by Haven, Rose
A young man named Nevan was tasked with teaching her the history of Canine nobility. She assumed he was young, but she found it was next to impossible to determine how old anyone was in the castle. He wasn't quite handsome, with a hooked nose and lips pressed thin by anxiety, but like all Canines he was tall and of an impressive build. A family tree was spread out across the table. Nevan made broad gesture across it as he spoke. Elizabeth couldn't focus on what he was saying, unfortunately. She felt a terrible pressure in her gut, which usually meant her child was about to subject her to the latest of its growth spurts, an unpleasant phenomenon she didn't want to suffer in front of her teacher. Nothing could be done except careful breathing, meant to postpone the inevitable.
"Our Lord Ultan took a mate in his 200th year of reign, but she never bore children. The Cennasaí title would be passed down his mistress' son, Alois, the great-grandfather of Lord Luthias. You remember Alois' son's name?"
Elizabeth exhaled, focusing on her hand as it pressed slightly between her thigh and the underside of her belly. It took a moment to realize Nevan had asked a question.
"I'm sorry?"
"Can you remember the name of Lord Luthias' grandfather?" Nevan asked.
"Ah..."
She cringed, pressing a hand to her temple.
"Was it...Cadogan?"
"That is—correct," he said, surprised. "I don't know why I doubted you, Ms. Elizabeth."
She smiled weakly, letting him continue. Even so, her thoughts wandered, despite the brimming pressure in her stomach. As her eyes drifted across the family tree, she noticed something odd about Luthias’ entry. There was a line between him and a woman that indicated matehood, but it wasn't Emilie's name he was tied to. Instead, there was "Miyako."
"When you say mate, is that like marriage?" she asked, thinking perhaps she misunderstood.
“It is similar,” he admitted. "But a human marriage is largely symbolic. When demons mate, the female is consenting to a union with the male that will permanently mark her person with his scent—or claim, if you will. When a woman has been claimed, she can never be unclaimed, though there are rumors that a claim can be overwritten by male of higher pedigree.”
"That sounds...primal."
"I suppose it must, if you were raised by humans. It's just how things work. Now, Alois actually had three mates over the course of his reign..."
Elizabeth did her best to listen, but just then she felt the skin around her bellybutton tighten, the active baby within her stilled as that horrible pressure welled. Though she tried to stop it, a moan escaped her as her belly suddenly swelled another inch on all sides. It turned out her dress was at capacity; she paled with horror when she heard the seam down her back rip open.
Nevan was staring at her, bewildered. She felt like a freak.
"I...um..." She stood from her chair, grabbing her coat off the back to wrap around her shoulders. "I think I'll...leave early," she muttered.
"By all means," he said, always polite.
Quickly, she excused herself. She didn't know where she would go, since she wasn't tired enough to nap and she certainly wasn't hungry enough to eat, but putting distance between herself and her tutor was enough of a goal. After just a few paces, she knew she had to at least change her dress--she felt the hole widen beneath her jacket as mere breathing strained her swollen breasts and stomach against the seams. The doctors warned her that the baby might come sooner than expected; at times like this, she hoped they were right.
As she made her way back to her chambers, she found herself dwelling on what she had seen in the records: Luthias and his mysterious mate, Miyako. She had never heard any mention of another woman, not from Luthias, Avery, or even Kieran. Maybe Miyako was someone Luthias had been with after Emilie—but that didn't seem right, since everyone attested that he had been alone since Emilie died—though it was possible that she had been someone in his life long before. He was old, she knew. How old though...she realized she had never even asked.
She was surprised to come upon Luthias in the hall, lounging on the wide ledge of a stained-glass window in a manner more befitting Kieran than himself. He held his forehead in his hand, apparently frustrated—but there was something sexy about this brooding look. Though she knew it was just her hormones on edge after the child's spurt, she found herself needlessly aroused, wet with the thought of him whipping out his cock and fucking her against the window.
Too soon, he realized she was there. He sat up, startled.
"Elizabeth."
She blushed, embarrassed to have interrupted his private moment and of how far her thoughts had gotten away from her. Before she could apologize, he calmed, moving aside to allow space on the ledge.
"Sit."
It wasn't to talk, she knew. He didn't like her standing for long periods of time. With a sigh, she joined him, carefully lowering herself until her ass hit the concrete and she could lean against the glass. She hated how clumsy she had become.
"I don't want to see Nevan for a while," she murmured.
Luthias slid his arm around her waist, tucking her against his body.
"Why?" he asked.
"Just...because."
He didn't pry. As his hand gently caressed her side, she relaxed, feeling that maybe life wasn't as difficult as she had thought.
"How old are you?" she asked, remembering her curiosity.
Luthias hesitated.
"I believe...four-hundred and seven," he said.
She balked at this number. He had been alive during the end of monarchy in Europe, was old enough to have seen America as British colony, the discovery of electricity, penicillin, wars before and after firearms—he had lived countless lifetimes. Her twenty-two years must have been meaningless in his eyes.
"When did you meet Miyako?" she asked.
All at once, he tensed. His face was vacant, withholding some feeling too terrible to express.
"How do you know that name?"
"She was listed as your mate," she explained, worried that she had upset him. "I assumed it was from a long time ago..."
He closed his eyes, very still. When he regarded her again, however, he was calm.
"I'll see that the record is changed."
Luthias kissed her, silencing any questions before they could be asked. She realized with frustration that for all the education he forced her to endure, she was being kept ignorant about the simplest of things. Why was there a history that recorded "Miyako" where Emilie should have been? In fact, she realized then that she had no idea what had happened to Emilie. Emilie had died—that was all anyone would say.
He won't even say the slut's name.
Emilie's voice bit through her thoughts, harsher than ever. Elizabeth pulled away from Luthias on instinct, suddenly nauseated. Luthias touched her back to support her, anxious at the sudden change, but he rarely asked her to explain. As the sensation faded, she savored the fresh air. Once again, she decided to leave the mystery for another day.
"Nevan explained mating," she said, when she was calm.
"Hn."
He seemed hesitant, waiting for her to elaborate.
"He said that demons could claim their woman," she explained. "Marking them, somehow..."
Luthias nodded.
"Correct."
"How?"
She didn't know what drove her sudden interest, or why she watched so intently for his reaction. Was it possible that she wanted...an offer? No, that was absurd. Besides, she was pregnant...maybe it wasn't even possible while she was this heavy.
Luthias avoided her gaze, pushing his fingers through his hair.
"A claim is done during intercourse," he said, blunt. "Instead of releasing semen, a sort of chemical is spent by the male at climax. This chemical is spread through the bloodstream of the woman, altering her scent to align with her mate's."
"So, it's just sex?" she asked.
"It's a...formal affair. Essentially, yes."
"Emilie went through it?"
After a pause of reluctance, Luthias would nod.
"Yes. She was claimed by me, in the end."
"And you could do the same to me?"
This, too, gave him pause. When he saw how eagerly she awaited his reply, her question a thinly-veiled request, he appeared all the more hesitant to speak.
Elizabeth touched his hand where it lay upon the ledge, patient. He sighed.
"I will, if you wish it. But the consequences are permanent: you'll never be able to entertain another man. My scent will sicken them when they advance—that's the purpose of the claim. You'll be mine, forever."
To her, that sounded like heaven. All her life she had been passed between households, from boyfriend to boyfriend, client to client, never grounded in any one place, never more than an object for others to admire. Although Luthias had secrets, his love for her was the most stable thing she had ever known: for all the damage she had watched him inflict, he had never harmed her; he made love to her tenderly, provided her all the comforts life could give, and even gave her freedom to spend her days as she saw fit, albeit with a leash that had shortened in recent months. Perhaps it was naivety that allowed her to be so easily content, but in the end, she was a simple girl. She felt no fear when she squeezed his hand, giving her reply.
"I want your claim. To be your mate...if you'll have me, like this."
Surprised as he was, she knew he was happy. She glimpsed it in the flicker of his smile.
"Then return to your chambers. Bathe, if you have the energy. I'll have a handmaiden bring you a proper gown when it's time."
He kissed her, and helped her to her feet. Whatever had been on his mind before then was long gone. Elizabeth felt him watching her as she left, a (metaphorical) skip in her step. Tonight, she would be mated to the man she loved.
Chapter 4: His Mate
Elizabeth took his suggestion. After finding another dress for the next day—one without any particular fit, so there was no chance of ruining it—she would draw a bath in the washroom. Sinking into the warm water was more than relief, as steam cradled her aching muscles and sore back like a gift from God. Even her enormous breasts weighed less, lifted by the water, nipples teased softly by ripples on the surface.
Sensing that Elizabeth was finally at rest, her baby decided now that it was time to wriggle its way into a new position. She groaned in protest as its feet pushed along her womb, protrusions she was all too used to appearing and disappearing across her white belly. She followed them with her finger, resigned to it. In truth, she had already grown to love the little stranger. It renewed her disappointment in her own biological mother—anxious as she was about her baby's parentage, she could never abandon it. Still, she knew only her own circumstances. Maybe her mother had no choice...maybe Elizabeth had been better off without her. The story Elizabeth liked to tell herself was that her mother had left her in the human world because that would keep her demon blood dormant, and her mother had wanted her to live a human life she herself couldn't provide.
Elizabeth was drying off at her bedside when the handmaiden arrived, quickly averting her eyes as she apologized profusely. Luthias had sent a silk nightgown, lacy and white, its skirt loose enough for her to wear comfortably.
"You may put it on while I explain the rite," the handmaiden said. "No undergarments."
She would do as she was told, eager to put something between her and the chilly air. The silk was soothing against her skin, the thin lace along the neckline nestled along her cleavage. Elizabeth smoothed the material against her sides, listening.
"The lord will come to your chambers at midnight. He will knock. You should kneel facing the window opposite the door, so that you don't see him when he enters. When he stands behind you, he will confirm that you wish to take his claim, and you should respond appropriately. Assume all fours, and he will proceed with the rite as he's ready. Do you have questions?"
Elizabeth shook her head, oddly relieved it wasn't more complex. Before the handmaiden left, however, she hesitated.
"Is this a big deal?" she asked.
The handmaiden gave her an odd look.
"Of course," she replied. "You're to become Lady of our people. The child you bear may be our prince. I could imagine no greater honor."
She had known that, to some extent. Even so, to hear it confirmed now made doubts swirl. When she was alone in her room again, only half an hour before Luthias would come, she was gripped by fear. What if she wasn't worth this? What if he ended up hating her? What if this child were born a Wolf, then everyone would know that their Lady's firstborn is a bastard—how would they see Luthias then? These thoughts cycled until they had exhausted all meaning and still she could not soothe herself. It didn't help that her anxiety had stirred the voice that haunted her still.
Naturally, he has no problem mating you, Emilie crooned, words slick with annoyance. Submissive broken little nothing. He'll walk all over you.
Despite all this, she would kneel facing the window when the clock struck midnight. Her child weighed heavy on her thighs, but still she waited patiently, wanting to honor tradition.
The knock came as scheduled. She closed her eyes, squeezing her knees as her heart began to pound. Slowly, the door creaked open, then latched shut. Without turning to see him, she felt his presence—its powerful silence stole all the air from the room. He approached; she felt him standing over her, observing her to the slightest tension in her shoulders. At long last, he spoke.
"Elizabeth Brissette," he said, surprisingly gentle. "I offer to claim you here. After our union, you will be Lady Cennasaí: my mate, until the end. If you wish to refuse me, now is your last chance to do so.”
Her doubts were forgotten. Emilie's voice remained silent. She shook her head, slowly releasing hold of her kneecaps.
"I accept your offer," she said. "I long to be yours."
She remembered to stretch forward onto her hands and knees; she felt a touch ridiculous, at first. But as she felt him kneel behind her, his hand slowly sliding her silk nightgown up to reveal her behind, she tensed with arousal. As he squeezed her rear, hand sliding then between her cheeks to caress her wetness, she found herself arching her ass up to invite his exploration. They had been far from chaste the last few months, but pregnancy made her unusually horny—her nipples were erect as they brushed the cool stone beneath, causing her to long for the days when he would suck on them for her pleasure and his own. It took so little to get her dripping, aching for his cock.
“Ready already?” he murmured, three fingers pressed up and inside her, spreading the hole. “I thought I’d have to do more before mounting you like a common dog…”
His middle finger traced a spiral inside her slit, making her moan. His other hand squeezed her cheek, and she pressed back into his palm, whining softly.
“Please?” she whimpered—that usually worked.
His dry hand spread over the small of her back as the other slid out of her, leaving her empty. She suddenly felt his hard shaft slide between her thighs, cradling her moist quim, but not yet penetrating. She moaned with frustration now, squeezing her inner walls and bucking against his length, pressing her bellybutton into the ground in the process.
"Patience, Elizabeth," he said, his hands resting again on her cheeks, thumbs sliding down between them. "You're brimming with child...you know you mustn't get overexcited."
"I'd let you put another in me," she groaned, dripping against his cock.
She heard him chuckle, cupping her ass, growing harder against her clit.
"You'd have my litter?" he teased, as he leaned over and kissed her spine. "You haven't the hips for it."
"I'm demon, aren't I?" she groaned, reaching between her legs to touch his stiffness, pressing it close enough so she could grind her wanting lips. "I'm stronger...than I look..."
She moaned deeply, her back arching as she ached for him.
"My lord, please take me," she begged.
Elizabeth took his silence as hes
itation, yet the next buck of his hips summoned from him a sort of growl, one she recognized as tension as he tried to resist satisfying himself. As her fingers wrapped around his cock, massaging her juices into the shaft, she felt his nails lengthen to points as he squeezed her ass tight. He needed her too, enough that he snarled when she rubbed herself again over his length.
He gripped her hips and penetrated deep--she was filled by his girth, yet it tried to stretch her more. His knees dug between hers as his hands slid around her hips to grasp her thighs, giving him leverage to thrust, pounding her as her juices gushed and she groaned, bracing herself against the ground. Her tits were suddenly engorged, rocking hard against her belly as he pounded her. She squeezed one with her hand to stop its bouncing as she pressed her knees out to accommodate Luthias, only to feel liquid squirt from her peak--a sensation accompanied by such profound relief that she moaned louder, even as milk trickled over her fingers and arm, across the white silk over her bucking belly and spilling on the floor.
"I-I'm...I'm...oh Christ..."
Pressure was building in her bloodstream and muscles, like it had when she witnessed Luthias and Rion's battle. She could again feel that energy rising inside her. Her nails lengthened into the floor and against her breast, puncturing flesh; she moaned through a red haze, canine teeth extending when she bit down. She gasped, panted, struggled to work air into her lungs as Luthias crammed every inch of space with him, his power, his need. All at once, she knew who she was: Canine, like him. She might have laughed if she weren't gyrating around her lord's enormous cock--all she had needed for her power to awaken was to let herself get fucked like a bitch.
