by Marata Eros
Their gaze locks.
“I cannot say what is happening between us. Kael lies rotting in a meadow.” Siana's hand moves to her still-flat belly. “I do not want Titus killed. Though he is Faction, he saved my life. He may also be the father.”
Her eyes flash to the Reapers who draw nearer to Titus.
“Titus of the Faction could have departed at any time and left us to our own devices. He did not,” Marquette says.
Siana notices Marquette glance at Titus.
Siana sees things that cannot happen between them and plows forward before others notice the tender regard the two are developing for each other.
But Maghnus's shrewd gaze moves between Titus and Marquette, noting it as Siana did. “We cannot house a Faction. We are purebred Reapers. We do not abide others.”
Siana sets her teeth at Baird's silence. He would rather have Titus gone for fucking her.
Maghnus gives a signal to the other Reapers, and they circle Titus. He loosens his hands, weaponless.
They move fast.
But not faster than Marquette.
Siana smiles, Marquette's secret unrevealed until now.
Marquette shapeshifts into a bird of prey, a six-feet tall predator of wing and claw.
Black wings unfurl like reverse water, and her shrill cry takes out the eardrums of those who stand close enough to hear the alarm.
Titus crouches, hands to ears, and his blood-red eyes find Marquette. She flies toward him. Only the bluish-green of her eyes remain.
Reapers writhe on the ground, blood leaking out of their ears.
Marquette takes the eyes of those close enough to damage Titus. They fall, sightless.
A great caw erupts as Marquette floats to the ground. Her great ebony head moves forward and back twice as her wings close around her sleek body.
She stands guard in front of Titus.
He touches her feathered body, and her eyes latch onto his.
“Thank you,” he whispers.
Another caw sounds.
Siana looks at a silent Maghnus. “What say you now, leader of the Reapers?”
She strolls toward him, and her eyes meet Marquette’s. Though no smile is visible, Marquette is without mercy as a supreme inky hawk, and her glittering eyes fall on Maghnus.
Marquette caws softly once and blinks slowly at him.
“I think,” he says slowly, “there is much that Jessamine kept secret.”
Siana stands before him. “And that was good. For minutes ago, you were hasty in your dismissal of us as weak females who need protection and should take a fucking as our duty, but not a freedom. Never that.”
Maghnus studies Siana. She allows it. Scrutiny never worries her. Let him look. He will find the steel within her words.
“Now my best warriors lay healing on the floor,” he says. “Their senses compromised by a shape-shifting witch. What else can the Druid females do that we are not privy to?”
Siana looks at the silent remnants of her coven. Their calm eyes regard her wordlessly.
“Much.”
CHAPTER TWENTY
Baird
Baird watches as the shape-shifting Druid changes back to the breeder she was before, and he breathes a sigh of relief.
More humans will lose their pathetic lives to aid the healing of the Reapers’ lost hearing and sight.
The injured Reapers make a wide berth around Marquette. A healthy dose of respect has been gained for a female they thought to rut with.
Yet Baird must concede Titus is brave. He did not hide behind the Druid, in bird form or otherwise. Titus stood strong before the small army of Reapers, knowing his limbs would be torn from his body.
They still might be.
The pile of discarded human corpses grows in the center of the hall they have not even managed to move from.
Baird tries to capture Siana's eyes, but she avoids him. Because he avoided defending the Faction. Baird sees the growing affection between Marquette and Titus and has already dismissed him as a threat to Baird’s claim on Siana.
However, what if he be the father of her offspring? Only Maghnus has the power of discernment over parentage, and not this early.
There will be a time when there is no discernible father to the babe Siana carries.
Baird cannot reconcile sharing her.
Siana's happiness should be primary to Baird. He studies his leader, thinking Maghnusʼ priorities are to breed any Druid female. They all hold the potential for daywalking offspring.
What could daywalking have meant for his brother, Carrig? To travel through the wilderness in broad daylight as Siana could? Instead, Carrig had nearly killed his true mate in a fit of recuperative blood lust.
Renfields fill the hall, dragging off the lifeless humans. The Reapers grow new eyes, their eardrums plumping with life again. All those eyes, like chipped ice, turn to Titus.
Siana says, “Do not think it. You have nine other Druid females within these four walls. Do you really wish to take a chance on what other surprises might be in store?”
Maghnus looks at the small females and sighs, running a hand through his dark hair. His gaze finds Siana. “No. But remember this—you cannot have it both ways. You cannot seek sanctuary with the Reapers and also slay us.”
“Think of it, Siana. We would never keep a group under our protection who hold a surprise threat.” Baird opens his arms then shrugs. He hopes she hears his words and listens.
Bloodshed and tragedy can be avoided, but only if she is willing.
Siana's eyes narrow upon him. “We do seek refuge, but it must be on terms which are equitable to all. Having us as a group of breeding whores will not be enough for us. We were a working coven of practicing sorceresses, as of old.”
Her eyes are slits of scathing disdain upon Baird, and he hates the look she gives him.
Siana moves closer, and Baird watches her approach. He swallows painfully at her nearness, the affect she has on him.
When she is near enough to touch, he does not. Instead, he measures his breaths. Memories of her taste and feel crowd his skull without mercy.
“Thanks to Jessamine, we are without a home and true coven,” Siana continues. “Her suffering gains us nothing. ʼTis true it is justice of a kind, yet it does nothing to strengthen us in our time of need. We need real males. Males who will enter a partnership with us that is more than fucking and breeding. A role to serve both groups.”
Baird cups the side of her face and palms the entirety of it. “You know how I feel for you, Siana.”
She nods inside his hand. “I do know. I know I am a prized possession. Until you show me I am more than the best Druid fuck you have ever had, that I am worth claiming even if I might have another male's child inside me... then I am just another female in your eyes.”
Baird lets his hand fall.
They stare at each other.
Maghnus clears his throat. “I think we have come to a stalemate. Siana and her Druid sisters are tired, with much tragedy and harm avoided by the slimmest of margins.”
The other Reapers remain silent at his words.
“Let us assign quarters and tolerate the Faction—Titus—for the time being. He has proven his merit for a temporary reprieve,” Maghnus says.
“You mean you do not wish for any surprises from the Druids?” Siana asks sweetly.
Baird sighs at her caustic question.
Maghnusʼs eyes narrow. His laughter causes them all to jump. “True, astute breeder.”
Siana misses nothing. “Queen, Maghnus.”
Maghnus bows his head, but Baird sees the simmering anger swimming in his eyes. “Yes, my queen.”
“Do not make fun of me, Reaper.”
Maghnusʼs grin widens as he flattens his palm on his chest. “Who? I—never!”
Baird frowns in contemplation.
Maghnus swings open the door that leads into the deep bowels of the fortress.
Baird watches Siana carefully move forward.
She looks behind her at the other Druid females.
“This is our new home.”
Marquette comes forward, paces ahead of Titus.
“For now?” she asks, eyebrow cocked.
Siana nods.
She answers Marquette but her words are all for Baird.
“Yes, for now.”
*
Altho
Altho turns away from the three potions steeping in their various cauldrons.
He moves to the shelves that hold runes of various elements and plucks several from their locations.
Runes of protection. Indifference.
He needs every bit of self-restraint he can manage.
As it is, he cannot get thoughts of the lovely Druid out of his mind. The feel of her lush body beneath his as he pumps inside her. Even after the spray of seed departed his body, his prick remained semi-hard, as though his ever-faithful appendage was aware it had not partaken of her flesh.
Altho is not oblivious to Seraphina’s wiles. Her magick is firmly entrenched in the succulent pussy that calls to him.
Thoughts of Seraphina crowd him.
Altho unties his robe and flings it off. His breeches are next. He unlaces them.
He must relieve himself of the terrible burden living with Seraphina has caused.
As is true of his female counterpart, Siana, his palms are self-lubricating. Though he is not a vampire, his Druid lineage bestow him some traits that are most convenient.
His throbbing prick weeps for his hand, and he takes it. He pumps with rough abandon down the length of his shaft and sighs in pleasure. It has not been long since he took the breeder, yet without his flesh married with hers, it is not sufficient to completely drain him.
To have her, yet not? It is a torturous tease.
Legs spread, Altho's hand rams down to the root of his prick, and he shudders, reaching that line of pain and release and balancing precariously on the chasm of blessed relief. He is at his most vulnerable when the door slams open, and Seraphina stalks inside.
Seraphina takes in his naked form, his throbbing prick in his hand.
She launches herself at Altho.
He reacts instinctively, catching her.
Altho has only seconds to notice she wears nothing from the waist down.
Her naked thighs cinch around his waist.
Altho's face is tight with longing and anguish.
Hers is alight with triumph.
Altho’s hands remain on her naked ass even as he moves to avoid her. But his prick has a mind of its own, and it seeks her entrance like a homing device of wet, hot, needy flesh.
With a downward grunt, she impales herself on Altho.
For a moment, he cannot breathe for the sensation of her bare and surrounding him.
Altho's eyes open. He takes in her small body all around his, her head thrown back in ecstasy, and he moves against his own terms, volition and caution eschewed in favor of acute lust.
Even knowing she will own him, he pumps in her cunt with abandon.
Seraphina spreads wider, pushing her hips forward, and Altho's mouth hangs agape.
Everything is lost when his seed explodes deeply inside her.
“I have you, sorcerer,” she whispers.
At that moment, with her milking his dick inside her slick wetness, his wards tremble, alerting Altho to intruders.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Siana
Siana knows Maghnus has a love-hate relationship with her at present. He wishes to have the ten Druid females under his thumb.
After all, they were promised to him by Jessamine. That is all the justification Maghnus needs.
The rut Imogen shared with Baird, Carrig, and Quinn assured the Reapers she now beds down with total breeding rights.
Then everything falls apart.
Instead of a group of docile breeders who would pump out daywalking babies, the Reapers have breeders with undisclosed talents.
Siana's lips curl.
Maghnus is accustomed to getting his way.
She admires his form as he strides confidently in front of her. One by one, solid wood doors are opened, and the breeders enter their new quarters. Siana is briefly disturbed that none of those doors are oak, the greatest protective wood to be found. She asks Maghnus about it.
“If the enemy is as deep as the personal chambers of my Reaper warriors, all is lost. The bridge and main gateway are solid oak.” Maghnus lifts a finger. “And that is strictly precautionary. We are Druid in our lineage, and some of the ancient rites of protection linger in our daily lives, but not all.”
Siana is glad to hear what is most important—oak as the greatest ward—remains in place. Though she would have been even happier had every scrap of wood in the place been oak. When she and her sister Druids determined spells of warding, the oak would be a conduit. Now only the front door would be a shield against invasion. Siana does not like how little of the old magick Maghnus employs. It does not seem prudent.
“That is fine for physical invasion, but what of magical?” Siana asks as he pushes open the last door. A small room greets her.
“Locally? With the exception of Altho, we are not under any siege of magick strong enough to enter herein.”
Siana is still troubled. What she would not give to reinstate her temple. The entire structure could be re-warded, every crevice made of natural elements which could hold magick, carry it.
But now it lays abandoned, taken over by the true undead. The location is known by every wandering criminal of the land.
Siana sighs.
“What is it?” Maghnus asks.
Siana wonders if she can truly trust his motives. He wants to fuck and breed the Druids more than kill them, yet that assurance is weak. She inhales deeply, deciding upon a course of engagement.
“Our former temple is fraught with zombies, our cousins.”
“You made me aware.” His deep eyes meet hers. “Their assault was something you barely escaped.”
Siana nods.
“To strengthen the protection here, we need to ward the perimeter against such things.”
Maghnus smiles. It is full of condescension, and she wants to slap the look off his face.
“Zombies cannot survive the moat, my queen.”
He says queen with a lilt, as though mocking her title.
“It is one of only several possibilities.” She levels a glance at him. “We were completely protected within the borders of our former temple.”
His eyes slim down upon her. “Did not your former leader take care of that?”
Siana frowns. “Yes. Yet she is gone, and we must do what we can in her absence.”
“Perhaps we will see her return to here, with her zombie consorts of course. She can ward our fortress, and your fears shall be alleviated.”
Siana shakes her head. “No. She is insane. And made more so by her present environment, I'm certain.”
Maghnus taps his chin. “I think she will do what we ask.”
“Yes”—Siana bobs her head—“for a price. Everything is always a cost with Jessamine. And normally, it is more than anyone would wish to pay.”
“So be it,” Maghnus says. “In the meantime, enjoy your chamber. It is one of the only with an en suite bath.”
Siana makes a fatal mistake. She walks past him in a mix of surprise and delight, thrilled at the prospect of bathing.
Maghnus is behind her instantly, slamming her into the wall face-first.
Siana’s head hits the stone, and stars burst in her vision.
“Queen,” he breathes against her neck.
Maghnus kicks her legs apart and splits her ass cheeks with his prick, rolling the hard length between them.
Siana's arms shake with the effort to keep herself off the wall.
“Get off me,” Siana says in a low voice, desperately trying to clear her head.
“Ah...” He hikes his hips up, rubbing himself between her ass like a parody of fucking in a
slow pump. “No. We are alone, and I intend to fuck you. You need male attention. You also need to be underneath me. No female will have control of my holding. You will be under me, and fuck me when I ask. As will every Druid within.”
Siana tears one palm off the wall and rams her elbow behind her.
Maghnus makes a wonderful grunting sound upon impact, but he grabs the wrist that was just broken and jacks it between her shoulder blades.
He gently presses her face against the stone wall.
“Settle, female,” he says softly. “I mean you no harm. I but need to see what all the fuss is about. That four males would fuck your twat in a matter of a day's time is something to cause a male's mind to speculate.”
Siana struggles, but his knees hold hers spread against the wall, her one arm is trapped between the stone and her body, the other is useless between her shoulder blades.
Maghnus’s other hand grabs her ass and kneads it softly, his cock never ceasing its slow pump between her cheeks.
Slowly, he parts the folds of her pussy with his cock, teasing her clit.
Siana fights for control. She is being taken against her will, yet she is Druid. Her pussy begins to drip from his attentions.
“That is it, my reluctant Druid.”
She gasps when his fingers enter her.
“No!” Siana cries, fighting her Druid nature with her own free will.
“Yes!” Maghnus shouts.
Suddenly, his weight lifts off her, and she is free. Free of the wall, his cock, and his probing fingers. Without the attention, her will easily reasserts.
She hears flesh being beaten, and her arm falls from behind her back. Pins and needles pierce her as circulation returns.
She rolls around to face the room instead of the wall.
Baird stands, a sword in one hand and Maghnus’s head in the other.
“No one shall have you but me.”
Siana's heart bursts. This male who seeks no one's council but his own, who is as uncompromising as he is beautiful, has killed his leader for attempting to take her by force.
“Baird,” Siana whispers, her shaking hands covering her face.
The sound of sword and head falling to the floor fills her ears.
Then his warm body envelops hers.