Orgasm system: These beastwomen must moan!

Stefan’s POV

Belladonna didn’t waste a single second on patience.

"Flog them," she snapped at the nearest warriors, "until one of them confesses."

Then, without missing a beat, she turned to another cluster. "Search everything. Every load, every sack, every fold of cloth. Now."

The warriors scattered instantly, moving through the camp with in a brutally fast pace, tearing into supply bags and animal skins rolls like the gold bird might somehow be hiding inside a rolled-up blanket. I watched a warrior physically shake out a sack of dried meat like the bird would just fall out of it.

I had to hand it to Belladonna. Not once did she glance sideways at her own warriors, not even a flicker of suspicion toward any of the women standing there.

All that fury was pointed straight down at the slaves. Trust ran deep in this kingdom, apparently, just never downward. Never toward the people at the bottom.

"Dude, that is actually kind of impressive," I muttered to myself, watching the first whip crack through the air toward some poor slave who very clearly had nothing to do with any of this. The guy flinched so hard he dropped his head into the ground.

Yeah. Time to move.

I stepped forward, putting my own body between the raised whip and the row of trembling slaves, arms half-spread like I actually thought that would stop a beast-queendom warrior mid-swing. Genuinely no plan for what happened if it didn’t. Bold strategy, considering.

"If I may," I said, loud enough to cut through the chaos, "salvage the situation."

Every head in the clearing turned toward me. Great. Exactly the kind of attention I usually loved having and was currently regretting immediately.

Belladonna’s glare landed on me like a physical weight, heavy enough I actually felt it in my chest.

"Was it you who took it? Answer that question carefully. I will remove your head before you finish the sentence if you lie to me." She said, her voice landing cold and flat.

I raised both hands slowly, mock surrender written all over my face, doing my absolute best to look like a man with absolutely nothing to hide.

"It wasn’t me. I promise you that." Technically true, if you squinted hard enough and ignored the part where I’d personally launched it into a fire an hour ago with my own two hands.

"But," I continued, before she could decide my face looked guilty, "since it clearly matters this much to you, I figured I could help."

"You," she said, drawing the word out like it physically pained her to address me at all, "are not in a position to help me."

I scoffed internally. Pride. Beautiful, stubborn pride, sitting there even with her whole camp in chaos and her honor literally missing off her own horse, warriors flogging innocent slaves left and right, and this woman was still finding time to be offended by the suggestion that I might be useful.

"I’ve been helping you," I said instead, keeping my voice level, patient, the exact tone I used to use talking down angry husbands.

"This whole time. Your flowers. The two ’won over.’ Ring a bell?"

Her glare sharpened further, jaw tight, eyes narrowing to slits. And damn, even furious like this, even radiating enough danger to make a grown man’s knees weak, the woman was stunning. So distractingly stunning.

"I can work with angry. Angry’s hot on her. Really hot, actually." I thought to myself.

"Chill," I said out loud, immediately regretting the word choice the second it left my mouth, watching a flicker of pure confusion cross her face at a term that clearly meant nothing to her.

"Relax. Take a breath. No need to punish a bunch of innocent people over this. Power moves are great and all, very intimidating, truly, terrifying stuff - but they are not going to bring your bird back any faster than I can." I told her.

"How," Belladonna demanded, stepping closer now, close enough I had to actively resist the urge to step back, "are you so certain it was not one of the Bounds?"

"Because they know exactly who you are," I said simply, holding my ground. "Nobody stupid enough to touch your things. I don’t think any of them is stupid enough to want to lose their head over a shiny bird. Slaves aren’t idiots, whatever you think of them. Whoever’s behind this, it’s not them."

I let a beat pass, watching that land.

"But it doesn’t matter who took it. It doesn’t matter where it ended up. I can bring it back." I tapped a finger against my own temple. "With my magic."

Her eyes narrowed further, something calculating replacing the pure rage now. She studied me for a long moment, like she was trying to decide whether I was worth the risk of believing.

"Then bring it back," she said finally.

"That I intend on doing. But I will need to be close to where it usually sits," I said, already building the pitch brick by brick, watching her face for any crack. "I have to stay near it for a few hours. Let the magic call it home properly. Can’t just snap my fingers, unfortunately. Wish I could."

"And how do you intend to manage that, without slowing our march?" She asked again.

"Easy fix," I said, smooth as anything, leaning into the confidence like it was armor.

"So we don’t lose time on the road, I ride with you. I will work the magic while we travel. Two birds, one stone." I paused. "No pun intended."

Belladonna’s eyes went sharp and dangerous in an instant, all that careful calculation snapping shut like a trap.

"No slave shares my horse." she said, each word bitten off clean.

Then without waiting for any response from me, she turned from me entirely, already barking fresh orders at the warriors still tearing through supply bags, her voice rising back to that whip-crack volume from before.

"Search everywhere," she commanded. "If it is not found, the Bounds will be punished until someone produces it."