by Sarah Hawke
Well, Jorem couldn’t even begin to imagine what that kind of world would look like. Thankfully, he wouldn’t have to, because he would almost certainly be dead.
On the other hand, if Highwind prevailed, Vorsalos would surely fall into chaos the likes of which no one had seen since the War of the Three Cities. Jorem didn’t know what the Huntresses and Sanctori would do without their mistress to guide them, but it surely wouldn’t be anything good.
Maybe Valuri will want to return home and try to set things right. Escar knows that Kaseya will want to go back to Nol Krovos and aid in the recovery. No matter what happens, everything is about to change for better or worse…
Jorem buried the thought as he approached the Rose. The future could wait; right now, he still had a bargain to keep.
He strode up the polished steps, and he wasn’t the least bit surprised when the door opened before he had a chance to knock. Solemi’s brutish half-orc bodyguard was standing on the other side, fully armed and armored but not actually holding his giant ax. The man pointed past the foyer with a giant green thumb, and Jorem silently nodded and stepped into the main room with its empty stage surrounded by a ring of equally empty tables.
“It really is incredible how much has changed in just a few short months, isn’t it?”
Solemi’s cool, cultured voice seemed to come from everywhere at once before she materialized from the shadows around a table by the wall, stepping forth like some kind of fey spirit…or demon. She was clad in a diaphanous silver dress, and she floated toward him with her usual ethereal grace.
“It feels like only yesterday that you were sitting at that table weaving charm spells on my employees,” Solemi went on with a smirk. The sweet scent of her perfume threatened to weave a spell over him as surely as her actual magic. “And of course, neither of us will ever forget what happened next.”
“You mean when you reached into my head and took control of my body?” Jorem asked. “You’re right, I haven’t forgotten that.”
“I remember the feeling when you entered me for the first time,” she said, her eyes fluttering shut. “And I can still feel your strong hands at my waist…”
“I’m so glad I made an impression,” he muttered.
“You should be. I doubt either of us fully understood the events we set in motion that day.” Her green eyes reopened, and her smile turned so winsome it was almost painful. “You were even better than I hoped. And the look on Kaseya’s face while she watched her Maskari take me…I knew right then that she was something special. There wasn’t a single spark of jealousy in her pretty blue eyes. She just wanted to watch and learn so she could please you better in the future.”
Solemi chuckled and slowly dragged her finger down the length of his jacket. “I almost asked you to bring her along. I assume you’re planning on breeding her soon as well. She will make an excellent mother…”
Jorem grimaced. He couldn’t deny that he had imagined what it might be like to have children with her someday…but so far, it had all been idle daydreaming. There was something disturbing about hearing Solemi talk about breeding in such stark terms.
“We’ve been a little too busy trying to survive the present to worry about the future,” Jorem said.
“Fair enough, though a man in your position should be careful about fixating too much on the day-to-day when there is so much at stake for our people,” Solemi said. “When this battle is over, the echoes of your victory will ripple across all of Torsia. The balance of power will be upended, and sorcerers across the continent will rise up in the name of the new Wyrm Lord.”
Jorem swallowed, a tremor of unease rippling through him. “I think you might be getting ahead of yourself. We haven’t won the battle yet.”
“But you will.”
“How do you know?” he asked. “Are you a prophet and an illusionist now?”
“Sorcery is destined to prevail over divinity,” she said flatly. “The age of the gods ended a long time ago, and the world has been waiting for a new generation of dragons to take their rightful place as its rulers. You’ve read the history of the Avetharri—it was infighting, not the gods, that doomed their empire. But you don’t have to repeat their mistakes. History has given our people a chance to start again, and it is imperative that we make the best of it.”
Jorem leaned away and crossed his arms. “You and I must have read very different books. The Wyrm Lords were never benevolent sovereigns—they were brutal oppressors, just like anyone else who has ever wielded real power.”
“But you don’t have to be,” Solemi told him. “When this is over, the Northern Reaches will spend a decade recovering from the war, and Vorsalos will descend into total anarchy without a strong leader to take the Inquisitrix’s place. Its people will look to you, the dragon, to save them from the chaos and lead them into the future.”
“We’ll see,” Jorem said. “But you have to remember that I’m nothing like you—I don’t spend every other second planning my grandiose rise to power.”
“You should…and I’m confident that you will, in time.” Solemi chuckled softly and traced her hand down the front of his jacket again. “But there is far more to your heritage than fire and death. Do you have any idea what will happen when the great kingdoms of the world learn about you? Noble families from here to Varellon will be begging you to breed their daughters and sire a new generation of dragons. You will have the opportunity to build alliances across the world. In time, you could forge your own empire!”
Jorem shivered. “You’re already making me regret this deal.”
“Oh, come now, it will be glorious!” Solemi told him. “Queen Malareth of Nelu’Thalas, the Imperators of the Crell Sovereignty…every ruler in the world who hasn’t blinded themselves to the power of the Aether will wish to earn your favor. And you, the true Dragon of Highwind, will be able to have any woman you want.”
“I already have the women I want,” Jorem said.
Solemi chuckled again. “It’s obvious why they’re drawn to you. You have a certain…presence about you. I knew you were special even before I learned the truth about the legacy in your blood.”
“Uh-huh,” he muttered. “Look, I didn’t come here to be patronized. We made an agreement.”
“Yes, we did,” she said, arching an eyebrow at one of the nearby tables. “You could take me right here, if you wish, though I suspect we will both be more comfortable upstairs.”
The offer triggered a wave of fierce, familiar desire. Jorem was seriously tempted to spin her around, bend her over, and rip her dress wide open—not out of lust, but out of sheer frustration. His mind was more convinced than ever that this was a bad idea—maybe even the worst idea he’d had in a long time—but unfortunately his cock didn’t agree. He was already as hard and ready as when he’d entered the Silken Rose for the first time, an amazon he barely knew and scarcely understood at his side, and he had no doubt that he could give Solemi what she wanted despite the fun he’d had with Val and Kaseya this afternoon. Selvhara must have been right about the legendary stamina and libido of the Wyrm Lords…
“Upstairs,” he managed to get out.
Solemi gave him a smile that was somehow warm and wicked all at once. “As you wish, Wyrm Lord.”
He followed, half in a trance, as Solemi turned and led him to the spiral stairs along the wall, and he wasn’t the least bit surprised when she ascended and finally stopped outside the same private den where he had slept with her for the first time. A single glance down the hall revealed that all the other rooms had been cleared out, but not this one. The purple bedding and plush pillows looked as comfortable as ever, and the air still smelled faintly of lilacs.
One day, I’ll look back on this and realize Val was right—I should have just burned this whole place to the ground.
“Please, have a seat,” Solemi said, gesturing to the bed as she led him inside. “I want you to be as comfortable as possible.”
Jorem swallowed anxiously as he idl
y fidgeted with the collar of his jacket. He felt nearly as awkward as the first time he’d entered a brothel as a teenager back in Vorsalos. His stomach had started to flutter, and his hands were getting clammy.
Gods, what was I thinking when I agreed to this?
“Oh, don’t give me that look,” Solemi scolded. “You and I aren’t guileless fools desperate to steal a first kiss. There is no reason we can’t enjoy one another’s company one last time.”
“I don’t know, I can think of several,” he murmured.
She clucked her tongue as she effortlessly lifted the straps of her dress from her shoulders. When the shimmering silk garment fell to the floor, Jorem could no longer ignore the half-elf’s otherworldly beauty. Just like the first time he had looked upon “Silhouette,” he was enraptured by her impeccable mix of human and elven features. Her slender figure and plump breasts were flawlessly cradled by scant, silvery lingerie, and she looked right into his eyes as she seductively sank to her knees in front of him.
“I read every tome about the Wyrm Lords I could find in the library of Vel’shannar,” Solemi whispered as her skilled fingers expertly opened his trousers. “The vast breeding harems of the dragons are well known, but many of them also kept pleasure slaves as well. Even the carnal appetites of the modern drow pale in comparison to the Avetharri…”
His manhood was stiff, aching, and ready well before her fingers curled about the thick shaft and pulled it free. She smiled hungrily as the swollen tip throbbed in front of her waiting lips.
“As magnificent as I remembered,” she cooed. “A stem worthy of power and domination—a stem worthy of a dragon.”
Jorem moaned as she delicately dragged her soft, experienced tongue up and then down the length of his shaft. Hopefully, Kaseya had sensed his growing arousal long enough to get somewhere private…
I knew all along that I wouldn’t be able to hide this bargain from the girls forever, but I really didn’t want to argue about it until after the deed was done. Kaseya will accept my decision eventually, but Val…well, she isn’t as easily mollified.
“Do not worry yourself, my lord,” Solemi said, holding her half-open mouth just in front of the tip. The heat of her breath—and the sight of her abasing herself in front of him—sent a shudder of delight rippling through him. “Your amazon will not feel a thing.”
Jorem blinked. “What?”
“Dal’Rethi collars can be suppressed the same as any other work of artifice,” the half-elf replied with a sly grin. “I shielded this room…I knew you would appreciate the privacy.”
Before he could ask her how she had possibly managed such a feat, Solemi parted her lips and swallowed his cock whole. The fiery grip of her throat and tight suction of her mouth were as irresistible as any cunt, and he couldn’t help but close his eyes and clench his jaw. He could have easily let himself go at any moment, and he couldn’t deny that there was a part of him that wanted to quickly pull out and shower her face and tits in a primal, masculine display of dominance. But their bargain wouldn’t be complete until he spilled deep inside her.
Until he bred her.
“Oh…!” Solemi gasped in delight when she finally pulled back, her lips glistening. “Your harem should thank you every day for the chance to worship such a powerful idol.”
Jorem groaned as he rifled the fingers of his right hand through her silver-blond hair. Forget spilling all over her—all of a sudden he wanted to hold her against him, gasping and breathless, as he pumped the seed she so desperately desired right down her fucking throat. He wanted to suffocate her with his cock.
Gods, what is wrong with me? For all I know, she could be inside my head right now. She might want me to spill just to keep me here longer. With her, anything is possible…
“I’m not like the rest of your harem, Wyrm Lord,” Solemi said as she gently kissed his tip again. “I’m not merely the woman kneeling before you—I can be anyone you wish.”
The Aether swirled around her almost like a thick fog, and when Jorem blinked away the haze, he found himself looking down upon a statuesque elven woman with brilliant sapphire eyes, rich golden hair, and a pair of heels so high they made Valuri’s boots look flat.
“Do you remember me, Jorem?” Solemi said in the cultured, commanding voice of the Highwind Academy Headmistress, Telanya. “I will never forget that night when you conquered me in front of my husband…”
“Escar’s mercy,” Jorem breathed, rubbing at his eyes even though he knew it wouldn’t help.
“Or perhaps you prefer something more…familiar,” Solemi said, twisting the Aether and weaving another illusion. Her hair, body, and skin all changed, and a heartbeat later, Jorem was staring down at Kaseya. “So young, so innocent, so eager to please…”
She swallowed his cock again, prompting another uncontrolled gasp of delight. When his hands reflexively squeezed at her red ponytail, he could have sworn that the real Kaseya was eagerly performing her morning ritual.
“She is special, isn’t she?” Solemi asked in Kaseya’s voice but her own intonation, leaning away and dragging her fingertips down past her heaving breasts to her taut, muscled stomach. “I’ve no doubt that you will breed her many times, and she will rightfully thank you for the honor of bearing a Wyrm Lord’s children.”
“That’s enough,” Jorem rasped. “No more games.”
Kaseya—no, Solemi—smiled devilishly. “Perhaps you are weary of the familiar and would prefer something more exotic?”
This time, it was more than just her face that transformed. Her olive skin turned a lustrous dark gray, and her athletic human body shifted to a sleek, sinewy elven frame. Solemi giggled, her painted red lips a stark contrast to her drow visage, as her hair turned white and her eyes became an even brighter luminescent blue.
“The dark elves consider lovemaking a skill worthy of long study like any other,” Solemi said with Varassa’s husky, accented voice. “The techniques I could show you would light a fire in your dreams for centuries…”
She inhaled his manhood yet again, and between the exotic allure of her visage and the furnace that was her mouth, Jorem nearly lost control. Stories about the matriarchal Underworld had pervaded the surface ever since he’d been a boy, and every human man had surely imagined what it would be like to dominate a proud, arrogant dark elven woman.
Or maybe that’s just me. Then again, is there any type of pretty woman I haven’t imagined on her knees? Probably not.
He grabbed a handful of her white hair and forced himself deeper into her throat. He had the satisfaction of hearing her gag on his cock, and if he hadn’t already fucked the girls this afternoon—or pumped a load down Kaseya’s gullet this morning—he surely would have exploded.
Jorem finally had to yank her hair and pull her off to maintain control. Her red lips were soaked, and yet again he couldn’t help but imagine how sexy her gray skin would look covered in thick, gooey ropes of his seed. Apparently, Valuri had rubbed off on him even more than he thought.
“So good,” she said, panting and staring up at him. “But this still isn’t what you really want, is it?”
She chuckled as her visage shifted once more. Her half-elven figure returned, as did her familiar green eyes. Her hair turned short and blond, however, and Jorem knew from descriptions that this must have been what Solemi had looked like years ago before she had been captured by the drow. She was every bit as beautiful but a thousand times more sweet and innocent.
“You want the real me, don’t you?” she asked. “You want a meek little half-elven girl ripe for conquest…”
His right hand, still entangled in her hair, nearly slammed her mouth onto his cock. A surge of primal lust—primal need—crashed over him and washed away the last of his inhibitions. He didn’t just want to fuck her—he wanted to defile every part of her.
Grabbing hold of her slender shoulders, he hoisted her off her knees and flung her onto the bed. She squealed, surprised and delighted all at once, but he didn�
��t give her a chance to recover. After pulling off his trousers and tossing aside his jacket, he lunged on top of her. For a moment, their bodies were one, her breasts pressed against him, her legs along his, his weight pinning her to the bed as their faces hovered mere inches apart.
But instead of shoving her legs apart, he roughly flipped her over onto her stomach. While his right hand pushed her face deep into the pillows, his left smacked her pristine pale ass hard enough to leave a mark. Solemi squealed again, and she eagerly arched her back and presented herself for him like a bitch in heat. Jorem ripped apart her panties, jabbed his swollen stem up to her yearning folds…
And drove into her as hard as he could.
Solemi let out a muffled moan of pure fulfillment, pure ecstasy, as her flesh parted around him and he buried himself to the hilt inside her. Her mixed-blood cunt was every bit as tight and scorching as he remembered. Even before he starting thrusting—even before he saw her hips churning in rhythm with his—he could feel the walls of her quim squeezing and cradling his cock, already trying to milk him of every drop of his draconic seed.
“Take me!” Solemi demanded, her face still muffled by the sheets. “Breed me!”
Jorem growled as he slammed into her with reckless abandon. Their past didn’t matter. What she’d done to him didn’t matter. His blood boiled just like when the draconic ascension had first taken control of him down in the Underworld. He no longer felt like he could control his actions; he had become more of a beast than a man.
No, not a beast—a dragon. The true rulers of this world.
He roared as he smacked her ass again, not with a human hand but with a dragon’s claw. His skin slowly shifted into red scales, and he felt himself growing and growing until his tunic began to rip…