise, Thel’s cold sneers, and Sorath’s flirtatious teasing created a chaotic symphony that somehow seemed to blend into a dynamic that was unique to their group.

Still, amidst the weirdly harmonic chaos, Felix noticed that none seemed to be unhappy with this arrangement. Yes, even Thel and his arrogance and antagonistic ways. Despite their differences, all four of them seemed to share a common thread: their firmness in their choice of him. It was messy, complicated, and wrapped up in their individual quirks, but it was there.

A sharp knock at the folding screens brought their antics to a halt.

“Come in,” Felix called, looking forward to the next step now that the initial meeting wasn’t too much of a disaster.

The door opened to reveal a young official dressed in the navy blue uniform of the Pet Bureau. His silver insignia marked him as a mid-rank Regal One, and his stern expression suggested he was all business.

“Good day,” the official began, stepping inside. “I am here to guide you through the formalization of your bonds.”

The group fell silent, the weight of the moment settling over them.

The official produced a stack of ceremonial certificates, the thick ivory paper shimmering faintly with embossed gold. “Each human will pledge their devotion to you, Mr. Bloodstone, as their chosen owner and master. In turn, you will affirm your responsibility to protect and cherish them. The process will be sealed with both a written contract and a Divine Sigil.”

He laid out the certificates, revealing a series of intricate symbols and spaces for signatures. “Shall we begin?”

Virgil was the first to step forward, his usual cheer tempered by a surprising solemnity. “I, Virgil St. Lilith, devote my being to Felix Bloodstone. I swear to adore and support him to the best of my abilities.”

Felix, feeling like he was speaking wedding vows, nonetheless repeated the words he’d been instructed to say. “I, Felix Bloodstone, accept this devotion and vow to protect and cherish Virgil St. Lilith.”

Virgil signed the certificate with a flourish, and Felix followed suit, the tip of a sharp nail etching his name in golden ink.

The official then gestured for Felix to apply the Divine Sigil. “Place the pad of your writing finger on his chosen spot,” he instructed.

Virgil tilted his head to expose the left side of his neck, right above the carotid artery. “Here,” he said, his tone light but his eyes serious.

Felix hesitated for a moment at the other’s show of vulnerability before pressing his finger to the indicated spot. A warmth spread from his fingertip, and a glowing paw print in hues of reds and pinks outlined in silvery mercury appeared on Virgil’s skin. To Felix, it kind of resembled a plum blossom rather than a cat’s paw print.

Virgil winced slightly, then grinned. “That tickled. And burned. Weird combo.”

The process was repeated with Albrecht, who chose the area directly over his heart.

“Only fitting,” Albrecht insisted with a dramatic hand over his chest. “My devotion comes from the heart, after all.”

Felix rolled his eyes but complied. Although, he did feel distinctly awkward as he waited for Albrecht while he undid his cravat and the top buttons of his shirt to bare a pale, lean chest. 

Thel was next, extending his left wrist with precise efficiency. “Here, where the lifeline ends” he said simply, his tone curt but his words strangely romantic.

Under that intense gaze, Felix pressed his finger to the spot, and the plum blossom-like paw sigil appeared, emitting a faint, oppressive aura just like the others. Thel inclined his head, his expression unreadable but for the tightening of his eyes at the peculiar sensation.

Finally, it was Sorath’s turn.

He approached with an easy swagger, lifting the hem of his leather jacket to reveal his left pelvic area. “How about here?” he asked, thickly curled lashes lowered at half-mast and a smirk curling his lips.

“…” Felix glanced subtly at the official standing on the side. For some reason, he didn’t think the choices of positions by his pets were part of the norm. Was it just him or were all of them a bit too ambiguous? The other three could’ve at least been explained away but clearly Sorath didn’t know the meaning of subtle.

“Fine,” he muttered, pressing his finger to the indicated spot.

The sigil flared to life, and Sorath hissed softly through his teeth. “Feels… kind of good actually.”

Felix ignored him.

As the Divine Sigils were completed, the official stepped back, his expression one of barely concealed awe. “Remarkable,” he said, his voice hushed.

“What is?” Felix asked, frowning.

“The strength of your Divine Sigils,” the official explained. “The presence emanating from them is overwhelming—far beyond what I’ve seen from most Regal Ones.”

As if to emphasize his point, the official’s form shimmered, and he suddenly transformed into a small orange tabby cat.

Felix blinked. “Uh, are you okay?”

The orange tabby nodded, his voice now a soft meow. “Apologies. Your sigils are… quite potent. I couldn’t maintain my humanoid form in their presence.”

Virgil, Albrecht, Thel, and Sorath exchanged glances, their expressions ranging from impressed to intrigued. Clearly, the marker and bearer of the sigils did not feel the impact.

Felix frowned further. “Will this always be the case?” He didn’t want to cause a public disturbance with Regal Ones transforming into their cat forms left and right.

“No need to worry. It will subside in an hour and will only flare in response to threats, Corrupted or otherwise.” The orange tabby replied calmly.

You c an fi nd t he la te st cha pte rs at ( th e bl mu se . c o m )

The ceremony concluded with the official—still in cat form—bowing and departing, leaving Felix alone with his new, officially bonded pets.

As the orange tabby padded away, Felix turned to face the group.

“Okay,” he said, “Anyone else up for some lunch?”

AN: They’re married your honor! Anyone looking forward to slice of life now that they will be living under the same roof? 😏

The Ceremony Hall had tall ceilings and smooth, ivory-hued floors, with large potted plants and intricately painted solid wood folding screens for privacy. Velvet armchairs were placed in each private sitting area creating a cozy space for meetings between pet and owner. Felix passed by several that were occupied by other Regal Ones meeting their new human pets for the first time. Some were stiff and formal, others warm and affectionate. Felix couldn’t help making the matchmaking connection again. This place also did not help matters with its cozy, date-like ambiance and illusion of privacy.

You c an fi nd t he la te st cha pte rs at ( th e bl mu se . c o m )

A Pet Bureau official waved them toward their own sectioned corner, and Felix immediately tensed in apprehension as he spotted a figure already sitting in one of the armchairs around a round mahogany table, elegantly sipping tea from a dainty porcelain teacup. A jar of milk, a sugar canister, thick folded napkins and a teapot with steam wafting from it was already set out on the table.

Felix recognized him immediately from the profile. He was tall—it was obvious even while sitting—his posture straight and commanding, one leg crossed over the other and a long-fingered, manicured hand resting lightly on the armrest. His charcoal-gray three-piece suit fit him perfectly, the deep wine-red tie adding a touch of color to his otherwise muted attire. The long black peacoat draped over the back of his chair only added to his imposing presence.

Thel looked up, dark, carnelian eyes locking onto Felix with an assessing gaze that felt like a blade scraping against his skin. Those high cheekbones and hollowed cheeks framed by coiffed raven curls neatly parted to the side only added to the handsome severity of his countenance.

“You’re late,” Thel said, his voice low and clipped.

Virgil, who had been in the middle of a joke, stopped short, blinking. “Eh? We’re—”

“Seven minutes and thirty-six seconds past the scheduled time,” Thel interrupted, his tone flat. “Punctuality is a sign of respect, and this is hardly an auspicious start to our arrangement.”

Albrecht plopped down on a cognac leather armchair, casually helping himself to the tea on the table. “Relax, boyo. We were held up by unforeseen circumstances. If anything, you should commend our dearest for his heroics rather than nitpicking trivialities.”

Thel pressed his thin but shapely lips into a tight line of displeasure. “Do not address me that way. My name is Thel Malvolio Rosary.” All the while, his gaze did not leave Felix. “I hope you understand the importance of discipline, Felix—may I call you Felix?—I would expect nothing less from my owner.”

Felix, feeling conspicuously trapped under that intense gaze, managed a tight smile. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

He moved to take his seat at the head of the table, Virgil flopping into the chair next to his like a ragdoll, slouching dramatically.

Awkward silence followed.

There was one chair still noticeably empty and Felix could see just how unimpressed Thel became the more the seconds ticked by. It was not helped with Virgil attempting to build what looked like an igloo with the sugar cubes and Albrecht muttering about the lack of wine.

Felix was a bit suspicious that the armchair he was sitting on was defective. Despite its cushy appearance, he felt like he was actually sitting on pins and needles instead.

After a few more torturous minutes that passed in the same vein but with an increasingly moody Thel, a bored Virgil and a complaining Albrecht, Felix leaped to his feet.

“Sorry, I’ll be right back!”

Turning on his heel, he quickly made a tactical retreat.

*

The moment Felix stepped past the folding screen, the quiet hum of pleasant conversation from the rest of the hall hit him like a balm. The interactions varied: some pets appeared shy, others eager, and a few were already laughing with their new owners. All of it decidedly going much better than his own. 

He stood nearly hidden next to a large potted shrub with tiny white flowers, letting his head fall back against the wall as he inhaled deeply. Felix never thought of himself as being socially awkward, but the experiences of the last few minutes were beginning to make him doubt.

The next second, he quickly shook his head. Clearly, he wasn’t the problem here. Exasperating personalities compounded by the fact that they were literal strangers made it hard for any connecting to happen. Funny enough, despite how different these men were they all shared a similar self-centered ego. It was just his luck he would be stuck with three, maybe even four, oversized infants. By the state of things, he wasn’t counting on his original self not screwing him over with the fourth one as well.

Suddenly, his ears, thankfully now human, twitched at a spike in voices and movement. Curious, Felix pushed off the wall and peered around the shrub he was not hiding behind. 

The sound of a commotion heading this way drew his attention. From Felix’s position, it looked like a small moving crowd of humans and Regal Ones.

Striding this way in the center of them was a man. His dark waves of hair fell just to his shoulders, artfully disheveled as if he’d just stepped out of a photo shoot. Pale blue eyes, sharp and bright as that of a Siberian husky’s stood out against an olive complexion. Currently, they were scanning the crowd with lazy indifference, as if idly searching for something. 

In one gloved hand, he casually held a motorcycle helmet, and along with his black leather jacket with a luxurious fox-fur collar and calf-high laced boots, he looked like a stereotypical rebellious biker boy.

Felix couldn’t help but notice how effortlessly the man drew attention. His fellow humans were outright staring, some tittering among themselves with suspicious spots of color on their cheeks. Even a few Regal Ones were watching him with varying degrees of interest.

The man, however, seemed utterly unimpressed by the attention. He wore a faintly amused smirk, the kind that said he was used to this.

Felix furrowed his brow. There was something familiar about him.

The man’s pale blue eyes swept the gathered crowd, and then they landed on Felix. For a brief moment, their gazes locked. Felix felt a strange jolt, though whether it was recognition or alarm, he couldn’t tell.

The man’s smirk widened, and before Felix could process it, he was moving—heading directly toward him.

“Oh no,” Felix muttered under his breath.

The crowd surrounding him parted as if by instinct, their murmurs following him all the way to Felix.

When he reached Felix, the man tilted his head slightly, examining him with a gaze that felt far too knowing.

“So,” the man drawled, his voice raspy with a hint of playfulness. “You must be Felix Bloodstone.”

Felix straightened, subtly stepping away from the shrub next to him. “And you are?”

The man grinned, the kind of grin that could melt hearts or break them, depending on his intent. His eyes flickered briefly between Felix and the potted shrub and if it was even possible, that grin became a fractional wider.

“Sorath,” he said, offering his gloved hand. “Your pet, as of today.”

With his suspicions confirmed, Felix could only reluctantly take the offered hand. Sorath’s grip was firm but not overbearing, his hand warm even through the leather glove.

“You’re late,” Felix blurted. Somehow he could only recall Thel’s condescending remark at that moment.

Sorath’s grin turned into a lazy smirk. “Am I? Must have lost track of the time.”

“Clearly,” Felix glanced at the few lingering humans that threw subtle looks their way, feeling a headache coming on.

Before he could say more, Sorath leaned in slightly, his pale blue eyes sparkling with mischievous charm. “You’re exactly how I imagined you’d be.”

“…What’s that supposed to mean?” Felix asked, suspicious.

Sorath stepped back, hands raised in mock surrender. “Relax, boss. It’s a compliment. You’re not like the others.”

Felix frowned, unsure if he should feel flattered or wary. He wasn’t given much time to ponder over it as Sorath leaned in close again, this time lowering his voice.

“You’re even better looking in person,” Sorath said, his tone conspiratorial, as if sharing a secret.

Felix stiffened, an unexpected flush creeping up his neck. “What—”

Before he could finish, Sorath leaned in further and kissed the corner of Felix’s eye.

The world seemed to freeze for a moment.

Felix’s brain short-circuited. His thoughts scrambled to make sense of what had just happened, but nothing coherent formed.

Sorath stepped back, his grin now downright roguish. “Greeting kiss,” he said simply, as if it were the most normal thing in the world.

Felix blinked, still processing, as Sorath turned on his heel and sauntered toward their corner area.

It wasn’t until that audacious man reached the folding screens that Felix snapped out of his stupor.

“Hey!” Felix called, hurrying after him. “You can’t just—”

Sorath paused at the screen, glancing over his shoulder. “No worries, boss. We can finish where we left off later.”

Felix’s mouth opened and closed, words failing him entirely.

With a wink, Sorath stepped around the screen, leaving Felix standing on the other side, red-faced and seething.

You c an fi nd t he la te st cha pte rs at ( th e bl mu se . c o m )

“Unbelievable,” Felix muttered, rubbing the corner of his eye as if trying to erase the lingering sensation of the kiss.

He took a moment to compose himself before following after.

AN: Updates are now caught up with AO3! Please continue to let me know what you think! I enjoy hearing speculations, ideas, even wishes on what readers might want to see more of!

The rooftop was teeming with activity. Officials from the Pet Bureau and Combat Division strode toward Felix, their crisp uniforms catching the sunlight. Among them was a stern, unsmiling Regal One with intelligent green eyes that seemed to take in everything at once as she quickly surveyed the scene. Virgil’s parents followed closely, their faces flushed with a mix of anger and embarrassment.

Virgil, for his part, didn’t seem remotely perturbed by the attention. Instead, he leaned bonelessly against the railing, hands in the pockets of his trousers, as though he hadn’t just caused a public disturbance and been saved in the most dramatic way possible.

You c an fi nd t he la te st cha pte rs at ( th e bl mu se . c o m )

“Virgil St. Lilith!” The female of the angry couple snapped, her shrill voice cutting through the commotion like a whip. She was a slender woman with striking features, her auburn hair swept into an elegant updo. Her soft brown eyes were practically blazing, flecks of amber being highlighted as they caught the sunlight. It was clear where Virgil got his looks from.

“What on B3-52 were you thinking?!” she continued, her heels clicking against the rooftop as she approached him. “Do you have any idea how much trouble you’ve caused?!”

She raised her hand only to cut off the motion mid-way as if she was about to slap him only to recall at the last minute that they were in public.

Virgil smiled disarmingly, barely batting an eye. “Trouble? Me? Surely you’re exaggerating.”

“Exaggerating?” The man next to her interjected, his furious voice rising an octave and the flush on his face deepening. He was a tall, thin man with silver streaks in his otherwise dark hair, silver spectacles perched on his nose and his tailored suit was immaculate despite the apparent rush to get here. 

He might have looked like a distinguished academician if not for his rather apoplectic state. “Do you think this is a joke, Virgil? People thought you were trying to kill yourself! When will you stop being a shame to the family?!”

Felix’s mouth dropped open in involuntary shock. Was that how parents should be acting towards their suicidal (?) child?

In contrast, Virgil only shrugged, his expression unrepentant and completely unperturbed. “I knew my owner would save me. Call it a test of compatibility.”

His mother looked like she was about to truly hand out corporal punishment in public and to hell with airing the dirty laundry. Luckily, the stern-looking Regal One stepped forward, her hand raised sharply in an authoritative gesture. “Mr. and Mrs. St. Lilith, please calm down. The situation is under control.” 

She turned to Felix, her gaze softening into something less exasperated when not having to deal with hysterical humans. “And you must be Mr. Bloodstone, a new graduate from the Ivory Sanctuary. Your quick thinking and decisive action today were truly remarkable.”

Felix, caught off guard by the sudden praise, cleared his throat awkwardly. “Oh, thanks. I just… did what anyone would’ve done.”

“Nonsense,” the woman said firmly, reaching out and shaking his hand briskly, nearly crushing Felix’s own limp grip. “Your ability to execute a divine transformation so efficiently, especially in an urban environment, is nothing short of exemplary. The Combat Division could do with more young ones as prudent as you.”

“Damn right,” another Combat Division officer chimed in, this one wearing the insignia of the Combat Division clearly emblazoned on his shoulder. He was a tall, grizzled man with a scar running across his jaw and intimidating golden eyes. Those piercing eyes of his assessed Felix with the air of someone sizing up a new recruit. “We’ll be keeping an eye on your progress, kit. A Regal One with your potential is a rare asset.”

Felix felt his stomach twist. He wanted to correct them, to tell them he wasn’t some prodigy but a regular guy from another world who had no idea how he’d managed that transformation. But under the weight of their expectant gazes, all he could manage was a stoic nod. “I’ll… do my best.” He admirably did not show any sign that he was internally screaming shitshitshit on a loop.

Did he mention that he didn’t do well with expectations? Because, uh, the queasiness he had been feeling since yesterday was about to bubble over. It would be a fabulous impression to make if he ended up losing his breakfast of tuna and milk in front of everyone.

“See? My dear is amazing,” Albrecht exclaimed brightly, stepping forward with a dazzling smile. “You should’ve seen it—his divine form was utterly breathtaking—what was that line again? ‘Great but terrible’…?”

“A great and terrible beauty,” Virgil corrected offhandedly as if he couldn’t help himself.

Albrecht waved his hand in an uncaring manner and continued talking as if to convey that the question had been rhetorical. The movement caused the sleeve of his blazer to slip and reveal the diamond face of his gold watch that glinted in the sunlight. “—It’s only natural that someone as exceptional as the Great Me would choose an equally exceptional owner.”

The officers blinked, momentarily taken aback by Albrecht’s unabashed self-praise. The officials from the Pet Bureau also subtly pursed their lips. It seemed the lack of humility was unattractive in prospective pets. 

“Ah, yes, the airship,” one of them said, narrowing his eyes. “That brings us to you, Mr. Fitzgerald. Do you have the proper authorization to operate that craft within city limits?”

Albrecht’s smile faltered for the briefest of moments before he recovered, adjusting his cravat with exaggerated nonchalance. “Authorization? Of course. I’m sure the paperwork is… somewhere.”

The officer’s gaze hardened. “We’ll need to see that documentation immediately. Unauthorized use of an airship in a populated area is a serious violation.”

Virgil snickered behind his hand. “Looks like some very colorful feathers are getting plucked.”

Albrecht steepled his fingers on top of the lion head of his walking stick, his polished demeanor slipping just enough to reveal a hint of irritation.

Felix sighed wearily, stepping forward despite his desire to sink into the floor. He turned to the officials, raising his hands in a placating gesture. “Look, I’ll make sure this doesn’t happen again. As first-time offenders there should be some lenience, right?”

The grizzly officer chuckled, clapping Felix on the shoulder with a force that nearly made him stumble. “You’ve got your hands full with this lot, kit. But I like your spirit. Keep it up.”

As the authorities began wrapping up their reprimands and filing their reports, Virgil’s parents pulled him aside for a more private scolding, none too gently either. 

Felix stood a short distance away, pretending like he wasn’t staring and eavesdropping.

“The St. Lilith’s… quite the character aren’t they?” Albrecht said, sidling up beside him.

Felix gave him a sidelong glance. “That’s one way to put it.”

“You’ll get used to it,” Albrecht said with a disdainful curl to his lips. “After all, you”ll find that there are WASPs everywhere outside of your ivory towers.”

Felix raised an eyebrow. He likely knew what the “ivory towers” referred to but—

“What are WASPs?” 

Albrecht couldn’t possibly be referring to a certain Earth slang acronym, could he?

As expected, Albrecht explained helpfully, “Well-groomed And Show-Purrfect. The most dominant, privileged and influential humans in Mzia society. Characterized by an obsession with appearances.”

Felix wasn’t sure whether to laugh or groan. “I’ll take your word for it.” With parents like those, he could almost forgive Virgil for that weird personality of his. Hard not to mutate growing up in such an environment.

He couldn’t help casting a doubtful gaze at the blonde man standing next to him as well. Compared to Virgil, this one looked more like he belonged under that class umbrella, obvious disdain towards it notwithstanding. 

Before Albrecht could respond, the officials finally wrapped up their discussions and began to disperse, herding them all, along with Virgil’s still-fuming parents, toward the stairwell. 

Felix almost forgot that there was still the choosing ceremony to undergo with all the chaos happening.

The walk to the Ceremony Hall, the largest room—basically spanning an entire floor—in the Pet Bureau building, felt like a reprieve, though Felix wasn’t sure how long it would last. 

Virgil, showing no signs of chagrin for his behavior despite the dressing-down he must have received from his parents, hummed an off-key tune as he skipped along the marble-tiled corridor. And generally making a nuisance of himself with the Pet Bureau officials escorting them. 

Albrecht, on the other hand, strode in the manner of someone who was much larger around the waist and taking up more space than he should, his polished crocodile-skin shoes clicking in perfect rhythm. Occasionally, he would toss out a smug comment over anything from the interior decor to the real estate. The only thing he was missing was an illegally imported cigar.

You c an fi nd t he la te st cha pte rs at ( th e bl mu se . c o m )

As for Felix, he trailed a few steps behind, stoically refusing to make eye contact after receiving more raised eyebrows and pitying looks than he thought was fair. 

Admittedly, at this point, he had more things to worry about than being embarrassed.

AN: Catching up with the chapter progress on AO3! Please continue to let me know what you think! I enjoy hearing speculations, ideas, even wishes on what readers might want to see more of!