Aristos trailed a series of playful nips and sinful kisses along the searing hot skin of my throat, working his way down until my hardened nipple was once again clutched between his teeth, his tongue soothing away the erotic tinge of pain. Again!
The unrelenting pace at which he was hammering into me had me struggling to remember my own name. My back smacked hard against the stone slab buried beneath the thick pile of furs with each powerful thrust. The sensation of a thousand tongues lapping and sucking at us both while my tight sheath fisted his massive cock had my eyes rolling back in my head. Oh Goddess! I… I did… I did nothing wrong!
The moment my body started to break apart Aristos reached his own climax, the jets of warm sperm filling me up inside as I thrashed around beneath him like a crazy person. When the last of my tremors finally subsided he lifted me up and settled us both in the pile of furs beneath the netting. I curled into his side, assuming my usual sleeping position with my head resting on the arm draped around my shoulders.
After spending the last two weeks sleeping alone in our nursery it felt damn good to be sharing a bed with him again. I should have opened up to you sooner, Ris. I suck at sharing my feelings. Sometimes I wish I was more girly.
I felt his chest rumble beneath my forehead. The sound of his familiar high-pitched chirpy laugh was medicine for my soul. Aristos’s arm squeezed me tighter against his side as he kissed the top of my head. I’ll take bad-ass warrior female over girly any day. Just know I’m always here for you, Cami. You’re my compar. There’s nothing you could ever do to make me stop loving you.
Even though I’m a whale? I ran my hands over my volleyball-sized belly to emphasize my point. I’d gotten so big in the last few weeks with Damille’s high calorie diet and the baby’s rapid growth it was the only part of me that even touched his side. And I was barely past the half-way point.
Aristos rolled me over onto my back without even bothering to respond and slid down so he could kiss my belly and rub it with his hands like he expected a genie to pop out at any second and grant him three wishes. How’s my little princess? Is mama giving you enough to eat?
She’d been responsive to my voice for over a week now but had yet to react to Aristos or my sisters’ attempts to communicate with her in any obvious way. For the first time Vanessa responded, giving me three sharp kicks to the kidneys and a nice uppercut to my liver. She knew her daddy, all right.
The astonished look on his awed face was absolutely priceless. He pressed my hand firmly against his cheek as he kissed my belly over and over again. Did you feel that, babe? Vanessa heard me. She knows who I am!
Yeah, I felt it, buddy. I couldn’t help but return his infectious smile in spite of my discomfort. Regardless of how happy you were to be pregnant, having your internal organs beat on like they were drums at a Metallica concert wasn’t all that pleasurable. And now I had to pee. Again.
Armiele opened our door and ducked her head into our room, no doubt having waited until after our wild makeup sex to interrupt. Regardless of how late we were for the council meeting she wouldn’t have let that interfere with our reconciliation. The king himself would have been turned away from our door. I’d never seen her look happier than the moment her eyes settled on us cuddling in bed. I apologize for barging in, my queen and prince, but the council meeting is due to start. I informed our king that Camithia was feeling nauseous and needed to eat something to settle her stomach. That should buy us enough time to get you ready.
I would’ve been more than content spending the rest of the day in bed with Aristos, but our first coordinated fake-birth attack on the griffins was only a week away and we still had quite a few details to work out. Not to mention the motion I’d be presenting to free Naome and Serienne from their commitments so they could live out their lives in Halon’s Gate. I gave Aristos a kiss before slipping out from beneath him and swimming over to where she waited for me. Thanks, Avia. I’m all yours.
*******
After greeting the king with a formal bow, Aristos and I took our places at the Syreni-shaped granite table. With Lanipas and Bulrigaard’s deaths, the seats for the Ceraspian Mountain and South Central Region generals sat empty, leaving us with only seven voting members. Once our baby was born, Aristos and Taleoek would be traveling around Teresolee to evaluate all of the commanders and determine who would be promoted to fill the vacancies. I dreaded the thought of being apart from him for such an extended period of time while I tried to raise our daughter on my own, but I was trying to stay focused on the more immanent task of ensuring Vanessa was safely brought into the world.
Given the need for secrecy with us planning an attack, it wasn’t surprising to see the galleries remained empty. Each of the council members received the Queen’s Greeting, my heavily weighted hands held up to my face in prayer—gods forbid the set of gaudy ass rings I liked about as much as a malignant brain tumor would’ve been lost during my abduction—with my forehead brushing my fingertips and my chin touching my thumbs. If they held any animosity toward me or Aristos over the events that had transpired since my kidnapping they were certainly disguising it well. They seemed genuinely relieved to have their queen back on the throne.
Before we discuss the details of our upcoming attack on the griffins, I understand our queen has a motion to present to the council, King Celandor said, opening the meeting and turning the floor over to me. He’d left his dark navy robes unbound in the front, providing a rather picturesque view of his herculean chest. How he managed to maintain such a jaw-dropping physique at his advanced age was beyond me.
I gracefully bowed, holding the position until he released me. Thank you, my king. Given the treacherous events that Bulrigaard and Lanipas orchestrated as part of their plot to seize the throne, I move to rescind the previous agreement binding my sisters to their regions and requiring them to bear the young of their generals. As princesses of Teresolee, and the adopted daughters of our gods, they should be free to decide for themselves where they want to live, and while it’s important they continually produce offspring, it should be their choice whose children they wish to bear. Lastly, I ask that any of our younger infertile women who are interested be allowed to openly court my sisters and to mate with them should their souls desire such a union. I understand the importance of not allowing any male to be intimate with them, as we can’t risk having them give birth to hybrid children, but I see no need to deny them companionship that imposes no such risk. If anything, ensuring they are sexually content and happy will reduce the chance of them resorting to forbidden acts to satisfy their basic physical needs.
Celandor’s silver tail cut through the water as he turned toward me. I’d never seen him wear his long ashen hair pulled up in a high ponytail before. There didn’t seem to be any concept of a feminine hairstyle among the Syreni. Not that I had any options with the tiny bit of burgundy stubble that had just started to grow in. Would your sisters even be interested in such a union?
Wasn’t that the million dollar question? It had been over a month since Aristos and I had spoken with Armiele and I still hadn’t built up the nerve to broach the subject with them. I think I can get them to be interested with some encouragement from me and my compar and the help of my fellow priestesses on Mt. Olympus.
His noncommittal shrug wasn’t exactly a ringing vote of confidence, but he didn’t appear to be opposed to the idea, either. I see no reason for that part of your motion to require a vote. If you find your sisters receptive to the idea, notice will be sent to our most eligible females all across Teresolee that they are free to court our princesses. Should they be fortunate enough to find their compars I’ll perform the bonding ceremonies myself.
I dropped into another formal bow, raising my tail even higher above my head. Even in my inverted position, the discreet hooks Armiele had crafted to loop behind my ears kept my crown securely in place. Thank you, my king.
As for the rest of your motion, does the council have any questions before I open it up for a vote?
Very well, Celandor said. The glint in his pale green eyes conveyed how pleased he was to receive such staunch support. All those in favor of our queen’s proposal, say yay.
All seven of us responded.
The motion passes. Princess Naome and Princess Serienne are free to live wherever they wish for the remainder of their lives, and to bear the young of whichever Syreni male and female they choose. Let’s move on to the focus of this evening’s council meeting. Prince Aristos, which birthing chamber are you proposing we use for the staged birth?
Aristos tapped the glass pane lying on top of the table, causing a pre-drawn map of the regions of Teresolee to light up as if he’d turned on an iPad. It was the same technology as the tablet I’d used to communicate before I’d mastered telepathic speech only on a much broader scale. After looking over the map to ensure it was accurate he dipped a stone handled brush into one of the tiny shells filled with plankton that lined the edge of the glass and placed an X near the northeastern boundary of our region, just south of the ice sheet. Salacia’s Bounty. Its location on the northeastern edge of our region, just south of the ice sheet and far away from the griffin birthing grounds, will make it difficult for them to send reinforcements, and the close proximity to the Ceraspian Mountains will provide the necessary cover for our raptor allies as they approach.
That’s far closer to Sharia’s Pass than it is Iron Cove, General Gherian, General Sheriolac commented, referring to the capitals of Gherian’s East Arctic Region and his own Western Region. His long amethyst braids dangled across the table as he marked both of the capitals on the map. It would make more sense to stage all of our troops in the temporary camps you’ve been constructing outside your city rather than dividing our forces as we’d planned. Can you accommodate another ten thousand soldiers?
General Gherian swept back the silver-trimmed black cloak he wore over his armor that marked him as a member of The Order—the group charged with overseeing the Ascension trials I hoped to pass after Vanessa was born—and drew seven equal-sized circles along Sharia’s Pass’s western boundary. Each of our temporary camps was designed to hold up to five thousand troops. I’ve already got close to twenty-eight thousand stationed there and expect to add at least five thousand more by next week. It will be tight.
We’ve got seventy-two thousand troops on hand with a capacity of eighty thousand. We can handle the rest. Aristos added our own temporary encampments to the map that had gone up almost overnight outside of Halon’s Gate.
King Celandor turned his attention to Quinn, who appeared to be doing some quick math on the section of the glass in front of him, his shaggy red brows furrowed together in thought. How are you coming on the extra armor and weapons, General Quinn? Over a thousand of our men alone are ill-equipped. Will you be ready by next week or do we need to delay our plans?
Whatever answer he’d reached seemed to displease him. He angrily tapped the screen to get the plankton to return to their shells. We could use another three months, to be honest, but our queen will be delivering Princess Vanessa by then. We’ll find a way, even if it means working in shifts around the clock.
The king nodded his approval. Very well. Commander Taleoek, walk us through the battle plan, starting with the measures being taken to protect our queen.
Taleoek took the brush from Aristos and dipped it into the shell closest to him before leaning over the section of the map containing the Salacia’s Bounty birthing chamber, drawing seven tiny stick figures inside. Queen Camithia will be positioned on the birthing platform dressed in her full battle armor and armed with a stockpile of weapons, all of which she has been extensively trained on. She also has her Goddess sight, which will allow her to see what’s happening across the entire battlefield and communicate the critical intel to our warriors. Her Royal Guard will be stationed with her inside the birthing chamber along with me and Prince Aristos. Having only six visible guards is consistent with the stealth approach we favored the last couple decades and shouldn’t raise any suspicion. A hundred of our most elite troops will be kept on standby stationed beneath the chamber along the sea floor with the sole purpose of protecting our queen and covering her escape when the time comes for her to leave. Given the depth of the water, there is little risk they’ll be spotted.
Taleoek dipped his brush again and added a circle of equally artistic stick figures around the chamber and what I was guessing were supposed to be raptors to the east of the mountains along with arrows showing our Syreni army closing in from the south and east. When the first griffins approach, fifty soldiers will emerge from beneath the water and completely surround the chamber. Again, a response that is consistent with what the griffins will be expecting based on our past behavior. Once they confirm Camithia is pregnant—we believe by smelling her pheromones in the air—their scouts should flee the area and rally their army for a full scale attack. Legions of our Raptor allies will be waiting, cloaked beneath the cover of the mountain peaks, along with a hundred-and-twenty-thousand of our troops to hem in their reinforcements and kill them all, five thousand or more if we’re lucky. The moment the trap is sprung, Camithia, our prince and her Royal Guard will exit the birthing chamber and head for the safety of the sea floor. From there our queen will continue to utilize her Goddess sight to aid in our battle, keeping me and the raptor king Genevolet abreast of any critical developments.
After giving everyone a chance to ask any remaining questions, the king placed a firm hand on Aristos’s shoulder, the compassionate look on his grim face conveying the tragic history they shared without having to say a word. I was wrong to blame you for my daughter’s death. If you’d obeyed my command to force her beneath the surface, she would have despised us both and become a hollow shell of herself. There’s no doubt your new compar is just as brave and headstrong as Pulchra was, if not worse. When the time comes for our warrior queen to give birth, I fear the gods themselves wouldn’t be able to convince her to sacrifice Vanessa, even if it meant saving the entire Syreni race. But this is not that time. The well thought out battle plan you’ve put together makes me confident you are ready to command our armies as king. Show me you possess the common sense you’ll need to wear the crown as well. Regardless of what happens out there, or how badly things go, do not let Camithia get physically involved. If I find out a griffin got within fifty yards of our queen—during a staged birth where she is nothing but a decoy—I’ll whip you both for your wanton stupidity.
Well, hell. Talk about a killjoy. I might as well wear my fucking jewelry to the battle. And what was with him talking to my compar like I wasn’t even here, threatening him to keep me on my leash? I had to bite the inside of my cheek hard enough to draw blood just to keep from lobbing some snarky comeback that would have me missing out on the battle altogether in favor of one of my sisters. Thank the gods Aristos didn’t have his caveman mentality. We’d be at each other’s throats constantly.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
War
* * *
“Do you see anything, Cami
?” Aristos asked—for what had to be at least the thousandth time—the moment I resurfaced at the base of the birthing platform after catching my breath.
Gods bless my compar, if the griffins didn’t show up soon he was going to drive me insane. It was like riding on a cross-country trip with a five year old, having to endure their constant barrage of “are we there yet” whining. Nonetheless, I focused my Goddess sight on the first of the scouts we had hidden around the twenty mile perimeter, using the anchor point to scan the horizon for any sign of activity. If he’d seen anything, I was certain the soldier would have sounded the alert through the telepathic communication network we’d established across the battlefield, but I suppose it didn’t hurt to have another set of eyes check things out just to be sure. It wasn’t like I had anything better to do. Besides, my back was killing me from laying on the stone birthing platform in full battle armor since the crack of dawn. Remaining submerged in the almost arctic water at the northeastern edge of our region for a while so I could do some reconnaissance sounded downright refreshing.
My vantage point wasn’t limited to a static view of the scene. “Panning the camera” required me to focus solely on one visual input stream rather than scanning across all of the viewpoints simultaneously feeding into my brain. It took far more time to cover the entire perimeter with the more methodical approach, but it was the only way for me to do more than just glance at our own soldiers, which wasn’t that helpful given what I was trying to accomplish. I was about to move on from the fourth sentry located dead south of our position when three long shadows skipped across the water beneath the early afternoon sun. I shifted my view higher just in time to see the three griffins pass overhead.
“Three griffins inbound from the south.” I launched myself back up onto the birthing platform, quickly spun around and assumed the inverted position of a Syreni female in labor, with my head and shoulders raised above the water, allowing me to dip beneath the surface to catch my breath when needed.
Kerrigan's Race (The Syreni Book 1) Page 38