Chapter 169: Pizza Party, Pouts, And Pajamas

Mochi disappeared through the shop’s back door and returned twenty minutes later, arms laden with grease-stained pizza boxes that bore suspicious scorch marks along their edges.

"Victory feast!" he announced, sweeping broken glass off the counter with his sleeve.

"The delivery guy got a little aggressive about payment, but nothing a small fireball couldn’t resolve."

"You set the delivery driver on fire?" Ginsei asked, appalled.

"Just his attitude," Mochi replied cheerfully, stacking boxes across the ruined counter. "Now everyone grab a slice and honor the cleansing ritual with pepperoni!"

Kane claimed an entire supreme pizza, devouring slices with the desperate hunger of someone who’d spent hours being tortured in a laboratory. His nine tails swished contentedly as he ate.

Ginsei picked methodically at his slice, removing every piece of pepperoni and arranging them in a neat pile.

"You know that defeats the entire purpose of ordering pepperoni pizza," Mochi observed, deliberately loading pineapple onto his slice—and Kane’s when Kane wasn’t looking.

"Pineapple is a crime against nature," Ginsei declared.

"Says the serpent who eats his pizza with a fork."

Cyrus remained silent, focused on his single slice, but Kane noticed the dragon quietly refilling his plate whenever Kane reached for another piece.

The subtle care made something warm bloom in Kane’s chest.

Around them, Ginsei’s ward sigils pulsed with gentle blue light, casting ethereal patterns across pizza boxes and scattered glass.

The absurd normalcy of their makeshift feast contrasted sharply with the glowing magical barriers and lingering smoke—four unlikely allies sharing greasy pizza while the dragon egg sat safely between salt circles and broken collectibles.

"Best pizza party ever," Kane mumbled through a mouthful of cheese.

Kane’s laughter bubbled through the shop as Mochi recounted his dramatic encounter with the pizza delivery driver, complete with theatrical gestures and sound effects.

But mid-chuckle, Kane’s eyes grew heavy, his head bobbing forward as exhaustion finally claimed him.

A half-eaten slice slipped from his fingers.

"Look at that, fox boy’s rebooting," Mochi teased, grinning as Kane’s chin dropped toward his chest.

Cyrus moved fluidly, scooping Kane up before he could topple face-first into the pizza box.

Kane’s nine tails draped over Cyrus’s arms like silver silk, and even unconscious, his fingers remained wrapped protectively around the dragon egg.

"I’m bringing him home," Cyrus said quietly, adjusting his hold as Kane’s head rested against his shoulder.

"Aww, how romantic," Mochi cooed, batting his eyelashes. "Prince Charming carries his sleeping beauty into the sunset."

"Shut up, cat."

But Ginsei’s expression remained serious, ice-blue eyes fixed on the obsidian egg cradled against Kane’s chest.

"You can’t shield him from what this means forever," Ginsei said, his voice cutting through Mochi’s giggles.

Cyrus’s jaw tightened, but he said nothing, carrying Kane into the night.

Kane’s consciousness surfaced slowly, pulled from dreamless depths by the familiar weight of silk against his skin.

His eyes cracked open to find himself wrapped in expensive pajamas.

Confusion flickered through his mind. He remembered collapsing at Mochi’s shop, pizza grease on his fingers and exhaustion dragging him under.

Now he was clean, changed, and tucked beneath Cyrus’s Egyptian cotton sheets.

His phone glowed on the nightstand: 3:47 AM. Dawn was still hours away.

Panic shot through him as he remembered the egg. Kane bolted upright, scanning the room desperately until his gaze landed on an ornate silver stand near the bed.

The obsidian egg rested within protective ward circles, their soft blue glow pulsing in rhythm with Kane’s heartbeat.

"You were restless without it."

Kane’s head snapped toward the voice. Cyrus sat in the leather armchair beside the window, suit jacket draped over the chair’s arm, white dress shirt wrinkled, and sleeves rolled to his elbows.

Dark circles shadowed his eyes, and his usually perfect posture sagged with bone-deep exhaustion.

"You’ve been watching me sleep?"

"Someone had to make sure the egg didn’t react to your nightmares." Cyrus’s voice carried no reproach, only quiet concern.

"Your spirit energy was fluctuating."

Kane pushed himself upright, nine silver tails spreading across the silk duvet like spilled moonlight.

"You should have woken me if something was wrong."

"Nothing was wrong." Cyrus’s gaze softened. "You were finally peaceful."

Kane looked at Cyrus for a moment before his lips curved into a teasing smile.

"Well, I didn’t feel quite at peace because a certain dragon wasn’t sleeping beside me."

He crossed his arms and jutted out his lower lip in an exaggerated pout, nine tails flicking with mock indignation.

"Very lonely. Very cold. Absolutely tragic, really."

Cyrus’s exhausted expression softened into something warmer, and he rose from the armchair.

"Is that so?"

"Mm-hmm." Kane’s pout deepened as Cyrus approached the bed. "I had to suffer through terrible dreams of empty beds and—"

Kane’s hand shot out, pressing against Cyrus’s chest before he could slip beneath the sheets.

"Wait."

Cyrus paused, eyebrow arched in question.

"You’re still in your dirty day clothes," Kane said, fingers already working at the top button of Cyrus’s wrinkled dress shirt.

"Underground laboratories, wolf fights, pizza grease—absolutely not allowed in my silk sanctuary."

"Your silk sanctuary?"

"Our silk sanctuary," Kane corrected, continuing his methodical unbuttoning. "But the rules remain the same. No grimy dragons in the bed."

Cyrus watched Kane’s careful fingers, a soft smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

"I see. And who appointed you the bedroom enforcement officer?"

"I’m self-appointed," Kane declared, sliding the shirt off Cyrus’s shoulders. "That’s what BSA really stands for—Bedroom Standards Authority."

Cyrus’s low chuckle rumbled through his chest. "I thought it was the Bureau of Supernatural Affairs."

"Bedroom... Silky... Arrangements?" Kane tried again, his fingers now working at Cyrus’s belt buckle with deliberate slowness. "Bare... Sleeping... Attire?"

"Those are terrible abbreviations."

"I’m making it up as I go." Kane’s hands moved to the waistband of Cyrus’s dress pants, tugging them down.

"The important thing is enforcement."

Cyrus stepped out of the discarded clothing, now wearing only black boxer briefs. His fingers found Kane’s chin, tilting his face up with gentle pressure.

"And what exactly is my mischievous fox up to this time?"

Kane’s amber eyes sparkled with warmth and affection as he looked up at the dragon who’d torn through an underground facility to save him.

"I’m rewarding you for rescuing me."

His hands splayed across Cyrus’s chest, feeling the steady thrum of his heartbeat.

"My hero deserves proper appreciation."

Cyrus’s breath caught as Kane’s fingers traced the edges of his underwear.

"Is that what this is?"

"Among other things."