I always knew Megaris would fall. I never imagined it would be in my lifetime and on my watch. The power I once wielded is still there. It is stymied and muffled by the desperate and the weak.
“Give her to me."
“No.”
I have given him three more chances than I should ever have given him. Now I unleash my claws and my fury. There is more to the furs I wear and the years I have behind me than mere weakness. I was well into my third war when these whelps were born. They do not know real pain or true struggle. Tyvian is about to learn.
He expects me to make some kind of a show of force. I go for his throat. I cut through his flesh, my claws glancing off some internal shielding as they pass through. He must have defensive augmentations, so this will likely not kill him. It will, however, ruin his day.
Tyvian collapses, grasping at his throat which is pumping out more blood than I would have thought for a shielded beast. I step over his twitching form and walk through the door.
“I would really like some more… Oh my god, it's you.”
It is me. It is me and I am more me than I have been in a very long time.
Margaret screams when I grab her. She is terrified of me. I expect nothing else. For a second time, I have come to her covered in the essence of an undeserving male. And after going to all the trouble of an extensive dying process too. My blue is tainted with red, making me appear almost purple. I catch a glimpse of myself in a nearby reflective surface, and see Rath staring back at me for a split-second.
“Stop screaming. I’m not going to kill you.”
“What are you going to do to me?"
“I’m going to fuck you."
She blushes furiously and makes absolutely no sound or indication of refusal. Fighting for my mate gets my blood pumping and my arousal throbbing. There is no doubt that she is my mate. From the moment my rough cock pierced her soft human lips, she was mine.
I grab her by the back of the head and tip her face toward mine, examining it for any signs of reluctance. I do not see fear. I see desire. I see a sudden ignition of instinct.
I can smell Tyvian on her. His scent is smeared across the entire room, and Margaret as well. It makes me mad with jealous desire. My woman should never smell like another korabi. She should smell like me. She should be drenched in my seed.
Already the scent is starting to change. She is producing new pheromones. I can smell fear, but I can also smell arousal. She enjoys this side of me. Her experience of me is as a terribly cruel and aggressive tyrant, and that does not seem to phase her one bit.
I tear the clothing from her body. Tyvian has provided a korabi style robe which does not fit her at all. I liked her in her human attire, it suited her body and her temperament.
“Oh!”
She makes the smallest, most feminine gasping sound and arches her back to present her generous and soft mammaries to me. I do adore the human form. I used to find it weak and impractical, but she has changed my opinion of soft curves. I slide my massive hands over her hips and let the tips of my claws drag lightly over her rear cheeks. She is generously proportioned in all the right places. I pull her forward against me, her lightly furred crotch grinding against my hard rod. Her hair between her thighs is the same brown as the hair on her head, and the deep rich color of her eyes.
Now my clothes are an inconvenience keeping me from her hot interior. I grasp the fastenings at my cock and yank it open, my hard rod springing free, the head of it aimed at the slick slit between her thighs.
I throw her down on some of the soft human furniture Tyvian has provided for her. It is made to her scale and not mine. It creaks under the combined weight of our bodies as I pin her by the wrists and thrust myself inside her.
“YES!” I shout the word as I feel her hot, wet walls gripping me. Yes. Yes. Yes. This is what I need. This is what I have needed from the moment they tried to take her from me with their sniveling attempts at diplomacy. She clenches around me, her eyes locked on mine with a desperation which makes me grow even more inside her. There is something about this human’s wet vulnerability which drives me wild. She offers me no resistance even as I conquer her. Instead, she gives me something sweeter. Surrender.