12. THE BOY IN THE MIDDLE
Chapter twelve
THE BOY IN THE MIDDLE
Who were they waiting for?
The grand king paced the room. Moving so tense and agitated he was practically stomping from one end of the room to the other, sweating profusely.
Alviara could bet a headache was pounding his skull. She was utterly confused, but the fierce scowl on King Daemonikai's face forced her to keep her mouth shut.
The door opened, and the boy was ushered back into the room.
The grand king's pacing ceased abruptly, tension visibly draining from his body.
"You s-sent for me, Your Grace?" the boy's voice trembled. His eyes red-rimmed and puffy as if he had been crying, widened as he took in the sight of stark-naked King Daemonikai and equally naked Alviara.
A flush spread across his pale skin, creeping up from his neck to his cheeks, and he quickly averted his gaze.
King Daemonikai was suddenly all over the boy's personal space. He pressed the boy against the wall, His large frame dwarfing the boy's as he dipped his head, nuzzling the delicate skin of his neck like a contented feline. A deep purr rumbled in his chest.
The grand king pumped out pheromones like crazy. So heady, thick, and compelling that even Alviara whimpered. Her mind growing hazy, throat bared instinctively in complete submission.
"My king," the boy moaned, going limp in the stronger male's embrace. The moment stretched, charged with pure lust, tension, and surrender.
Finally, the king pulled away. "Get on the bed. Lie down," he ordered, his voice husky with desire.
The boy hesitated, a flicker of panic in his eyes.
Why panic? Alviara wondered. Is this not what he desired? The boy clearly harbors some kind of affection for their ruler.
But in the end, he obeyed. The human boy moved towards the bed and laid down beside her, his body rigid, but his eyes held arousal.
As he settled in, Alviara noticed something odd. The boy had no scent.
Huh. So he was one of those strange ones.
Shouldn't his lack of scent be vexing King Daemonikai? Shouldn't he be repelled by the boy instead of drawing him close?
"Now, you.” King Daemonikai finally looked at Alviara. “Lay atop him, your back to me."
She did as told, positioning herself between the boy's thighs, her core pressing against him. The boy wasn't even hard, Alviara noticed with a pang of sympathy.
The king finally joined them, his hands strong as they parted Alviara’s legs, and he pushed into her.
Alviara couldn't suppress a moan. The heady scent of his pheromones, combined with his touch, sent her desire spiraling.
As he began to thrust, his intense eyes remained locked on the boy's face. Each powerful thrust pounded them into the bed, rattling the frame. He might be inside her—Alviara could feel the force of his movements and the pleasure coursing through her—but she was not the one he was truly mounting.
The boy's face was flushed, blue eyes dilated with lust. As the king's pace grew hard, so did the boy's musk. An erotic, intoxicating smell that thickened heavily in the air.
Then, the grand king practically folded Alviara in half as he leaned forward capturing the boy's lips with his own.
The human cried out. Not wanting to suffocate, Alviara twisted her upper body to the right, allowing the king to rest half atop her. This gave him better access to the boy and allowed Alviara to breathe easier, while witnessing everything unfolding.
The kiss was raw and filthy. King Daemonikai devoured the boy's lips, his hips snapping forward, fucking into her like a savage animal.
Alviara's new position was not entirely comfortable, but it was tolerable. She was far too enraptured by this unexpected threesome.
Yet, at the same time, the pleasure was becoming too much for her to remain still. She needed to climax. Alviara began to move her hips. That was when she noticed it.
Wetness.
The boy beneath her was very wet. Clearly aroused, but there was no sign of an erection. It wasn't the boy's muscles or bones pressing against her chest, but tightly bound breasts.
The boy was actually a girl.
She stopped moving, her head clearing a little. Baffled, Alviara took a closer look at the pretty boy. His features were delicate and smooth, long lashes framing his almond-shaped eyes. There was subtle hints of femininity in his appearance.
It wasn't until this moment that she truly focused on the nuances of his musk. While arousal scents are not inherently gendered, his possessed a delicate sweetness... a faint floral undertone that differed from the sharper, more aggressive scents of most males. It was faint, but they all are. Alviara could only discern this because she knew what to channel for.
King Daemonikai hit a particular sweet spot inside Alviara, sending waves of pleasure through her, making her cry out. Her thoughts jumbled and fizzled out as she became lost in the moment.
Alviara would contemplate this discovery later. But for now, all she could focus on was the potent sensation coursing through her body.
She rotated her hips in a circular motion, grinding her swollen nub against the boy's—the girl's.
A moan slipped from the boy's—girl's—lips, which the king swallowed as he continued to ravage them, thrusting them into the mattress.
Alviara lost herself in the moment, dancing to the tune of pleasure ignited within her body, even though she knew they had likely forgotten her presence. The way he kissed the human, his arms possessive on the girl's body, though baffling, was simply hot.
Reaching her climax, Alviara arched her body, crying out in ecstasy.
King Daemonikai broke the kiss and buried his nose into the girl's neck, making loud sniffing noises. Letting out a frustrated growl, he sank a fang into her neck.
The girl came with a long, drawn-out moan.
Her body coiled tight as a shudder wracked her frame. The pretty human would have arched right off the bed if Alviara’s weight was not holding her down. Convulsing, her fingers gripped the sheets tightly.
She's hot. Smoking hot.
No wonder the grand king's touch was greedy; he couldn't get enough.
Alviara was a healthy female who made her living through prostitution. Although she preferred dick, she occasionally swung the other way, and right now, she nearly wished to kiss the climaxing girl, just to swallow some of the sexy cries she was making.
But Alviara did not have a death wish. Whatever was happening here was not meant for her to be a part of.
Alviara could feel the girl's wetness seeping through her own clothing, mingling with Alviara's.
A Syren, then. An average human would not gush that much.
King Daemonikai sipped from the human, and the girl's cries escalated to a high pitch, her face contorting with pleasure. Her eyes were closed as her body trembled uncontrollably.
As their ruler withdrew, a glistening trail of blood marked the path of his bite. His serpent-like tongue slithered over the wound, seamlessly sealing it as if it had never been breached.
His hips lost their steady rhythm. The grand king began to thrust wildly, pushing harder and faster as he approached his climax. His movements became frantic, driven. Alviara could not hold back her moans.
Each thrust of his thrusts was more intense than the last until he finally reached the peak of his desire.
Moments later, Alviara swiveled her head back, ignoring the twinge of discomfort, and observed as awareness returned to his eyes.
He took in their position; the way Alviara was folded awkwardly underneath him, and the girl beneath them blinked blearily, her legs still spread wide. A strange expression crossed his features, his intense gaze lingering on the girl.
But he was quite heavy; Alviara could barely breathe.
"Ahem," Alviara cleared her throat, squirming. “Your Grace, if you wouldn't mind... It's rather uncomfortable."
The moment broken, he shifted, rising from the bed. His face was a mask of cool indifference as he cleaned himself and slipped into his robe
"I apologize for any discomfort," he said, his voice once again devoid of emotion. "You may leave. Both of you.”
The girl quickly rose, her movements jerky, her cheeks flushed, and fled the room.
Alviara cleaned herself quickly, dressed, and followed suit. Outside the chamber, she scanned the corridor for the girl but found it empty.
Turning the corner, Alviara spotted the human slumped against the wall at the intersection leading away from the Southern Wing. Her clothes were disheveled, her ponytail askew, her eyes closed as if in pain.
"You know, don't you?" the girl whispered, looking utterly tired. "Go ahead, tell me how I play such a dangerous game. Tell me how I will be executed for it."
Alviara met her gaze. "It is no business of mine."
The girl's eyes opened slowly, glancing up at Alviara. "Are you going to tell him ?"
"No, my dear. As I said, it is none of my concern. I am merely relieved to finally understand why I, Alviara Myxxz, the most sought-after courtesan in Urai, presented for a male so aroused he might as well be in a rut, yet he remained unmoved." She clicked her tongue. "It nearly bruised my ego, I must admit. But then, it has nothing to do with me and everything to do with you. You are the grand king's Soulbond? "
The girl did not deny it. Silence hung heavy in the air.
Alviara stumbled back, a gasp escaping her lips. "You... you do not deny it, then? You are the king's..." She could not bring herself to repeat the word.
A curt nod was her only response.
Alviara’s composure momentarily shattered. Her eyes widened, and her hands flew to her mouth as she panted heavily.
A Soulbond ? Impossible. They were the stuff of legends, whispers of a long-forgotten past. Mere myths, long since faded from existence.
Yet, as she studied the girl anew, free from the haze of lust that had previously clouded her vision, it did not seem so far-fetched.
The human possessed an otherworldly beauty befitting the destined mate of a king. A subtle strength in her delicate frame, and… a hidden fire smoldering beneath the surface of her silvery eyes. Dormant. Unexplored.
Not to mention the attraction she had witnessed in there, between them. It burned like lava, untamed and fierce.
"Do you think he suspects?" the girl asked at last, breaking the silence.
Alviara shook her head slowly. "I doubt it. But then, who can truly know the workings of his mind?" A pause, “What is your name?"
“Emeriel."
"Emeriel." The name was like a caress on Alviara’s tongue. "Ah, the human prince? Stolen from court by the beast? The one whom a slave master met his end for daring to defile? It all makes sense now."
The girl, Emeriel, swayed on her feet, her face pale and drawn.
Alviara reached out a hand to steady her. "Are you alright?"
"The feeding. It... uhh..."
"Blood drunk?" Alviara's eyebrows shot up in disbelief. "You feel intoxicated?"
Emeriel let out a sheepish sigh. "A little."
"Huh. Guess what they say is true. Soulbonds really are the whole package," Alviara said in disbelief, "Well, human, I will be on my way. Tonight was... interesting. Let's do it again sometime."
Alviara started to walk away, then paused, turning back. "Do you want my advise?"
Emeriel shrugged, her eyes still closed.
"Hide your identity as long as you can. Nothing good will come from the discovery of your secret. That male loved his bondmate deeply, and he lost her in a way you already know. If you ask me, it is probably best if His Grace never finds out. It would likely be in your best interest.”
Alviara cocked her head to the side. “Although fate seems to have a hand here. Well, let fate play its part, but do not force it. Stay away from his bloodhost, she is a vixen who will tear you apart once she finds out what you are.” She turned to face the exit, but looked back. "Stay safe, and I wish you luck, human. With a male like the grand king, you will need all the luck in the world.”