by May Sage
After a pause, Ash said, "It's the blood. We don't want to be bound to anyone out of the blue, so we only use the blood of dead dragons. Freeze it, then inject a high dose of it inside a mortal. Not all survive the process, but those who do do not die."
It made a lot of sense. Human mates did ingest dragon blood, when they bit and marked their partners, after all.
Three courses of food later, they'd not run out of things to discuss, from science to music, art, magics, and training methods. By dessert, Elza's feet were on Ash's lap; he massaged them hard, his touch making her strain to talk coherently and keep uncivil moans to herself.
"So, am I right to think Elza will be your first wife?" Archer asked as the servant brought brandy to go with their apple strudel.
"We're still discussing details," Ash replied.
Archer laughed. "And I suppose the dragons of these parts won't take kindly to a foreigner, either."
Elza shrugged. "See if I care."
"They can hardly be opposed to a sound political alliance. Elza's rider is queen of Farden. Our main issue is that we're not quite sure how she feels about sharing me yet."
The wolf was quick to catch on. "Ah. Hence why I'm here, I take it."
"Smart boy."
Archer smirked. "I'm no boy, my lady. We may want to get that fact straight right away."
She lifted a brow. His tone had changed, and if she wasn't mistaken, the man was angling for dominance. Oh, he had balls all right. He was but a wolf, in front of two dragons, and he was trying to best them.
"Aren't you, now? Even though good boys get treats and scratches where it itches," she teased, leaning forward, her hand touching his lap.
Ash's eyes on her only served to excite her more. Oh, dear. This was a game she definitely didn't mind playing.
"Even then, ma'am. But if you call me your equal and show me respect, I can assure you that I would never allow for any part of you to itch in my presence."
Demelza had never taken two men. She did that night. One teased her breasts and took her pussy while the other licked it; then she had Ash in her mouth, and Archer inside her. Ash was girth and curves; a cock perfectly shaped to hammer at her g-spot. Archer had length and never hesitated to make it dirty, biting necks, scratching deep, and curving two fingers inside her ass as he pumped her pussy, calling her all sort of nasty things.
"Not so very prim and proper, now, are you, my lady," he chuckled, removing his cock from her sheath, and angling it lower, until the head of his hard, glistening member was against her arsehole. She just had the time to gasp before he lifted his hips, plunging it deep inside. Oh, by heaven and hell, she'd never felt so very full.
"Come, Ashkar. Leave her mouth. Your lady's cunt awaits."
He withdrew his cock, and plunged it back inside her ass, fast, deep, hard, at a rhythm that was going to render her entirely insane, she was certain of it. Archer rolled on his back to have her on top, legs parted. Ash knelt between them and pressed his cock at the entrance of her pussy. There was no way she could fit them both. None. It already felt so very tight! But she was too busy screaming in agony and ecstasy to protest. Ash thrust in, and she came and came, and came, for how long, she couldn't tell. Her body had never been so weak, weightless, limp, and relaxed. But the next instant, she felt heat gather in her insides again, a pressure on her chest, her pussy tighten, wanting more.
So, she told them so. "Please, give me more!"
"Aye, lassie. More coming for you." Ash played with her clit. Archer pinched her nipples. One man thrust inside her tightness as the other withdrew, at first. Then, they changed the rhythm, and both of them fucked her ass and vagina at the same time. She would never have thought that it was possible to feel quite so full; it might have been painful, had it not felt so very deliciously warm and arousing. There could be nothing as intense as this.
Of course, Archer had to prove her wrong, withdrawing his dick from her ass, and plunging it higher, inside her pussy, right along with Ash's.
"Aaaargh!" she yelled, loud enough to raise the dead.
Both men quickened the maddening pace impossibly, grunting, panting, as she tightened around them, coming again. They followed shortly behind, both of them coating the inside of her pussy with their come.
She didn't know how long they remained in that position, unmoving, trying to remember how to breathe, think, exist.
"Yeah. We need another girl. I can't do that myself every day. I'd die coming."
Other than that pesky little detail, she could definitely get used to it.
"I'm entirely certain there are about a billion worse ways to die, my lady.”
The man might just have a point.
Bears
Archer led, Elza topped, Ash followed. Wasn't he supposed to be the king in that scenario? He wasn't quite certain how things had turned out that way, but it worked. It truly did. He didn't mind sharing Elza. He loved seeing her enjoy herself with Archer. And the man he was slowly getting to know was perfect for the role. Strong, wise, caring. Funny, kind.
Ash took to kissing him in the morning, right after dropping his lips on Elza's forehead. Might have something to do with rubbing his dick inside Elza's snatch every other day, but the progression felt entirely natural. A good thing, too, as it was necessary. The wolves would not have been satisfied with a spouse the king didn't care for. He cared for Archer. He wanted him to be happy. It was entirely different from his bond to Elza, unofficial as it was. If the dragoness suddenly perished one day, he might never recover; he might not live through her loss, going feral like so many of their kind when they lost a mate. But if Archer was killed, he'd start a war to avenge him; hell, he'd start a war simply to get his mind off his loss.
"So, are you saying that things fate planned worked out fine?" Damion asked, visibly amused.
From the beginning, he'd believed that Ash was being foolish in his attempt to stay away from Demelza. Now that he'd been proven right, the rider was unbearably smug at all times.
To be rid of Damion's stupid grin, Ash asked, "So, when are you going to go to Farden? I believe your sisters invited you for a long holiday."
The mage glared.
He'd written, as he'd promised he would, and he'd also sent the letter, after a time. That didn't mean that he was ready to see them. Ash left him alone, although Demelza was frustrated with Damion's unwillingness to see his family.
She saw the queen, her rider, at least every other week, and each time, Xandrie asked about Damion. She was tired of having to evade answers, pretend that he was busy.
"Besides, all is not well, not yet," Ash said.
They did fine, Archer, he, and Elza, but would the dragoness be quite so welcoming of another partner--a female, of all things?
They'd know soon enough.
The bears were a lot friendlier than the dragons. They'd only announced their intention to see them that morning, but by mid-day, when they arrived, the town had set up a festival, with musicians and dancers in the street, food carts and games in the main square in front of the city hall.
It had been too long since Ash had visited the main bear holding.
"Arthur," he said, greeting one of his guards on leave. "How's it going?"
"Bring me back," the man begged. "My mother is feeding me cake. So many cakes. If I don't return to duty soon, there's no amount of push-ups that'll undo the damage."
Ash laughed good humoredly. "Arthur, meet Demelza. She's to be my first wife."
The rumors had obviously reached him; he greeted her without surprise. "Lovely to hear he's finally biting the bullet. I'll be seeing you shortly. I'm to return to my duty within a week. If your guard hasn't been set up yet, it'd be my honor to volunteer."
Elza wrinkled her nose. "I mean, that'd be great, of course. But before I have a guard, I'm guessing I'd better kick an ass or two myself. Make it clear that I'm no easy pickings."
The bear beamed, nodding his approving. "Aye, no doubt. The guard is ceremonial. Ash c
an take care of his backside, and you have to show them you can, too. Before we name potential kingly spouses here, we make sure they're well trained."
"Talking of spouses, I was wondering if I may speak with my father's wife." He took a moment to recall the name. "Faya, I believe."
Arthur laughed. "Good memory. I don't think you've ever met, have you? Well, I can certainly take you to her. That's my ma'."
Ash lifted a brow. "You're Faya's son?"
That made them practically family; they had a half-sister in common.
"Show us the way, then. We have much to talk of."
Elza and Archer moved to follow him, but Ash shook his head. "Stay, enjoy the festivities."
This was one conversation he should handle himself, and besides, they had another mission here.
Faya wasn't surprised when she was told of her daughter's survival. "I would have known if she'd died," the bear queen stated. "She's mine."
She took Ash's hand and held it against her heart. "I'm glad you've found her, my king. With your leave, I would like to make enquiries about visiting Farden and seeing her with my own eyes."
He gave his heartfelt consent, before returning to the fest.
Elza was at the food cart, of course, enjoying sweet buttery pastries. He joined her, gratefully taking the dessert she'd saved him.
It was just as well that they'd come to find Faya, and not for Demelza to pick a wife, because that particular business was a lot more complicated than one might have thought. She saw plenty of pretty women, and some charming ones, too, but there was a very big difference between seeing a woman she wouldn't have minded playing with and picking someone she'd want to spend months with. Or the rest of her life, if this arrangement worked.
"Where's our man?" Ash asked.
She tilted her chin to the center of the town square, somewhat amused. Archer looked rather lost, surrounded by half a dozen bear females who eyed him like he was candy.
"Under attack, apparently. He said he'd make enquiries about the eligible ladies, and well…" Elza grimaced, waving to him. "Apparently, that's what happens when an attractive man asks who's free."
Ash winced at the wolf's obvious distress. They weren't going to find anyone here, not this way. "Should we help him?"
Elza pouted. "What's the fun in that?"
All their way back, Archer would not stop complaining about bear females, and therefore, it was entirely logical that he'd be the one who ended up finding their bride.
Ash and Elza poured over folders and held interviews. Archer had his job of guardian protector of the city, and only emerged to eat, fuck, and sleep. He shocked them both when he walked in with a pretty thing on his arm.
Balance
The lass had been there for days, weeks perhaps. He didn't realize when he'd started noticing her. It might have been on the day when she had ribbons in her hair for the first time.
Women of Absolia were not fond of ribbons, or dresses, for that matter. Just like the boys, they had spears thrust in their hands the moment they could walk, and strength was valued above all else. A woman who could shoot a bull's eye a hundred paces away had a better chance of finding an enamored trail of Absolians than a beautiful lass would.
But since Demelza's arrival, five months ago now, things had subtly changed. Perhaps people saw that it was entirely possible to be both beautiful and strong, for the dragoness had no shame in wearing dresses, or ribbons, but she could stop a growling beast with one commanding glance, nonetheless.
And so, the woman wore ribbons one day, threaded in her long, braided hair. Archer mainly noticed because she was in brown leather from head to toes, but for the splash of blue in her dark hair.
She came through the rank of warriors and thrust a water skin in their grasps wordlessly.
A volunteer. There were many in their realm; city folks who took some of their own time to help the armies. A way to thank them for their protection, Archer wagered.
"Thank you, lass," he said that day.
When he saw her again the following week, there was no ribbon. He wasn't sure why it bothered him. So, he asked.
The woman shrugged. "I washed it. It's drying."
He frowned. "You've just got one."
She laughed. "Not a lot of money to go around, is all. My da was mighty pissed I bought one to start with. Could have paid for a bottle, he said."
She looked too old to care about what her da had to say about her purchase, but he didn't point it out. It wasn't his problem, after all.
Sometime that week, Archer did buy a ribbon, though. Volunteers were doing good work; she should have a goddamn piece of colored cloth if she wanted one.
He stuffed it in his pocket and kept it there, feeling awkward about giving a stranger a present. Maybe he'd get Raoul to give it to her. The gods knew, it wouldn't be the first time that flirt had bought something for a pretty girl.
But the volunteer did not come at all that day. Or the day after. When he saw her again, there was a thin scar on her neck, barely noticeable, but Archer's eyes went right to it.
She walked to him, a water bottle in hand, and instead of taking it, he seized her wrist, pulling her close.
Fear. There was fear in her eyes. Archer ignored it, sliding her right sleeve down her shoulder. The healing scar tissue was deep and nasty, and her entire arm was bruised.
"That doesn't look like play."
The girl snarled, pulling her hand back. "How dare you. It's no business of yours what happens to me."
"I dare. Every time I see a woman hurt without her consent, I will dare," he replied unapologetically. "Now you can talk, or I can follow you home and kill everyone who looks at you funny on the way. Understood?"
And so, she'd talked, very reluctantly, visibly pissed at him as she did. "It's just the drink, okay? Da's lost it since ma died, and when he drinks overmuch, he hits everything around. I can take care of myself; the little ones can't, so I fought him off."
Fought him off.
The man was dead.
"And you will not do anything, mister. He's still my da."
"Little ones. Brothers and sisters?" She nodded. "Are they why you're home?"
A shrug now.
"Go home, pack them. You're coming home with me."
She grimaced. "To your pack? I think not. I'm a bear. We don't mix with wolves."
That had made him pause for a moment. Not because she was right; it didn't matter at all under his roof. There was plenty of room on Wolf Mountain, and no one would hurt a person under his protection, bear or not. But he thought it out, because they needed a bear. Ash, Demelza, and he were one female bear short. This spunky, sassy, scarred, ribbonless little thing certainly wasn't anyone's idea of a queen. Her clothes were simple and cheap, she didn't brush her hair every day, and Archer would have sworn she was more likely to know how to stab a man between the ribs than dance with one.
But her eyes; her bright, almost yellow, eyes. They had strength and something more. It wouldn't hurt to ask.
"You're single, lassie?"
She snorted. "And not interested. I don't like pushiness."
"Hey, I don't want you for myself. I'm thinking our king is one bear short."
Now, she looked at him like he'd entirely lost his mind.
"Yeah, right."
Archer shrugged. "No matter. You pack and come to the mountain where you'll be safe. That's my non-negotiable pushiness. You'll have your own place, and the pack all eat together twice a day. You'll come with me to meet the king only if you want to, though."
He'd been pretty sure she'd refuse both offers, but at the end of the work day, he found the girl, along with three children, each with one bag on their back, ready to pick up and go with him.
"I hope you were serious about taking us in," she growled somehow threateningly.
"I'm always serious, lassie. What's your name?"
"Emilia. These monsters are Hutch, Ben and Finn."
Archer settled her in the first
house on the mountain, right after the patrolling enforcer's cabin, so she'd have her space, if she wanted it. In the morning, she was there with the three boys. Archer didn't see her in the evening, as he'd returned to spend the night in the castle with his lovers, but he kept an eye on her when he could. The moment she'd been settled on Wolf Mountain, she'd become part of a pack, his pack.
One day, he did give her the ribbon at breakfast.
She lifted a questioning brow, and he shrugged. "You still just have the one."
The little woman wrinkled her nose. "I'm trying to save up for my own place."
"You have a place. No one pays rent on the mountain. God knows the land isn't worth much." But of course, that wasn't taking her wants into consideration. "Unless you'd prefer to return to the city, to be with more bears."
She was quick to shake her head. "No, I'm happy here. But I can't live on charity. The other pack members pay into a pot, don't they?"
Archer inclined his head. "Aye. However much they can afford. The waitress who gets ten shilling per day pays a shilling. I get a hundred pieces of gold, so I pay fifty. It's all working just fine so no one wants for anything. Take that ribbon and buy more if you want them."
She was a hard worker, chopping wood in the forest with dozens of other bears. She certainly should get to enjoy what she earned; but too many years of giving her salary to a drunk had made her too damn selfless.
With time, that changed a little.
Months later, the night Ash announced that Archer and Demelza were to be his spouses, there was a feast on the mountain, as was the tradition.
"Don't forget us now that you're gonna be a fucking king's consort," said his brother, slapping his back.
"I've been a king's consort for months. Didn't stop me from coming back here. I'm Alpha first."
And always. In her ambition, his predecessor had forgotten what it meant to put the pack first, take care of them. He wouldn't make the same mistake.
