Vaid Empire: Conquest
Chapter 57
16th of Thriduin, 13 AVE.
Kingdom of Spirexia, Between Prismi and Drin.
“There it is,” Hesin said as he stood beside The God Emperor, pointing across the wet plains. In the distance, a single structure stood alone, surrounded by miles of tall grass and occasional pools of water.
“Are you certain of the Truthseekers’ reports?” Dominax asked, studying the building closely. He had dressed only in his one-suit and cloak, his hood pulled up in preparation for the meeting. “There can be no mistakes in this.”
“Of course,” Hesin said from behind his mask. A breeze ran up the hill they stood upon, overlooking the stretch of land before them. “The place has been deserted until this morning. He came alone, just as promised.”
“Then we shall begin.” A satisfied grin played across Dominax’s face as he left his advisor behind, moving to descend the hill.
He followed the path they had carved for him, emerging onto the abandoned road. Old and forgotten, the rough cobblestones had evidently lost their battle to hold back the vegetation, appearing as little more than a neglected trail, rather than a road once used by hundreds of worshippers. The grass on either side had grown to just surpass his own height, creating walls of vibrant green stalks interspersed with red and orange offshoots.
The plants felt wet as he passed, running his hand along them, and knowing several of his Truthseekers remained hidden amongst the vegetation. At a single hint of treachery, they’d spring forth.
As he approached, the temple slowly came into view before him. Circular in shape, it had been built of three stacked levels, each smaller than the one beneath. The dome capping its top level had collapsed long ago, and the shattered remnants of the building appeared overgrown with vines as the land attempted to reclaim the structure.
Eventually he reached his target, the decrepit road leading him directly to the temple’s entrance. The great doors lay rotting on the overgrown ground, their hinges long rusted away. He stepped through, emerging into the single chamber of the building. Two circular rows of pillars held up the top layers of the building, the ceiling gradually narrowing until it reached the shattered dome.
Sunlight trickled across the cracked tiles of the floor as he crept his way between pillars and rubble, his silver eyes falling upon a man as he neared the chamber’s center.
Cloaked and hooded, the man was seated upon a large chunk of the collapsed dome. He appeared lost in thought before Dominax allowed him to hear his approach, immediately standing in preparation.
“Who do I find here, wishing to discuss betrayal?” Dominax’s voice boomed through the chamber. He came to a stop before him, folding his arms, yet prepared to unleash a blast of electricity at the first hint of danger.
“Ah, you came. The God Emperor, I presume? Your eyes give you away, though one can never be too certain,” the stranger questioned in a polite tone. He stood proud, hands clasped behind his back.
Dominax nodded before removing his hood, silvery hair shimmering in the natural light. “It’s a dangerous thing to waste my time when battle lays upon the horizon.”
“Indeed, yet I wouldn’t have requested your presence if our interests weren’t strictly mutual.” The man’s elegant accent flavored his words, yet he spoke the southern tongue with a familiar ease.
Dominax watched as he removed his hood, revealing a head of wavy dark hair, accented with hints of gray. Dark eyes peered from a calm and cleanly shaven face, lined with faint wrinkles that had only just begun to age his features. His tunic appeared to be made of fine fabric, modest, yet no doubt expensive, and embroidered with intricate green details. The item that caught Dominax’s eye, however, was a small ring upon his finger, decorated with a green gem. “So your messenger claimed.”
“Quinla is…alive, isn’t she?” the stranger asked, concealing his concern from his face, though not from Dominax’s senses.
“I would not harm a prisoner without first learning her value. What is she to you? A lover? A bondmate? Perhaps a…” An awareness began to claim him as he studied the man’s face. Slowly, he closed his eyes, sensing the man’s spiritual bonds. They connected to a father, unknown to Dominax, yet clearly deceased. Beyond was a grandfather, extending down another branch to a daughter, then a granddaughter. He had met her, knowing the composition of her soul. He smirked as he opened his eyes. “Ah…a cousin, then.”
The man hid his surprise well, his expressions controlled. He swallowed, choosing his words carefully. “We’ve heard rumors, of course. The one who sees what others cannot.”
“You’re royalty,” Dominax stated with a grin. “Yet which one, I wonder? Your family tree appears to have grown dangerously sparse. I see only one possibility.”
A light chuckle eased from the man as his posture relaxed. “I would have liked to retain my anonymity for a moment more, yet I suppose proper introductions are in order. I am Rolir of House Stire, King of Spirexia.”
Dominax watched him bow, unmoving. “A king conspires against his own throne. How very curious.”
Rolir raised a finger, nearly sounding offended. “With good reason, mind you. I don’t gamble frivolously with the fate of my kingdom. I know the price of what I intend to propose, yet the outcome may be grand indeed.”
“Then make your proposal, unless you desire to delay me until your army arrives.”
He shook his head. “I assure you that deception remains far from my intentions. I’ve halted my men for the day, else they’d have stormed through this ruin by now. No, your majesty, I’ve come to seek an end to this bloodshed.”
“You know how this may end, Rolir. Kneel before me. Swear your allegiance to my throne before the masses,” Dominax explained, beginning to circle the man. “I’m not a beast that cannot be reasoned with. I have no desire to slaughter beings that may soon lay under my domain. You may even retain your crown, should you agree to certain requirements.”
“Ah, were that it was so simple. To surrender Spirexia without resistance? The population would demand my head! They’d have it too, eventually. Be it years or decades, someone would find their way to me. I’d never have peace. Not entirely.”
Dominax traced his fingers over the passing rubble as he continued to circle. “You’d cower from doing what’s necessary out of…fear? What is inner peace to a ruler when he holds the fate of countless within his grasp?”
Rolir’s face hardened. “You may judge me all you like, yet I know my people well. You’ve conquered two of our prominent cities. That’s notable, to be sure, yet hardly a total victory. Many rightly believe we’ll withstand your invasion, and nothing short of taking The Capital will convince them otherwise. We aren’t alone, after all, as The Kingdom of Harin is prepared to send aid. Yet another reason it’s become critical for us to speak, as we must act before they arrive.”
“Then you had better explain what you intend.”
Apprehension claimed the king as he sighed. “I…propose a deal, and one that can never be learned by anyone but ourselves. My army marches to meet yours. This I cannot prevent, yet I can lead them into mistakes that’ll prove to be devastating. Afterwards, you must march upon Spiri. The Capital is well defended, yet Quinla shall provide you with directions to a hidden tunnel near the lake for a group of your…how do you call them? Truthseekers? It should prove to be a relatively simple task for them to undermine our defenses from within. The city shall fall with little loss of life, and we’ll surrender to you. Do this…and I shall send proclamations to every corner of Spirexia to lay down their weapons and submit to your rule.”
Coming to a stop, Dominax tilted his head in curiosity. “Quite an unceremonious end to a proud kingdom. A moment ago, you were certain you could stand against me. Now, you eagerly accept the inevitable.”
“My reasons extend beyond what I’ve shared, yet I assure you that this would be in the best interest of all involved.”
Dominax waited, his piercing eyes demanding more.
Reluctantly, the king gritted his teeth before continuing. “When all is settled, I ask only that you allow me to retire from court life. Grant the crown to whoever you desire, and you shall never hear from me again.”
Utterly baffled, Dominax stepped closer. “You’d willingly relinquish your claim to your ancestor’s throne?”
Rolir nodded, yet when he saw that his answer wouldn’t satisfy his foe, he sighed once more. “You’ve ruled for many years yourself. Tell me, in all that time, did you never once consider tossing aside your crown and leaving it all behind?”
Dominax squinted. “There were moments that tested me, yet a being of worth does what’s necessary.”
“So I have.” Rolir opened his hands in exasperation. “For years I’ve withstood the duties of the throne without complaint. Every grueling meeting, every endless feast with nobles seeking my favor. The population pesters me daily to oversee matters hardly more noteworthy than farmers asking for subsidies. It’s enough to drive a man mad, yet I endured. Now, I shall have my peace, for is a man not entitled to a life of his own design?”
“Many would gladly take your place.”
“And many would crumble sooner than I,” Rolir readily replied. He paused to allow his passions to dampen, regaining a calm control over his tone. “They’d seek a blessing and discover a curse instead. The crown is weary of me and I of it. I’ve stored away a small fortune in preparation for a departure I’ve never truly thought I’d make until now. Take the kingdom, every mile of it, for they’ll be better off under your rule in any case. For myself, I envision only a home beside the lake and fresh air. Perhaps then I’ll discover some small quiet.”
Dominax stroked his beard. “And of your House? Do you hold no concern for your family’s legacy? Do you scorn your ancestors’ achievements?”
“Scorn? Kindly, don’t insult me.” Rolir attempted to remain polite. “As you’ve seen for yourself, our numbers have faded over the generations until only Quinla and I remain. There’s very little of my family left to ‘scorn’.”
“Then your duty would have been to sire as many children as is required to ensure your House survives.” Dominax stated firmly.
“I should add additional responsibly to days already torturously long?” Rolir shook his head. “I think not. No woman nor children at my side vying for my attention. Grant me peace and quiet over all that any day.”
Entirely baffled, Dominax controlled a steadily rising disgust building within him. Every being supposedly desired to breed, yet here stood a man that went against everything he valued. No mere Foin who had relinquished his fertility to rule, but a man that cared neither for a crown nor a bloodline. “What is a man who possesses neither family nor duty? A man without a legacy or purpose?”
“A man that may truly rest,” Rolir replied plainly. “Even still, I hold no animosity towards my ancestors for placing me upon the throne. Thus, I’ve provided a compromise in the form of Quinla. We were both aware of the pattern you’ve displayed before she agreed to intentionally allow herself to be captured. Many have heard the whispers about the kings beneath your rule, and of their true paternity. You allow us all to speak the obvious, yet rumors aren’t enough to threaten your rule. A clever maneuver, if I may say.” The king smiled. “I possess no daughters, and thus I offer what you would have taken anyways; Quinla. Place her upon the throne as you’ve done our fellow northern princess Felza and sire her heir. She’s eager to continue our family line, and I’ll wash my hands of the entire ordeal.”
A thought of the seductive hybrid ran through Dominax’s mind, and he allowed an intrigued smirk to ease his hard expression. “A worthy compromise. You may take your rest, Rolir, for I must have a king with ambition upon your throne. Not a ruler consumed by a craving for power, but a being willing to act when necessary. A being eager to provide order and stability, despite what it demands of him. That isn’t you, and thus, you shall have your hut beside your lake.”
Rolir nodded gracefully. “Then we have an accord?”
“Of course,” Dominax chuckled. “Our differences notwithstanding, one can hardly deny an offer such as this.”
Relief crossed the king’s face as he reached out, offering a hand. “My surrender must appear legitimate. Make me a man pushed to the edge of defeat, relinquishing my crown for the wellbeing of my people. Perhaps history will speak of my selfless decision. Perhaps not. It matters little, for I merely want my peace and quiet.”
“Then you shall have it.” Dominax accepted the hand, grasping his forearm in the human tradition. They shook once, sealing their agreement. The king moved to drop his hand, yet Dominax held tightly, pulling him closer as his piercing silver eyes stared into his. “Yet I shall warn you, Rolir. No hint of deception or incompetence on your part shall be tolerated. We must proceed carefully, and when all has settled, there can be no loose ends. Do you understand?”
Feeling a shiver, Rolir nodded.
Satisfied, Dominax released his arm. “Then we’re finished here. I suggest you return to your army quickly, for we have a battle that requires your defeat.”
17th of Thriduin, 13 AVE.
Domani, Capital of The Vaid Empire.
Light moans echoed quietly through the throne room.
“Almost…ahh…there…” Vixin muttered, gripping the throne beneath her. “You’re doing…well…”
Kneeling before her, a slave girl continued her work eagerly, face buried between the princess’s spread thighs. Vixin clenched up, releasing a squeak as she reached her limit. Squirting, she drenched the girl’s pretty face, her breath catching in her throat.
Finally, she eased, relaxing into the throne with euphoria. Her womanhood tingled, delighted at the aftermath of her release. “Ahh…good girl…thank you…”
The slave smiled, beginning to clean the princess’s juices from the surface of her father’s throne. She then moved the groin of Vixin’s leotard back into place, concealing her royal loins.
Granting the slave a nod of gratitude, Vixin required a moment to calm herself. The embarrassment she felt at knowing the guards were watching had been diminished each time she had used a girl to release her stress. Now, sensing their arousal, knowing they had heard her moans, she couldn’t help but feel a hint of excitement.
Easing her breaths, she composed herself before gesturing to a guard beside the side entrance, granting permission to bring in the prisoner. They hadn’t been waiting long, yet she couldn’t delay her duty any longer.
The guard ushered in a pair of legionaries, dragging a woman forward as they approached the throne. No ordinary prisoner, she was the only other Lanthian Vixin had ever seen aside from Lalian.
Doing her best to appear every bit as royal as her station demanded, Vixin straightened up as she peered down from atop the throne. Her mind stubbornly lingered on the slave, already missing her mouth, yet she felt a sudden shift of interest as her silver eyes studied the prisoner.
Wearing only a loincloth as her golden armor had been stripped away, the Lanthian straightened up defiantly after the guards pushed her to stand before the first step of the throne dais. Vixin couldn’t help but study her, assessing every alluring curve of her athletic yet feminine body. As typical of her species, her green skin came in two shades, dark and light meeting in the center. A deep green breast, and a fairer green breast, each round and perky. Her lithe curves stirred Vixin’s already moist loins, reigniting her desire, no less due to the chains binding the woman’s wrists and ankles.
It was an odd thing to see a female of Lalian’s species, recognizing features she had become familiar with on a single person over the entirety of her life, yet she was still fascinated at the differences. Unlike her father’s green advisor, Vixin noted that the woman retained her large, smooth wings extending from her back. The right remained tucked neatly behind her, while the left appeared to twitch in visible pain. It was no wonder, for she could clearly see a large tear in the green skin. She doubted the woman could fly with such an injury, yet the guards escorting her each held the end of chain leashes connected to a collar around her delicate neck.
“Welcome to the heart of The Vaid Empire,” Vixin greeted her as she opened her hands invitingly. When the woman merely continued to glare, her smirk dampened with a hint of embarrassment. “Do you have nothing to say for yourself?”
“My lady, we captured this one near The City of Luxi,” one of her guards began to explain after further silence. “We’ve been unable to determine if she understands our tongue, as she’s offered little but the anger you see now.”
“Luxi?” Vixin repeated, masking her astonishment. “That’s quite far into Empire territory. How did you manage to evade capture until now?”
Again, the woman only glared, attempting to move aside a strand of green hair dangling over her eye. As if to match the dual shades of her skin, she had styled her hair in two. The left side came in long flowing waves, while all traces of hair on the right side of her head had been entirely removed.
“You will answer when the princess speaks!” the other guard commanded, yanking the leash hard. The woman turned her fury upon him, unleashing a flurry of harsh words in her native tongue.
Vixin raised her hand to stop him. “That’s quite alright. If a translator is truly required, it may be some time before we locate one. Still, I’d like to be certain,” she said as she stood from the throne, descending each step with a seductive elegance until she stood just a step above the prisoner. “If you can speak our tongue, do so now, and I vow that your fate shall be fair.”
The green woman hesitated, a faint hint of fear flashing through her eyes before she suddenly burst into another flurry of what could only be insults in her vicious tongue.
Vixin stopped her by cupping the prisoner’s chin, adopting a calm expression as she peered down. The woman would see only a mask of royal arrogance, rather than the uncertainty she truly felt.
“She was traveling in a group, my lady,” the guard explained, attempting to break the tension of the moment. “Archers were able to subdue four of her companions, though only three survived their injuries, including this one.”
“Then the other two? Where are they?” Vixin asked as she released her, hiding her relief at the success of her intimidation.
“Dead,” the other guard replied gravely. “They slit their own throats the first night of their capture. Apologies, my lady…we should have transported them far more securely.”
“Yet this one still lives,” Vixin pointed out. She saw the hatred in the woman’s eyes, yet there was a hint of something deeper. “Very curious indeed. You should send word to my father at once. He must know what’s happened,” she said, biting her lip in thought. “He’ll know how best to proceed.”
“And of her?” the guard questioned, tugging the leash.
“Place her under strict guard. Females only, of course. We can’t lose this one like the rest, and I won’t risk another mishap that may allow her to escape or die,” Vixin commanded before her attention fell once more upon the tattered wing with disapproval. “And for The Creator’s sake, send a healer to properly treat her injuries!”
The guards bowed in confirmation before beginning to pull the prisoner away. She struggled, taking a final look back at the princess. For an instant their eyes met, silver against green, and then she was ushered from the chamber.
Vixin released a breath of tension, relieved to drop her commanding facade. For a moment she wished her father were beside her now, his commanding presence directing the responsibility of rulership from her own shoulders.
The next appointment already awaited her, she knew, but as she glanced over to the girls relaxing about the chamber, she decided they could wait a moment more.
18th of Thriduin, 13 AVE.
Kingdom of Spirexia, Between Prismi and Drin.
Victory. When the warriors returned to camp, their celebratory cries were of victory.
“Had I known I’d miss the sensation of battle to this extent, I’d have demanded to accompany you to Kinia,” Irith stated as they walked through the sea of tents, a smile gleaming upon her elegant face.
“I would not have bent so easily,” Dominax replied. When Rolir’s army lay dashed across the landscape, when the speeches were concluded, and when the legion had settled back into camp for the night, he had finally deemed it the proper moment to find his own tent.
They had moved further south, the tents of their camp interspersed with towering boulders left behind during the world’s creation. They loomed over them like giants hidden in the darkness of night, only the flickering of torches granting hints of their size.
“Rolir retreats for Drin, then?” Irith asked as they strolled through a group of wounded legionaries. Battered and bloodied, they sat with their white helmets on the ground beside them, doing their best to bow their heads as they passed. An unlucky few, in a battle so large.
“And we make our way for Spiri,” Dominax confirmed with a knowing grin, for Hesin and his Truthseekers had already departed in the night.
Irith’s hips swayed as she moved, her long skirt stained with dirt. “It’s an…odd thing to know I’ll see their downfall. We’ve fought for nearly a millennium, trading victories and defeats, only for an outsider to settle all disputes and ancient debts.”
“We?” Dominax granted her a disapproving glance.
She chuckled. “The Empire is my home now, its people my people. There’s nothing left in the north for me now, yet memories aren’t so easily forgotten,” she said before beginning to ponder. “In any case, I suppose this is how it should be. Neither Harin nor Spirexia may claim a final victory.”
“They’ll be bound together beneath my throne.” Dominax nodded. “Yet consider the alternative. Consider the wars they’ve fought for centuries, and of the battles they’ve yet to fight. History would continue its pattern of chaos and conflict, two independent realms bleeding their populations endlessly.”
“Of course, my love.” She had heard this particular lecture more times than she cared to count, yet the passion in his deep voice still beckoned a smile from her lips.
The command tent came into view, nestled against the side of the largest of the monolithic boulders. It claimed the center of the camp, surrounded by a sea of tents.
“My love, a moment.” Irith touched his arm as she slowed, guiding him to stop before they reached the entrance. She lowered her voice. “I sent orders after the battle to prepare the prisoner for tonight. If my girls did their job, she should be waiting within.”
“Prisoner? You may consider her our ally, so long as Rolir upholds our deal,” Dominax replied as he looked to the oversized tent in curiosity.
Irith touched his cheek, gently returning his attention to her. “I understand what you must do, my love. I’ve had a tent prepared for myself and the children. Simply…” She paused as she looked around, lowering her voice to a seductive whisper. “Simply show her what it means to breed with my mate. Make her scream.”
Dominax met her blue eyes, seeing the arousal dancing within. He granted her an insidious grin before pulling her into a kiss.
After a moment she reluctantly pulled away, still tasting his lips as she granted him a departing nod. “She’s waiting. You had better hurry before I change my mind and claim her place instead.”
Watching her walk away, he paused to appreciate the swaying of her hips before pulling aside the fabric entrance. The main command room lay empty and bare, yet as he entered his sleeping quarters, he was met with the sight of the hybrid.
Seated at a small desk beside the bed, she looked up from what she had been reading to offer a coy smile. Rising to stand, she moved towards him like a hungry predator, dark eyes never leaving his. “Ah, so you’ve finally returned. Congratulations on your victory, your majesty.”
He studied her as she touched his chest plate, taking in every detail of her striking beauty. The tattered dress she had worn had been replaced with a hooded shawl of deep green, just long enough to reach the top of her bare thighs. Curled horns poked out from beneath the hood, smaller than those of a pureblooded Arkos. “Your cousin played his part well.”
“It would seem so,” she said, seeing the splatters of blood upon his white armor. It deterred her little, for her hands found the straps to his armor. “One can hardly call our first encounter a proper introduction. It’s about time we met. Alone, without chains. Mine…nor yours.”
He allowed her to begin removing his armor, assisting when necessary. “Your cousin claims you understand what our deal requires of you. He even claims you’re ‘eager’.”
“Did he?” A seductive smile tugged at her features, plump pink lips to decorate the smooth dark gray skin of her face. “I suppose one could say I am quite enthusiastic about our bargain.”
He could see the clear hunger in her eyes, fingers attempting to conceal desperation as they undressed him. Leaving his bloodied armor on the floor, he stepped forwards to place his hands onto her hips, feeling her slim form beneath the shawl. “Enthusiasm is all I require. Show me your ambition, your passion, and you shall leave this tent with an heir in your belly.”
Plain words seemed to have their effect upon her, hearing what other suitors of her former royal court would never dare say outright. She nearly shuddered, blushing with arousal as her primal instincts flared. “Passion? Your majesty, you know very little of the craving I’ve held.”
“Show me.”
His deep voice dancing in her ears, she pulled back her hood to reveal a head of dark hair, falling back in a loose braid not quite as long as Irith’s. She began to unfasten the clasps holding the side of the shawl, pulling it away and discarding it to reveal herself. Tight and elegant, her hybrid body shared the color of her face, lacking the stripes and tail of a true Arkos.
Enthralled by her allure, he caressed her modest curves as his hands traveled upwards, finding her slender chest. To be voluptuous was hardly an Arkos trait, yet her human mother had granted her round breasts that did their best to fill his hands as he held them.
Biting her lip at his touch, she forced herself to pull away, moving to mount the bed. Slowly, deliberately, she maneuvered with a seductive calm as she lowered herself onto her hands and knees.
He watched as she presented herself to him, a dark gray rump swaying to entice him further. A human pink colored her lower lips, already glistening with anticipation.
Quickly, he removed his one-suit before moving to join her atop the bed. He claimed his place behind her, caressing her asscheek and feeling her smooth skin beneath his touch. The other hand ran down her thigh, feeling the light muscle tensing as he explored.
“If you could only understand how long I’ve waited…” her voice came quietly, as if words risked spoiling the moment. “Rolir has allowed House Stire to wither away. I shall grant it new blood…”
Feeling her rump push back against him, as if begging to be claimed, he reached down to rub his erection against her glistening labia. She nearly purred with need, rocking her hips to gently rub against him.
His shaft felt her warmth, her eagerness, and he’d delay no longer. Lining up with her waiting womanhood, he gritted his teeth as he pushed forwards, feeling her tightness clamping down as he slid inside.
She gasped at his size, slowly releasing a groaning moan as he eased himself inside. Never had she been taken deeper, feeling as if he’d break her, and loving every moment as she stretched to accommodate him.
Moving his hips, he began to push in and out of her snug embrace, savoring the sensation of her loins. Never before had he experienced a hybrid in bed, noting the subtle differences in texture and flexibility from the vaginas of either species.
She pushed back against him, matching the rhythm of his thrusts as if desperate to milk his cock. Her braid hung over her shoulder as she glanced back, concealing no trace of her ample enjoyment.
“Your cousin was a fool…ahh…to allow your House to falter,” Dominax’s voice rumbled as his hands steadied her hips. “I’ll grant you an heir that won’t…share his reluctance.”
“Ooohhh…” A moan eased from her throat. “Long have I waited…for Rolir to pair me with a bondmate. Now such customs shall be irrelevant…ahh…under your rule. I’m ready…your majesty…your holiness! I’m ready to bear a king!”
He could hear the wetness of her womanhood with each slow thrust, sensing her desire burning within her hybrid body. Such a terrible thing it was, to neglect the passions of a young woman. He’d reward her patient womb.
“They called my mother…ahh…a whore for taking my father to bed,” Quinla moaned. “They were bondmates, yet I still hear some call me bastard. Halfbreed. They’ll be quite surprised…ahh…to realize the royal line shall continue only through ME…”
A grin claimed Dominax as he heard ambition drip from her tone, increasing his speed. His hold upon her hips tightened, guiding her as he used her body for leverage.
Her moaning grew louder and louder with each passing moment, the sounds of their mating echoing beyond the fabric walls of the oversized tent. He wanted everyone to hear their pleasure, to know their God Emperor had claimed yet another beautiful lover.
A thrust, then another, and another, each coming quicker than the last, Quinla gripped the sheets. She began to shake, plump lips parting in satisfaction as she climaxed. Her body understood how the night would end, overjoyed at having finally found a proper mate.
She could smell the remnants of battle clinging to him. His perspiration, blood, dirt. No mere pompous Lord sought to squirt an heir into her belly tonight. A man willing to lead his warriors into battle was inside of her instead, ravaging her body with each powerful movement.
He slammed into her with increasing force, no longer holding back. The bed rocked beneath them, the wood creaking loudly. She had shown courage and commitment to her aims by allowing herself to be captured, and he held every intention of demonstrating the pleasure that worthy beings deserved.
“Gods yes…please…ooohhh…I’m yours!” she cried out. “Grant me your seed!”
A firm spank caused her to yelp with excitement before his hand returned to her hip, pulling her closer as if attempting to drive himself deeper than her limit could allow. His cock pressed against her furthest wall, obsessed with what lay on the other side.
“Ooohhh…breed me…” she begged, lowering her face until her chin touched the sheets. She raised her rump higher, as if bowing in complete submission. “Fill me with your divine seed! Oooohhh please…”
Rocking in and out with an expert rhythm that drove her wild, the display before him coaxed his primal instincts. A female had offered herself entirely to him, seeking to procreate. He could sense her body preparing to conceive, nearly able to smell her pheromones with his heightened sense of smell.
“Breed my hybrid body…aahhh…fill my belly with a pure child! See if they’ll call me halfbreed then!” she moaned, dark eyes briefly rolling back in ecstasy.
He wanted to see his child swell within her, fascinated with the possibility of siring a hybrid’s baby. He knew enough from the small amount of research he had collected to predict the basics. Their offspring would appear nearly human, stemming from a pure human grandmother and father. Still, the possible variations intrigued him, nearly as much as the biological need to spread his seed.
Quinla groaned as he reached down to seize her long braid, granting it a gentle yank. Another harder pull coaxed a submissive whimper, allowing him to sense an increase of her arousal flowing through her tight gray body.
“Y…yes…oooohhhh your holiness…break me! The nobles say my blood is tainted…” She moaned louder than before, her desperation rising beyond what she thought she’d be capable of. “Purify my line with your seed…and return House Stire to its proper glory!”
“You are…an oddity…” He chuckled, slamming in and out. “Yet you’ll have the child you seek!”
Satisfaction gripped her as she climaxed once more, her body begging to feel his warmth. She knew that whatever minor infertility that had cursed their House to wither away each generation would matter little when met with his divine seed, so long as the rumors regarding him were true. She herself had been the prize of her parents, no less due to the added difficulty in conceiving hybrids, yet every inch of her being was certain that her new lover would make quick work of her womb.
The moment to mix their blood was steadily approaching with each thrust. Testicles beginning to ache with pent-up desire, he felt his own body growing unwilling to delay its duty much longer.
“Get me pregnant…your majesty! Your…ooohhh…your holiness!” she nearly screamed, gripping the sheets tightly with both hands. No doubt her words carried beyond the tent, a more triumphant proclamation than those after the battle.
Holding her gray rump after releasing her braid, slamming against her, he heard her cry out in her native tongue. Her accented words reminded him of Irith, identifying several of the few words she had taught him over the years. Their elegance remained despite her screaming pleasure. “I want…your child…”
Forcing himself hard into her, he nearly roared in primal heat as his cock began to spurt. Her gray body trembled beneath him as he leaned over her, pouring forth the viscous liquid she had begged for.
Biting the sheets in consuming passion, she felt his potent sperm claim her. A subtle swaying of her hips was all she could muster, her mind focused entirely on the new sensation of raw mating.
Thick jets burst into her, filling until her tight pussy could hold no more. She felt it overflow from her embrace, oozing down her thighs to drip onto the bed. Her eyes fluttered at the inhuman quantity, receiving vastly more than she could manage.
They remained still for a moment, cock buried deep, before he finally slid from her squeezing grip. His soaked shaft hung in the air behind her, releasing the very last of his contents in a thin trickle from his tip.
Her dripping lower lips were sent into light contractions, as if missing his presence. She didn’t dare move, desiring to avoid spilling a single drop more.
“You…did well, Queen Regent,” Dominax chuckled, caressing her smooth rump as he appreciated the result of his efforts. “When Spiri falls…you shall rule until your heir comes of age.”
She opened her mouth to thank him, finding that her words came only as a satisfied groan. Her eyes slowly closed, desiring to enjoy every second of the sensation.
Finally, when they had both regained their composure, he guided her to rest on her side. Joining her, he pulled her rear to nestle against his groin.
“C…can I stay…the night?” she asked, her battered mind unable to maintain her seductive calm.
A thought of Irith told him otherwise, yet after a moment he nodded. Her place tonight was with their children.
Quinla touched his arm as it wrapped around her, looking down to see a gash where his armor hadn’t covered. Though it must have been caused during the battle hours earlier, she was mystified to see that it was already in the process of healing. Soon, only a scar would remain. “What…are you? Truly?”
“A necessity.” He closed his silver eyes.
Her hand tightened upon his arm, already feeling her ambitions simmering. “Seed from a divine source indeed…”
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