From Goblin Slave To Giga-Daddy: A Goblin's Guide to Getting a Harem
Chapter 63: Verbal Bitching!

Chapter 63: Verbal Bitching!

"I need you to stretch me goood after this, okay?"

Bryce choked on air.

"Don’t put it like that, honey... that sounded like a crime."

He shook his head as if trying to physically fling the mental image out of his brain.

Lyra blinked, confused.

"O-oh, I’m sorry! I just meant his hands are sooo good! Like, way better than anyone else who’s ever—y’know, tried me."

Bryce paused mid-breath and slowly faceplanted into his palms.

"What?!"

Lyra asked, genuinely surprised.

"Run. That. Back."

Lyra put a finger to her lips, thinking.

"Well... I said he isn’t like the others, and his hands are soooo good, like, can perform better—"

"Why are you emphasizing ’sooo goood’ like it’s a moan in a brothel? Can’t you say it like a normal person? ’His hands are effective.’ Boom. Done."

"But you understood what I meant, right?"

"...Well, yes."

"Then shut up."

Their bickering spiraled immediately into married-couple levels of passive-aggressive sass.

Alice watched the scene, lips curling into a polite chuckle.

Though, deep inside, the laugh didn’t reach her eyes.

She wasn’t in the mood for flirting or banter right now.

Not when her whole body was still buzzing, her thoughts a tangled mess of memories and heat.

All she wanted to know was:

What the hell did Rae do to Lyra?!

"Hey guys... What exactly is Rae stretching with his hands?"

Alice chimed in with a smile that almost reached her eyes.

Dead silence.

Bryce and Lyra froze mid-bicker like someone hit pause on their souls.

Then both of them slowly facepalmed, as if they were synchronizing an Olympic cringe.

Lyra even flinched. Physically flinched.

"I—I’m sorry, baby, I didn’t know it sounded like that."

Lyra said, rubbing Bryce’s shoulder like she just kicked his puppy.

Bryce just nodded, lips pressed in a tight line, visibly regretting not drinking poison this morning.

And now that Alice had said it out loud, Lyra got it.

The way she’d described Rae’s hands—yeah.

That was borderline illegal in twelve kingdoms.

She turned toward Alice, blushing.

"It’s just that... for some reason, Rae can massage me and, like, I last longer in training."

"I don’t know how he does it, but it works. And, oh baby, his hands are amazing."

Alice laughed, but it was tight and sharp.

"You don’t say... ha ha ha..."

The kind of laugh you do when someone tells you your ex-boyfriend is now dating a goddess with glowing boobs.

Her gaze flicked over to Rae, who was standing nearby, smiling like an innocent toddler caught with his hand in a cookie jar.

And not like the chaos gremlin responsible for igniting this storm inside her.

He gave her a massage?

A freaking massage?

To Lyra of all people?

The woman who could probably crush him with her thighs?!

Why?

Why hadn’t she gotten one?

She didn’t even get to enjoy those hands before bursting like a damn overripe melon.

But Lyra? She got a massage? And it was so good, huh?

Alice’s fingers curled into a fist, tightening the poor towels.

Unbelievable.

Alice was getting pissed. Like actually pissed.

It wasn’t just the fact that Rae had massaged Lyra.

It was how Lyra said it—like Rae was hers. Like he didn’t belong to Alice at all.

"Like, I know, right? Totally. Ha ha ha... Rae could be sooo haandy sometimes... ha ha ha."

Alice laughed, fake as hell. Her eyes sparkled with murder.

Alex blinked and scowled. Soo haandy? Why did that sound illegal?

He shot a side glance at Bryce, who looked just as disturbed—but gave Alex a tight nod.

Nope.

Not worth diving into that mess.

Their women were clearly just talking about massages.

Hopefully.

Probably.

...Gods help them.

Lyra chuckled too now, her smile eerily similar to Alice’s earlier.

"You got massages from him too? Ha ha ha..."

Alice’s smile curved into a flawless ’U’—so sharp it could slice steel.

"Ha ha ha. Massages? No, no, no... Something better than that. Ha ha ha."

The temperature dropped.

Lyra’s laugh stuttered.

"Ha ha... S-Something better than massage?"

The smile stayed on her face—but it was hollow now.

She blinked a little faster. Her jaw tightened just a hair.

"Oh, it’s nothing,"

Alice purred, flipping her hair casually.

"Just a tiny little secret between me and Rae. Right, Rae? Ha ha ha?"

She twisted slightly in her seat to glance back at him. And there he was.

Rae. Sweet little Rae. Nodding his damn head with that same innocent expression, like he didn’t just detonate a jealousy bomb in the middle of the camp.

The tent was heating up.

Not just awkwardly, but physically.

Bryce and Alex were fanning themselves like villagers in a drought.

"Why the hell is it so hot all of a sudden?"

Bryce groaned, wiping sweat from his brow with the sleeve of his tunic.

"Yeah, man, it’s like a damn sauna in here."

Alex muttered, pressing a towel to his chest and armpits.

He was so focused on not melting that he didn’t even register the verbal warfare his wife had just launched.

But one man knew the source of the heat.

Oh, he knew.

Rae stand back like a smug little devil, watching the invisible sparks snap between the two women.

They didn’t even realize it, but they were practically throwing psychic knives at each other.

He could feel it—the tension, the pettiness, the barely-concealed "bitch, he’s mine" energy flooding the space.

And he was thriving.

’Yes... yes... sow more sparks. Sow more jealousy. Ignite the flames of war...’

He almost wanted to rub his palms together and cackle, but he stayed in character.

The cute, innocent gremlin boy with no clue what was going on.

Because deep down, he knew exactly what this was.

It was a competition.

A rivalry between women.

And the prize?

Was him.

When jealousy blooms, women compete. When they compete, they try. And when they try, they offer. And when they offer, well... Rae reaps the fruits of desire.

A self-perpetuating cycle.

A cycle where Rae was not just a participant...

But the final reward.

And oh, he was so ready to be claimed.