Real connection, real trust, real human bonds that were messy and complicated and infinitely more valuable than this perfect illusion.
His merged power surged again, but this time it was different.
Not explosive, contained, and controlled.
A tempest held in perfect stillness, waiting to be released.
"This is beautiful," Jaenor acknowledged.
"Perfectly crafted to appeal to exactly what I might want. But it's empty. These women aren't real. This pleasure isn't earned. It's borrowed, artificial, and meaningless beyond the immediate sensation."
He stepped back from the women, and they reached for him with expressions of confused disappointment.
"I don't want gifts from a demon," Jaenor continued.
"I don't want pleasure that comes from manipulation rather than genuine connection. And I definitely don't want to be the kind of person who accepts bribes, even when those bribes are wrapped in attractive packaging."
