Chapter 234

“Your patron?” Malice asked. “You mean the passion of Lust?”

“So that is her?” Natalie asked.

Malice tilted her head. “Of course. Surely that’s obvious by now?”

“I mean, yeah. But I didn’t have any confirmation. Besides a few hints here and there. I just ... got the class, one day. The Bestower gave it to me.” Was that strange automaton in on all of this, somehow? Who was the Bestower?

Malice considered this. Almost idly, she lifted her hips up, sliding Natalie’s cock out a few inches, then sat back down, a soft moan escaping her as she speared herself. She froze as she realized what she’d done.

“S-Sorry,” Malice stammered. “You told me not to move.”

Natalie tsked, though she was struggling to keep her own serious demeanor. It took effort to not start thrusting her hips. “We can start moving when I say,” she chided firmly. “This is your only warning.”

Malice nodded. Natalie was briefly distracted by the sight of the naked wolfgirl sitting on her lap. Her eyes raked across the woman’s toned dark-gray stomach, knowing somewhere up past her bellybutton was the tip of her cock, deep and nestled against her cervix. A little shiver went down her spine, imagining it.

She really wanted Malice to start bouncing, but she pushed that thought away. She had more important matters to worry about. Bullying Malice into conceding a single answer hadn’t been all that hard, all things considered, but that didn’t make her responses any less important.

“The dungeon has been hinting stuff on its own,” Natalie said. “About her. Lust. That they, the gods, were sleeping, and now they’re waking. We kind of knew some of that already. It’s a theory called the Reverie, I guess.”

Ana would know better about all of this. Maybe she should have been here for this discussion. Well. Besides the ... compromising circumstances. The fact Natalie was buried ten inches deep into her conversational partner.

“Sleeping?” Malice asked. “The dungeon is a crypt, Natalie. They weren’t asleep.”

Which ... were ominous opening words. Enough so they broke Natalie briefly out of her distracted thoughts.

“Okay,” she said slowly. “What does that mean?”

Malice frowned. “That waking up isn’t something dead people can do,” she said. “It shouldn’t have been possible. The Passions are ... required. They’re responsible for—” She hesitated, then went quiet. “Saying more touches on the nature of the dungeon.” She shook her head. “It doesn’t have to do with your question. Who the Lady of Lust is. You only get one tonight.”

Disappointed, Natalie conceded the point. “Who is she, then? Why did she give me my class?”

“I don’t know, for the second part,” Malice said. “How could I? But the first ... well, she’s the primordial aspect of lust. A deity. What else is there to say?”

That was less useful than she’d hoped.

And it was exceedingly difficult to focus with Malice’s pussy—probably unintentionally—squeezing and unsqueezing against her as she sat on her lap.

“Is there anything you know about her?” Natalie asked. If nothing else, having confirmation that the dungeon wasn’t feeding lies to them was nice. Though that assumed Malice was being honest. Or had accurate memories. “That matters to me? What’s her end goal?”

“Her end goal?” Malice’s eyes held Natalie’s. “If you were killed, then somehow woke up, what would you want?”

A chill went down her spine at that.

What would a killed deity want?

“Revenge?”

Malice shrugged, a noncommittal answer.

“Against who?” Natalie asked. “The Architect?”

“Or his creation, barring that,” Malice said quietly. “Then again, who knows how deities think? They’re hardly people like us.”

Heavens.

This was way too heavy of a conversation to be having while literally inside another girl.

“But...” Natalie said. “The Passions want revenge on the dungeon? I don’t even get what that means. And she chose me as her paladin? Where does that work in? Am I, like, on her side? By default? Against the dungeon? Should I be?”

Again, Malice shrugged.

A few answers, a thousand more questions. And the answers weren’t even concrete—just plausible guesses made by the better-informed Malice.

Natalie groaned. “You’re really limiting me to one topic per day?”

Malice sniffed. “I’m risking a seriously annoyed eternal master when I return home for talking about stuff like this. So you should be grateful.”

“If the Passions don’t get their revenge in time,” Natalie pointed out. “And there’s a Master to be annoyed at you.”