“It is when one spreads the entrails of his victim across the gleaming walls of the senate.”
If Renegade was put off by such a claim, she didn’t show it. Merely turned her gaze back at him and licked at his cheek bone, then squirmed free of his burly arms. Sauntering away, to the various scattered belongings of the males bowing before her mate. She didn’t return until she’d found a water skin.
Giaus raised a single brow, head drifting to the side. Displeased with her interruption, yet willing to give her the benefit of his mercy—a gift no other had ever claimed.
“To wash you, my Alpha. I ache,” she breathed, reaching between her legs to bury three fingers between those puffy lips.
“Then take my knot,” he returned, fisting his prick. Aiming the weeping slit toward her mouth.
The daring little thing had the gall to shake her head. Denying him. “No.”
Giaus reeled back, fury rippling beneath his muscles. The males flinching away from the massive Feral Alpha.
“Please, my Alpha. Giaus,” she murmured, purring. Beseeching with those black eyes. “I cannot take you with Balkazar’s ass still wet on your dick. It would risk infection.”
Her plea broke through the urge to dominate, cleansing him with the very real threat to the developing litter he’d pumped into her womb. Nodding, he allowed her to pour a gentle stream of clean water over his member. Washing his sack and balls as attentively as she did his cock. Jerking him off as she worked. Playing with his flared mushroom head as much as she kneaded the bloated girth of his knot. Licking, when he was sufficiently clean, at the drop of precum beading at his slit.
“I’ve been like you,” he continued, lazy now. Letting his Renegade turn, present her ass, and guide his helm toward her pussy. “My tail was lobbed off at the base before I was thrown from the city walls. Just like you. Forced to traverse the river of magma, and had to survive without pack or safety. It wasn’t one lunar cycle before I was infected,” he said, watching Renegade work. Watching her shimmy and dance as she teased his tip. “Drunk with a killing fever, I wandered with the ghosts of the ancients. Delirious as the Trax took root.”
When she mewled and pushed back, Giaus swallowed his groan. Knowing his female was still enthralled to her Canicule, in spite of the breeding efforts he’d put forth. But when she sank over his dick and placed her slender hands on the Omega male’s shoulders, he allowed himself another brief pause. Enthralled as he watched her, as she used Sickle as a brace while she rode her Alpha’s pole.
“But before the moons had risen again, I was changed,” Giaus said, voice steady, in spite of the tension gathering in his sack. The urge to take her full hips in his palms and fuck into the pussy he’d remade as his. “Where the killing fever might have seen another, lesser male waste away, I awoke in a new body. Taller. Stronger. Bigger. Skin stained with the Trax, yes, but it was not the virus of old. I mastered that infection, and within my body it became something more. Mutated.”
The Omega squealed, reaching for Sickle. Dragging the dainty Omega male toward her as she shunted over Giaus’ thick prick. Guiding Sickle’s lips to land on her swollen clitty without permission. Taking liberties with another male right in front of him. But Sickle was Omega first, and out here in the beyond, in this fledgling kingdom Giaus intended to raise from the fires, Omegas were to be protected. Cherished, even if they were used. Bred and fucked as often and as hard as he’d like.
Cherished. Always.
And so he allowed it. Chest vibrating with the mangled thing he called a purr as Sickle drank of Canicule and sperm both. Distracted from his preaching by the tongue that dared to slip… lower. Whispering along his sack.
“Each of you will be given the gift of this new Trax. Each of you will fall to the killing fever, only to rise again. Changed.”
“And if we refuse?” Silver asked, as if the answer wasn’t painfully obvious.
Giaus grinned, succumbed to the tug and pull his mate’s cunt, and snarled. Buried himself hard, tail lashing. Battering at her roof without forcing her cervix to bloom, only to feel her come apart on his knob. Knowing just how it rankled the other Alpha, whose defiant fires still burned. “Death,” he said at length, fucking Renegade through her orgasm. “There is no place for weakness in my Kingdom. Submit or die.”
Chapter 16
For a few long breaths, the only sounds were those Giaus forced from his mate’s lungs. That, and the squelching slap of his flesh against hers. The little squeaks and gasps that made his nuts tighten with the need to fill her again, and again, and again, even as they swung forward and bounced off Sickle’s chin. With the little Omega male suckling at Renegade’s clit, it was only a matter of time before his flicking tongue would catch a glob of cream. Only a few more punishing thrusts before Sickle would taste that spermy overflow laced with slick.
He’d be the first, his Omega male. The first male to taste his seed and drink the Trax…
But he wouldn’t be the last.
Not a sound came from the others watching on. The males who would form the ring of his Generals—subordinate only to him—should they bend and offer their necks. If not…
Giaus slapped his mate’s rounded ass cheeks, marveling that a woman, an Omega no less, could thrive in the beyond. That she’d wandered for so long without the journey showing on her skin. Thick, full bottom. Muscular thighs reaching toward a trim waist, knotted with tension. Absent the poke of bones through skin that would speak of a female willing to do anything for a meager bite of food.
Not her. Not his Renegade.
“Hear me,” he chuffed, layering his command with that ancient decree. “Submit, and know reward beyond your wildest imagination.”
He didn’t bother to tell them what might happen should they rebel.
There wasn’t a need. Not with their lead Alpha kneeling without having even lost this fight, and their second leaking a copious river of Feral cum.
Giaus spread his mighty thighs, letting his sack swing with more oomph as it bounced off Sickle’s chin. Reaching around Renegade’s hip, only to wind his fingers through the other male’s sandy brown hair. To press him lower, forced to abandon the twitching bean he’d been sucking, he had his Omega male tongue the spot where his cock spread creamy cunt.
Panting now, a gust of air burst from his lips. His nuts drew taught as he overlooked the pack he’d claim as his own. The gathered males too weak to take their female back, yet smart enough—down to the man—to take what was offered. Willingly infecting themselves with the Trax.
When he came, it was with a mighty roar. Burying himself without piercing her cervix, he gushed. Taint kicking rope after rope of seed into those soiled walls, he fed Sickle first. Claimed that Omega male who’d abandoned the twitching puss in favor of pulsing dick. Slurping and lapping at the overflowing cum. Drinking and purring against Giaus’ slick-soaked prick.
Snarling, Giaus pulled the little male away, buried his teeth at Renegade’s nape once more, and walked her toward the males awaiting their fate. Hooking his right arm beneath her thigh, Giaus spread his female. Presenting her cunt to the dark-skinned Beta who’d fought so bravely. Who’d become defender of this new pack. A place of honor.
To his credit, the dark one dove toward the flood of slick and sperm. Sucking her to a fresh round of quaking orgasm, purring against pussy and shaft, both.
Next, he moved to the Alpha whose asshole was stretched and defiled. The male with knot and cock exposed. Dribbling all over the forest floor in long strings of denied want. Dripping with the need to find release. Yet he too, was rewarded. Would be seated as his Second, for the gift of submission. As if already enslaved, Balkazar mimicked the males who’d gone before him. Filling his mouth with slick and cum. Eyes rolling closed on a powerful Alpha purr, cock spurting in tiny micro bursts, he sprayed Renegade’s knee, even as her true mate continued to fill her.
Daring, as all Alphas were, he felt Balkazar reach for him. Felt r
ough fingers cup his sack and tease the bridge of his taint. Creeping toward his anus…
Giaus began to fuck his mate anew, allowing this curious adventure. Letting that Alpha pierce his ass with the very tip of his finger. Stimulated that tight ring of muscle saw his knot bloat with impossible speed, hissing, clenching on that burrowing digit. But now was not the time for such things, and he snarled, releasing his claiming bite and shoving the other male to the dirt. To cower in a pool of his own dripping precum.
He moved through them all. Each lapping tongue drawing another gushing, spermy rope into the depths of his Omega. Sending the female drunk on Canicule into orgasm after orgasm. Until she couldn’t speak or see or do anything except clutch and mewl. Grunting as she took what he had to give. Hips rocking back to meet his every thrust.
When at last he came to the Alpha called Silver, it was with a sinister glint in his eye. He pulled back from Renegade’s pussy, letting her slide to his feet as his sperm gushed from abused hole. Watched, for a moment, as the other males—with eyes Canicule-black—dove for her. Fighting over the whipped cum topping the delicate patch of dark curls. Drinking what their Alpha gave as gift, for no matter their sexual orientation, this was ancient ritual.
This was the rut.
Silver’s good eye showed that he was still taken by her Canicule. Still glowed with a ring of green surrounding black, while the other was fixed. Blind and streaked with silver. But he was not enthralled as the others were. Defiance still glimmered in that one good eye. And hateful, murderous rage.
Grinning, Giaus milked his knot. Kneaded turgid flesh and took measured steps toward the other Alpha. “You’re going to take my gift straight from the source,” he growled. Feeling a spurt of heated sperm rush through the length of his shaft. Aiming it toward Silver’s scowling face. Painting it across his brow with tail lashing proudly. Hackles raised, and tail stiff. Dominant. Utterly superior. “Open.”
For a moment, he wasn’t sure the other would do it. Wasn’t sure if he’d have to force his meat down the Alpha’s throat and mark him as he’d done with his Omega. But Silver’s gaze flicked to what had once been his pack, landed on the writhing twist of male flesh licking Renegade clean, and returned to the cock pointed at his lips. Inspecting the angry red tip with distaste… and… something more. Something that whispered of depraved curiosity.
And then his lips parted.
Giaus didn’t waste another moment. Hooked his free thumb behind the other male’s teeth and fisted his cock. Sent jet after jet of scalding semen to pool in Silver’s mouth. The sight of an Alpha male so degraded made his pleasure all the more tail-bending—it was all he could do not to set the tip inside Silver’s mouth and fuck that throat as his orgasm wound down.
But this wasn’t about pleasure, or so he kept reminding himself. It was about dominating the other males, and through that dominion, infecting them with Trax. Remaking them in his own image. Forever marked by Giaus, first of his name.
King beyond the Krust.
And mark them he did.
Chapter 17
Blissful agony. It rippled through Renegade’s body. Starting from the tingling ache in her over-worked pussy, creeping out. To every soiled centimeter she’d never known to think about. Twitching, orgasmic bliss laced with lapping tongues, twisting fingers, and the panting mouths of her pack.
Almost too much, even for her.
She stretched, setting delicate palms to the nearest chest. A Beta male whose face she couldn’t see, and whose name she couldn’t remember. Not now, while she lay twitching on the forest floor in a pool of her own fluids and theirs. With her Canicule rising with the moons. All three of those lunar lenses watched on. Bathing she and her pack in soft, white light and an ease of being she’d never known before.
Some part of her knew not to trust it. Some part of her that had spent years beyond the Krust scraping for every necessity, couldn’t abide the notion of sleeping beside so many males, each with the strength to crush her should they find themselves lost to a killing rage. All but perhaps little Sickle, whose mousy hair was tucked tight beneath her chin, and whose honey-suckle eyes gazed up at her with an emotion she couldn’t name.
Teeth flashing, she pushed him away. Pushed them all away.
This wasn’t for her. This… ocean of throbbing dicks and messy goodbyes. It had never been her.
She stood. Wobbling on legs she couldn’t quite seem to control. Dizzy.
“I feel your disquiet,” her Alpha rumbled. Giaus. That infected Feral whose golden eyes still watched her every movement. His fingers still kneading his massive prick as he turned from his latest conquest. Silver, the Alpha with one eye, who’d claimed her first, but not deep enough. Even now, she could feel that his claim—and Balkazar’s—had faded. Overcome by the Feral who shouldn’t have been.
Licking his lips, Silver’s tail would have been tucked neatly between his legs, had he still a tail to display unspoken emotion. Renegade might have shucked everything to do with traditional pack life, but she knew enough of science to know the Trax wasn’t communicated by semen, exclusively. Any bodily fluid would have sufficed. That Giaus had demanded they drink from his cock wasn’t about creating an infected pack, so much as it was about ensuring every male he’d claimed knew who to bend the neck for. Remembered the taste of their Alpha’s cum on their lips, and therefore couldn’t pretend their submission had been taken.
“Omega,” Giaus purred, rattling and broken. Feral eyes glowing with what she could only assume was lust.
And she felt it too, bunching and clinging to her insides, no matter how many times she’d cum nor how many times she’d been speared on a thick dick. She felt it. That was the curse of the Omega. Canicule.
Chewing at her lip, Renegade stumbled another few steps toward him before giving up. Before tumbling toward the sodden earth, only to find herself swept up. Cradled in Giaus’ massive arms. Pressed to his rumbling, scalding hot chest.
“Precious mate,” he purred, making her gush, even though her skin ached. Kidneys sending dull little stabs through her lower back. “It’s the killing fever.”
She mewled, seemingly unable to form words, though a hot wave of panic sliced through her. Making her eyes bulge and her fingers twist in his matted mane.
“You’ve been well-seeded with the Trax,” he said. Matter of fact. “Sleep now. When you wake, it will be with new eyes. The gifts I shall bestow upon you have only just begun,” he added, and planted one large palm over her bellybutton. Fingers splayed. Toying with her lowest two nipples. But it was the subtle reminder of what he’d planted within her that forced her eyes to remain open.
Even as the killing fever spread, and her very core began to tremble with sickness, Renegade persisted. Delirious. Watching as the order was given to gather their meager belongings and move. Back to the very clearing she’d chosen at the onset of her Canicule, where they could defend their Omegas and sleep through the coming illness. Together. As packs did.
“Not you,” Giaus said, speaking to Silver. “You’re not welcome in my pack until you’ve returned with the items I need. Go,” he said, and sent the other Alpha away. Sprinting through the underbrush in the opposite direction in which they now walked.
Squirming, Renegade tried to go with him. To escape. Tried to flee those comforting arms, choking on the need to find a quiet place and lick her wounds in private. To either die alone or survive if she were strong enough.
Giaus squashed her closer, growling low and menacing at the back of his throat. Little Sickle marching at his heel, his fingers clasped around her ankle as he tagged along in their wake.
Renegade kicked out, returning that growl, though it wasn’t a match to the pitch or tone of her accursed Feral mate, it was hers.
“Shall I fuck you as we walk?” he asked, shifting, spreading her ass with the arm that supported her back so he might set two thick fingers to play at her weeping gate. Squelching in the slow trickle of f
luids the others had failed to lick away.
The contact was wanted and abhorred all at once. Made her slick flow even as her spine twisted against the over stimulation. As the killing fever wound through her blood and bone. Hurting. Remaking.
“Shall I call a halt to this march and take you here, in the dirt, before the pack? Shall I remind you who’s property you are, mate?”
She shook her head. Tears spilling over her lashes, nuzzling at his pectoral, Renegade tried to purr. Tried to do anything but mewl and whine as the Trax spread.
“Then say it. Tell them whose kits you carry.”
The name rasped over broken glass and dry winds. Incomprehensible. Mangled by the Trax, yet the compulsion remained. Would not abate until she forced a reedy, “Giaus,” through her chattering teeth. Until it was the only word she could actually say. As if the clattering of her teeth chanted it, over and over and over, until she walked with living ghosts who whispered the name of the King beyond the wall. Chasing her into the release of dreamless slumber.
And yet, her final thought was one of defiance, for she was Renegade first, and she would be a Queen. A Queen with many soldiers and a fierce mate. A Queen who’d send those loyal servants to do her bidding. To gather sweet meats, jewels, or new blood, a Queen.
After all, what use had she of one, when there were so many to be claimed?
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