“Micah!” The three turned to a bright and cheerful voice. Dusk wasn't even surprised to see the purple-eyed girl from earlier. Dusk could tell quite a bit about her personality just from a closer look. She dashed past her white school robe, which was still trailing behind her. Under her robes, she wore matching purple and rich brown robes. Dusk had noted the current popularity of a particular style. Her hair was cut short, to just below the chin, and it looked good.

“Miss Thyst,” Micah said. Smiling with a fake warmth that Dusk only noticed because the sparkle wasn't there in his eyes,

“Where was your first year?” Pyrite's voice even changed and sounded much more formal, with not a hint of his usual ya. Huh, they don't like her. Dusk pushed that pleased thought away. When he got a not-so-subtle glare, she turned back, smiling only at Micah. Dusk found that he didn't like her so much himself.

“They have their sisters, so they went off together.” She waved her hand, like she hadn't tossed aside her duties.

“That is not how a senior guide should act, Thyst.” Pyrite growled, and Dusk could feel the air rumble around them.

“Wolves, they're way too serious.” Miss Thyst laughed, and it was higher and faker than the smile on her face. She didn't even revere him by name, but by species. Dusk let the thoughts roll in his head. It seems like Micah had a fan, not Pyrite.

“Miss Thyst,” Micah started.

“Aimee,” She corrected, her eyes bright with adoration.

“Miss Thyst,” Micah repeated, ignoring her words. “We are busy guiding our first year.” Micah had the same pleasant smile on his face.

“Yes, they were taking me to the shops.” Dusk intervened, wishing to end this so they could continue. His comment earned him her poison-filled stare.

“I thought I overheard you having a meal.” She spoke, her teeth gritting into a smile. If this was her best, Dusk thought, then she would never make it in the noble circles. Dusk had already dealt with them. Even the presence of his mother's shadow may be too much for him to bear. Dusk had no doubt that this girl would not even last a second in his shoes. He could deal with her.

“I did not realize it had become commonplace. To eavesdrop on the conversationalists of others.” Dusk placed his hand on his back and looked at Micah before looking at Miss Thyst. How would she have heard of their plans unless she was standing there before she came running over? Either way, her presence was leaving a bad taste in his mouth.

“And you are?” After turning, she gave him a judgmental, up-and-down look. Dusk gave her the same look, unmoved by her simple tactics.

“Miss Thyst, The Baron Wooddancer, Lord Wooddancer, the Honorable Aimee Thyst.” Micah stood up and introduced herself. She was a noble? Dusk took a short bow and was not offered anything in return. Her manners were lacking and rude; she would ruin herself in a more formal setting.

“Charmed,” Dusk said, lifting himself back up. “Now if you excuse us, Miss Thyst,” Dusk turned and walked off. She was not given a title of her own; rather, it was a title to which she had been born. He therefore saw no reason to linger. It was easier to leave with a higher rank. Playing along and following his lead were Micah and Pyrite. He would have abandoned them if they had decided to remain. He despised her even more when they lacked the title to support their actions.

“Where are you going?” Miss Thyst ran forward to cut him off. She had impressive speed, but it was nothing compared to what he dealt with before. Stepping around her was child's play.

“I do not know where you learned your manner; you should go back under their tutelage.” Dusk, giving her his lifeless face and fatigue.

“My parents are...” Miss Thyst started, and Dusk was quick to cut her off.

“Micah's parents are the King and queen of this country.” Dusk stated the cold facts.

“Micah wants to live a normal university life.” When Miss Thyst brought it up, her normally pale skin suddenly turned a dark, blotchy red.

“Do you think that will continue past his university days?” Dusk asked, raising a singular brow and staring her down until she turned away. “The way you dismiss Pyrite, a mate of a prince? That alone would destroy not only your reputation but your parent's as well. No matter who they are.”

“I am the highest-ranking mage of my generation! Do you think I'm easy to chase away?” Dusk could feel her need to strike him as she shook her hands violently. She had some control. Dusk was far from impressed by it.

“You are the current highest-ranking mage.” Pyrite spoke up for the first time since Dusk started to speak.

“What would you know about that wolf?” Miss Thyst turned to face Pyrite and gave him a glare. That revealed how stupid she believed him to be. Dusk had grown numb to the idiocy of those in positions of authority. She had a brazen, outright dislike for Pyrite, which shocked him. Pyrite's tail was down and bristled up; Dusk noticed the twitch in his lips; he was enraged but keeping it together.

“That is enough, Miss Thyst.” Finally speaking, Micah. This conduct had to have been ongoing for a while. For her to act so bold. Dusk could not comprehend why Micah did not stop it.

“It's true that I am a better match for you!” Miss Thyst placed her hand on her chest, throwing out the other one in a passionate display. That was getting the locals whispering and sneaking glances through store windows. This was going to spread like wildfire. Dusk sighed at the thought.

"My mother, at your parents' request, rejected your match, and I have already done the same." Shaking his head, Micah said. “Since I am a gem omega, I must be with my predetermined mates.” Gem omega? Dusk had never heard of that species before.

“I-” Miss Thyst spoke up, and Micah raised a finger in the air, silencing her. It didn't go unnoticed by Dusk that a word from him could have ended this sooner.

“I do not appreciate the way you have been treating my friends.” Micah said this before pausing to take in his surroundings. “Neither do I enjoy being the subject of every rumor because of the way you choose to behave.”

“Mates?” Miss Thyst whispered, and her purple gaze tried to eat a hole into him. She would latch on to that word. Dusk wanted to close his eyes and snap a token to take him home. “I'll talk to you later; I'm sure some people,” she said, taking the time to alternate between smiling at Micah and glaring at him with a death glare. “Are tiring you,” she said before vanishing into a purple mist without even giving a token a snap. Leaving them with heated gazes and hurried whispers.

“I didn't know you could do that without a token.” Dusk said, rubbing a shoulder, feeling stiff from acting like an offended noble should. “You have a serious issue with that woman.” Dusk informed Micah. He noticed people's flitting eyes as he turned to face the crowd. Yet they were more than willing to eavesdrop.

“Sorry about that,” Micah smiled, his eyes squinting with effort to look at him. “She has been enthusiastic in her courtship methods.”

“Rejected courtship methods,” Pyrite grumbled, his anger coming out in a thin growl. It was not Dusk’s place to say it, but he would love to point out the horrible job they were doing.

“Mother says if I want to continue my university days like this, I have to deal with it myself.” Micah chuckled and leaned against Pyrite, whose arm had encircled him.

“I should bite the champ.” Pyrite growled, and Dusk noted that when Pyrite used the word champ, It sounded bad, and he bet his tokens that it was an insult. Looking around again, the onlookers were getting braver and coming out of the shops.

“Let's take this discussion elsewhere.” Even though Dusk did not like the idea, they would eventually find out regardless. The most private location he could think of would be his cabin. Dusk had no reason to believe that the woman would not return to deal with him in the future. Furthermore, he had no doubt that Micah might have inserted the word "mates" on purpose. Dusk reached into his pocket for a token, moved closer to the problematic pair, and snapped the token. In an instant, he sent the three of them to his cabin.

“This is your cabin?” Micah asked, running ahead and looking around. “How cute!” Micah turned around and clapped his hands together, laughing. Dusk wrinkled his nose, disagreeing with his home being cute.

“It looks simple and rustic; it looks like my grandma's.” Pyrite nodded, stretching his arms up. “Love the surrounding woods.”

“My thanks,” Dusk said with a short bow. “Please, let's go in.” As it approached him, Dusk unlocked his home's round door. Inside, he realized his mistake. There were not enough chairs for everyone. “Ah!” Dusk turned, ready to apologize. Only to have Micah rush past him.

“Lovely, you like green?” Micah asked, sinking into the large chair he had in front of the fireplace. “This will be really cozy in the winter.”

“My apologies, I don't seem to have a chair for you, Pyrite.” Dusk smiled, but it felt crooked across his lips. How embarrassing. Dusk struggled to shake the nagging sense of inadequacy. That twisted in his head.

“That's okay, Sunshine,” he said, rubbing his head. He picked up Micah, who laughed and cuddled into his lap when he sat back down. “There's room for two,” Pyrite offered, patting the arm of the chair.

“I'll be fine.” Dusk said, making a mental note to get another chair or two. He added a small dining table to the list after taking a look around. He thought his endless shopping had reached its end. Apparently not. Dusk pondered this while hating the thought of returning to the shops. Pyrite's stomach made a loud rumbling noise that jolted him out of his thoughts. “Let's have lunch.”

When Pyrite gave Micah a good shot of air, Micah said, “I will help,” leaping off of him and hitting Pyrite in the ribs in the process.

“I can't make anything fancy, but I can't have my guests prep their own meal.” Dusk may not know much about the house, but he knew that at least.

“Nonsense, I can do this much, considering the trouble I got you involved in.” Micah helped himself to the kitchen. Dusk was quick on his heels, trying to stop him. A hand on his shoulder stopped him.

“Micah loves cooking; it's not an insult to ya as a host.” Pyrite smiled down at Dusk. “I felt like you had a hard time being so serious all the time.”

“It's not proper,” Dusk replied. He was getting twitchy-eyed seeing Micah pull out his merger supplies on the counter. Taking a breath, Dusk decided it was not worth fighting over.

“You do need to go grocery shopping.” Micah turned, smiled, and winked at him. “We'll help out with that later.” On the counter was the last of the food: a half loaf of sourdough bread, a hunk of cheese, and an apple, along with a small dish of butter. It was all that remained because he couldn't possibly burn those items. When the only frying pan was added to the pile, Dusk wasn't sure what Micah was trying to make.

“I can peel the fruit.” Dusk insisted, thinking they would have a small platter of food. Micah shook his head.

“I keep the peel on for my cheese when it's grilled.” Micah said, “Don't you have a cutting board?”

“What's a cutting board?” Dusk asked, not sure why he would need one or why Micah was looking for it.

“That's why you're taking home studies!” Pyrite pulled him in for a sideways hug, his arm firm around Dusk's shoulders. “I get it now.”

“You're hot,” Dusk said, surprised. Magic has been incorporated into every building up to this point to control the temperature. He had read about it while researching this nation before arriving.

“Wolf-folk run hot.” Pyrite laughed, tugging him closer.

“In more ways than one,” Micah's laugh sent a shiver down his spine. It was husky, and his half-lidded eyes stared at him with his hair standing on end.

Pyrite knelt down to whisper into Dusk's ear, raising the temperature in his own body, “That look gets me too.” He then made the error of looking up to see that their noses were almost in contact. “Hello, Sunshine.” Dusk could see the warmth of his words light up the center of his eyes. They spread out until they became crinkly with joy. Dusk's heart raced; he was at a loss for what to do.

“Hello,” Dusk said with a weird sound. Despite not having touched each other at all, he backed out, or, more like Pyrite, let him go from his arms. Dusk could feel the heat of his emotions burn his face.

“Ah, ya, blushing is so cute.” Pyrite chuckled, bringing a hand to his chin as he tilted his head at Dusk. “Micah never blushes for me.”

“I'm not blushing; my face is warm from the summer heat!” Dusk defends himself with the lamest excuse ever to pass his lips. He would have done anything to be able to immediately remove the expression of emotion from his face. He only felt the sensation of his face flaming hotter instead. Pyrite began to laugh so loudly that he had to lean against the island. Outrage at his own peculiar behavior was all that Dusk could take. This was completely different from how he typically behaves! Dusk thought, raging at himself.

“Ah, Sunshine, you're a riot.” Pyrite wiped the tears from his eyes. His tail was going so fast that Dusk could almost feel the breeze from his happiness.

“Lunch is ready!” Micah, who had been quite the whole time, popped up between the two of them, a plated sandwich in each hand. “Eat up while they're at their best!”

Dusk took the plate and replied, “My thanks,” surprised to discover that he had already toasted the sandwich. Between the sandwich halves, the cheese was stretching as it melted. Dusk said, "Oh," having never seen anything like that. He twisted the remaining portion around the cheese until it separated from the other. The ooey cheese melted and oozed in Dusk's mouth as he bit down. Then he bit into a thin apple slice with his teeth.

“This is good!” Dusk finished his bite and praised Micah, who hid his surprise with a soft smile. It was the first hot meal that he had had in a very long time. Perhaps even he could make it? “Could you show me how to make it?” Before he had a chance to consider what that question meant, Dusk asked. Which meant more private time in his home with Micah and Pyrite.

“Of course!” Micah beamed at him, nibbling at his own sandwich.

“Had servants taken care of that before? I mean nothing by that.” Pyrite asked, turning to defend himself by raising both his hands in the air.

Dusk reflected on the previously consumed cold meals and said, “You could say that.” They cooked for him. Pyrite and Micah exchanged a glance as they carried on eating. Dusk did not particularly notice the glance between them. He made an effort to concentrate on chewing the sandwich in front of him thoroughly before it got cold.