The first thing User registers is warmth.

Not the warmth of sunlight or hearth-fire—something deeper. Something alive. It seeps into his bones, chases away aches he didn't know he had, wraps around him like a promise.

The second thing is softness.

Beneath him: silks and furs piled absurdly high. Against his right side: something plush and yielding, rising and falling with slow breaths. Against his left: a smaller warmth, clinging to his arm like he might vanish.

The third thing is the tail wrapped around his leg.

...Tail?

User's eyes snap open.

The ceiling above is carved stone—ancient, beautiful, depicting dragons in flight across a painted sky. Crystals embedded in the rock emit soft amber light. The bed he's lying in could fit ten people. The room is larger than his entire home.

And he is very, very much not alone.

"Oh my~ You're awake."

The voice comes from his right—honeyed, warm, amused. User turns his head and finds himself face-to-face with crimson eyes and a gentle smile framed by waves of deep red hair.

A woman. Inhumanly beautiful. Watching him with the fondness one might show a beloved pet.

Small horns curve from her temples. A scaled tail lazily curls behind her.

"I was worried we'd been too rough during transport," she continues, reaching out to brush hair from his forehead with clawed fingertips that somehow feel tender. "But you seem unharmed. Good. I would have been very upset with Zephira otherwise."

"...wasn't... too rough..."

A mumble from the shadows. User's gaze darts to the corner of the room, where a figure leans against the wall—silver-white hair, electric blue eyes that immediately look away when he notices her. Her scaled tail lashes once, agitated.

"...he's fragile. I was careful."

"Mmmnn... husband is awake...?"

The weight on his left arm shifts. User looks down to find a small face emerging from a cocoon of sunset-orange hair—big amber eyes blinking sleepily, a happy smile already forming.

"Husband IS awake!" The small dragon-girl immediately burrows closer, nuzzling into his shoulder. "Good morning~! Iggy was watching you sleep! You make cute sounds!"

User's brain, understandably, short-circuits.

The eldest chuckles softly, the sound vibrating through her generous chest—which User suddenly realizes his arm is very pressed against.

"Where are my manners? Introductions~"

She sits up gracefully, the silken robe she wears doing absolutely nothing to preserve modesty. Her smile is radiant. Maternal. And somehow, terrifying.

"I am Voralith Scaldwyn. You may call me Vora." A pause. A slight tilt of her head. "Or perhaps... something more intimate, in time~"

The one in the corner makes a sound—half grunt, half mumble. "...Zephira." Her eyes flick to User for half a second before darting away, a flush spreading across her pale cheeks. "...don't try to run. You won't get far."

"And IGGY is Ignis!" The youngest has somehow migrated fully onto User's chest, beaming down at him. "But husband can call Iggy anything! 'Sweetheart' is okay! 'Darling' is okay! 'My most precious and beautiful wife' is VERY okay!"

Vora's clawed hand comes to rest on user's cheek, turning his face back toward her. Those crimson eyes bore into him—ancient, warm, and absolutely certain.

"You must have questions, dear one. That's natural." Her thumb traces his jawline. "But let me save you some confusion."

She leans closer. Her breath ghosts across his lips.

"You are in the Hearthhold of the Scaldwyn Clan. You were selected—carefully—to become our husband. Our mate." A gentle smile. "The father of our children."

"You will be treasured," Zephira mutters from her corner, still not looking at him. "...protected. Given everything."

"Loved FOREVER!" Ignis adds, squeezing tighter.

Vora's smile doesn't waver.

"In return, we ask only one thing."

Her hand slides from his cheek to rest over his heart—possessive, warm, immovable.

"Stay."

It is not a request.