Leyla

"On your knees, Kathmir."

Leyla gasped and widened her eyes as she watched poor Ahrron get shoved onto the ground before her in the Dralan's chamber. He grunted faintly, but obediently kept his head lowered.

"My lord," She whispered, feeling the Dralan clench her and move her up on his lap where she was sitting, keeping her pressed tightly to his body. A growl stained his face.

Callath, who stood behind Ahrron with a blade pressed to his back, making sure he kept his kneeling pose, bore the same mien, as if the Kathmir was something of a fierce threat. Leyla pouted at the poor treatment her friend was receiving.

"Speak what you spoke to me," Callath ordered, poking him with the blade. Ahrron jerked ever so slightly, but pressed his lips together.

"Your Majesty," He then started, bowing even lower on the floor. "On my life, I offer you my sincerest apologies for breaking the law and touching your Mihrisa. I wanted nothing more but to serve his Majesty, the Dralan, my one true king. Please accept my wish to serve you as a blood servant."

Leyla's mouth dropped while she vaguely sensed the Dralan growl lowly behind her. He possessively clenched her again, as if to assert his claim on her.

"I accept," The Dralan snarled, but the words seemed to cause him great pain to speak. Leyla felt him almost trembling with resistance, knowing that he was letting his female feed from another male. A male he despised over something silly, according to Leyla. She sighed defeatedly.

"My lord," She whispered again, turning slightly in his lap to meet his eyes. She cupped his cheek when he refused to tear his icy gaze from the kneeling male before him. "Dohmenic. Please."

Finally, he tore his gaze from the male and met her. "Dahna. I've brought him here to feed you."

She felt herself melt ever so slightly at his words, knowing how hard it must have been for him to set aside his hatred for the male and let him come here because she had asked for him. Even so, her heart ached even more at the idea that Ahrron could've been coerced here.

"I know," She replied, speaking quietly. She pressed her lips together and looked at her devoted Dralan. "But I can't take his vein like this."

"He is here voluntarily," Callath assured her, poking Ahrron with his blade again. "Are you not, Kathmir?"

Ahrron grunted a little, but nodded nonetheless. "Yes, milady. I came here on my own volition."

Leyla still didn't feel convinced. She sighed a little again, but then turned to look at the Dralan again. "May I... talk to him?"

The Dralan pulled his upper lip back, baring his elongated fangs. "No. You will do nothing but drink from him. That's final."

"Dohmenic, please," She begged, laying her hand over his chest and pressing herself closer against him. "Amorsa tua," She whispered, feeling him unclench, if only a little. "This male once saved my life. You may hate him, but I owe him my gratitude. Please allow me to say my peace, just this once."

She could see the fight in the Dralan's eyes. His teeth gnashed together and he swallowed an obvious curse. But then, against all odds...

"You have thirty seconds," He pushed out, before gripping her tightly again. "But you stay right here, dahna."

Leyla's heart bloomed. Pressing her lips firmly over his, she rested them there for a good moment before pulling back. "Thank you, my lord."

The Dralan growled lowly, and suddenly the look in his eyes had changed. She knew that look too well.

Quickly turning around before her seconds ran out, Leyla looked upon Ahrron who was still kneeling on the uncomfortable floor, head turned down. "Ahrron."

"Milady," He replied dutifully, keeping his head lowered.

"Thank you so much for what you did," She whispered, feeling the Dralan grip her tighter when she tried to lean closer towards him. That was a firm no. "I know this is much too late, but I'm so sorry for what happened. Truly, you were so kind to me and you did nothing but help me. Please accept my gratitude."

"Milady," Ahrron repeated, bowing his head deeper. He didn't speak another word, and it forced the question in her head that maybe he had been instructed not to do so.

Still having a few seconds left, Leyla decided to use them wisely. "You don't have to do this if you don't want to, Ahrron. I cannot take from you if you are not willing."

At that, she saw a slight crack in his façade. She swore she even saw his lips turn up ever so slightly.

"I am more than willing, milady," He promised, still staring at the floor, but smiling silently. "To serve you is to serve the Dralan. I'll have no greater honor in my life."

She heard the Dralan hum behind her. Then, with a little clench, he let her know that her time was up.

Pulling back, Leyla sighed, but felt a little more assured. If he was really speaking the truth, then she had to take his words as gospel.

"Are you ready to feed?" Callath voiced, looking at Leyla. She gave a little nod, to which Callath stepped forward and gripped Ahrron's neck. "Then let's get on with it. Kathmir."

Leyla then watched as Callath pulled the male up to his knees, only to keep his head pressed down, staring at the floor as he lifted his arm and rolled up the sleeve. Ahrron loyally did as instructed and bared the vein in his arm; Ready for her to take.

Leyla felt her thirst return as she looked upon the inviting vein. She gulped quietly, but felt her fangs extend in her mouth. She didn't realize how thirsty she was until she saw the way his vein throbbed readily in his arm.

"No touching," The Dralan hissed as she carefully leaned in. He kept her situated on her lap, pressed against his cock as Ahrron held out the male's arm. "Get it done quickly, dahna. For me."

It was the worst kind of torture, watching the female you loved take nourishment from another male. Leyla herself remembered the pain she had felt when the Dralan had been feeding from the Lady Kahtrina. Before she even realized she loved him. Now she was sure she could never go through it again. It only showed the Dralan's commitment to her health.

And that's why, leaning down swiftly, Leyla only briefly looked upon Ahrron to assure herself that he was alright, before she pulled her upper lip back and extended her fangs. With a small hiss, she then struck down on his arm and pierced his vein.

Ahrron didn't even as much as flinch or make a sound, but she felt the Dralan jerk something fiercely behind her, clutching on to her breast and cupping her between her legs as she took her first drag. Leyla let out a low moan as the blood hit her, the same time the Dralan growled against her back and tightened his grip on her.

Caught between arousal and the frenzy of feeding, Leyla sucked Ahrron's blood down in heavy gulps, feeling her throat get coated with the life-giving liquid. Her insides quenched and the fire stopped inside her, while the pit in her abdomen was set a-thunder by the Dralan's possessive groping. His hand went between her thighs and met her most sensitive parts.

With a whimper, Leyla drank her last gulp and then detached herself, and not even a second later she found herself in the arms of the Dralan, pressed tightly to his chest. She heard a furious hiss coming from his throat before a quick utterance of words; "Get him out of here now."

Too disoriented and satiated by her feed, everything was a blur to Leyla as she faintly sensed Callath drag Ahrron out of the chamber by his collar. She mouthed the words thank you and hoped they passed her lips loud enough for him to hear them. By the Sweet Miss, the male did not deserve this treatment.

Her feed was over and the door slammed behind Callath as he left with Ahrron, leaving her alone with the Dralan. She had barely gathered her senses before she felt him shred her of her clothes and strip her body bare. She gasped when she then felt his own heavy body lay on top of hers, parting her legs to welcome him.

With a cry, Leyla hardly realized he had pushed inside her before she felt the delicious pain of his large intrusion. She arched out and felt as he started pushing his cock in and out of her, the same time his lips growled in her ear.

"Mine."

He was marking her. Her body now filled with Ahrron's blood smelled of another male, and the only other way to remove the scent was to replace it with another - a much more permanent and intrusive one; His seeds.

"Dohmenic!" Leyla cried out and gripped onto his broad shoulders as she felt him reach deeper inside her. Pleasure exploded from all corners of her body, making her toes curl and her abdomen twist in ecstasy. "Please... yes..."

"This is mine," The Dralan growled, reaching down to palm her heavy breast. He squeezed it tightly and made her bite her lips.

"It's yours," She whimpered submissively, lost in pleasure.

"You're all mine, dahna," He purred in her ear, just as the sound of her wet heat swallowing him whole intensified. "Tell me who you belong to, Amorsa. Whose seeds do you carry?"

"Yours," She moaned out, feeling herself reaching her peak. "Dohmenic!"

Her orgasm washed over her, and with a loud roar, the Dralan emptied his seeds inside her convulsing core. Both of them came together in ecstasy while their scents combined, mixing and swirling around both inside and out. Leyla shivered as she felt his thick seeds fill her belly, filling her gloriously until she dripped with them. She moaned, satisfied.

"My female," The Dralan's throatily uttered against her neck, breathing hard. Still inside her, he kissed her vein and made her shiver as he shifted his claim around inside her.

Leyla could not grasp how content and happy she was. The pure fortune that had smiled down upon her for reasons she didn't know. From nothing but a homeless bahk, to now being the Dralan's female, claimed by the strongest, most powerful male in the world, who every day made sure to give her his devoted love.

She did not know how she had come to be this lucky; safe, loved and cared for by the Dralan himself. What has she possibly done to deserve this?

"I want to pray," She whispered gently.

The Dralan stilled above her. He pulled back to meet her eyes, raising a slanted brow at her. "You wish to... pray?"

Leyla nodded and cupped his cheek, feeling all of her emotions stir inside her as she realized she hadn't thanked the one being properly who destined her to have all of this. "Yes. I... I want to pay tribute to The Blithesome Miss for the fortune she's given me. You, this... a young, maybe," She lowered her hand to her stomach and pressed her eyes together in longing. By The Miss, she wished it would be so.

The Dralan softly kissed her lips and made her eyes flutter open when he hummed deeply. "I will pray with you, dahna."

Blinking twice, Leyla watched in surprise as the Dralan then climbed off the bed and dressed himself. He donned his boots and ran a hand through his disheveled hair.

"I will go find a rose from the garden. Then I will come back and we can pray here. One day I will take you to the castle dome, but I'm afraid it's reserved for royalty only. When you are mine in the eyes of the people, I will take you there and pray with you again, Amorsa. For now, we'll make due here."

He grabbed his weapon's belt from the table and fastened it around his hips while Leyla tried to process his words. The dome; the place specifically built to resemble a womb and to make thoughts louder, echoing off the round ceiling. She had heard rumors of these domes, but never had she actually been in one. She had heard praying to The Blithesome Miss in one of these domes were unprecedented to anything else.

"It would be my honor," Leyla therefore whispered, feeling her heart ache at the thought that he wanted to share something so intimately with her.

The Dralan met her eyes, and with a short smile, he walked up to her and placed another series of loving kisses on her mouth, before breathing quietly against them; "You are my greatest honor, dahna."

Then, with a last kiss, he pulled back and headed for the door. Leaving, he closed the door and locked it tightly, before heading down to the gardens to find the perfect rose. Leyla sighed blissfully and slowly arose, leaving the covers in the bed.

Walked barefoot and naked across the floor, she walked over to the large window that pointed towards the gardens and peaked out carefully behind the curtains. It was a truly beautiful day. The roses were blossoming, the sky was blue and the Kathmirs and Kischmirs were tending to the bushes with care, smiling and talking lively to each other as they enjoyed the day.

Leyla missed being outside. It was a small price to pay for the safety she was promised in these trying times, but she couldn't deny she missed the gentle breeze of the warm air. Still, she reminded herself there would be more sunny days in the future, but for the time being, this was the best option to keep her well-guarded. Some day, she would be free to walk about the castle again.

Suddenly catching eye of a tall figure, her lips turned into a soft smile as she watched the Dralan walk into the gardens, all the Kathmirs and Kischmirs rising to bow for their Dralan. He strode past them, heading for a rose section, before crouching down and studying each rose closely. For what seemed like ages, Leyla watched him search the garden for what he deemed the perfect rose. Just when she thought he had found his choice, he would rise and go to another. The process continued for almost fifteen minutes until finally, she saw him frisk the red dagger from his belt.

With a swift slice, the rose came off its branch. Holding the stemmed rose, the Dralan cupped it to his chest before turning and walking back the way he came from. The Kathmirs and Kischmirs bowed once again, watching him leave with his rose.

Leyla pulled back from the window and instead walked across the room, towards the sunlight coming in from the window across the room. She slowly stopped in the square of light on the floor, taking a deep breath as she felt the warmth hit her naked body.

She suddenly missed bathing in the ocean.

Minutes had barely passed before the door was unlocked and the Dralan came back. He stepped in, holding the rose, but halted the second he saw her standing there in the sunlight. Leyla felt herself blush ever so slightly as his eyes slid over her and seemed to pass over with a deep emotion.

"Sahl Amorsa," He then whispered, coming closer and handing her the flower.

Leyla carefully took it, making sure to avoid the sharp thorns, and instead looked at the beautiful specimen he had procured. Every petal was a gleaming white, not a spot to be found. It was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen.

"Thank you," She whispered, turning her eyes up to the Dralan gratefully. Once again, her emotions got the better of her. She couldn't believe how much she had to be grateful for in her life. What she had done to deserve it.

The Dralan smiled and moved closer to her, cupping her cheek before moving his mouth over hers. He kissed her slowly, deeply, tasting her and letting his hands slide over her naked skin, feeling every soft inch of her. Leyla moaned softly, but felt no urgency behind his touch.

Pulling back, the Dralan then whispered against her lips. "Undress me."

A little breath left her lips. Nodding, Leyla then shakily begun undressing her Dralan, taking off his belt and unlacing his tunic, before untying his pants and ridding him of everything. He stepped out of his boots and let her drag his tunic off until he stood as naked as her, wearing only his royal red ring.

As naked as they were both born.

"Come," The Dralan then urged.

Taking the flower from her hand, she followed his lead as they both knelt down in the sunlight and watched as he placed the rose in front of them on the hard floor, resting gently in the sun as well. Then, kissing her hand a last time, Leyla followed him as he slowly knelt down completely, laying her hands on the floor and pressing her forehead against them.

- And together, they then called upon The Blithesome Miss in their time of need and longing to praise, wishing only the times ahead to be that of Her will, come what ever may.

Dohmenic

The weeks that followed were that of a hectic blur.

In the time leading up to the mating ceremony, the Dralan had been stuck between council meetings and making preparations for the ceremony itself. There were lots of things that needed to be in order before the event could happen. Legal documents, old scripts that needed to be dusted off and reread to make sure everything followed tradition. Two weeks went by wherein he held several meetings with the Lords of his kingdom, who all reported back to him with their tasks.

Lord Merram had secured the marble alter and had assured him it was being transported to the castle and would be arriving over the next few weeks.

Lord Amethist had been in charge of the guest list, overseen by the Dralan himself, who approved of those he trusted enough to enclose in such an intimate event.

Lord Acavell was finding an officiator who was prepared to oversee the holy ceremony. The last time a royal mating ceremony had been performed was at Dohmenic's parents' mating. He had been conceived that night, by his mother who was a virgin like all the Dralaqs before her.

– Until Leyla.

And finally, there was the making of announcing the news to the public; an announcement that could be truly groundbreaking in the hardened times they were living in. With Phlague's males on the scour to kill anything and anyone that ensured the Dralan's survival, extra security measures had been taken as the day of the announcement approached. The castle was brimmed to the edges with Lathras patrolling the premises, guarding the castle's grounds night and day. The Dralan had laid the security upon his very best friend and most trusted male, Callath.

With everything going on, the Dralan had barely had any time at all to see his female, who in his busy days had taken up the task of reading up on her duties as future Dralaq. He had provided her with some reading material that she had seemed grateful to receive. She spent most of her days in her own chamber with her Kischmir, doing only what The Sweet Miss in the sky knew. He was happy she was keeping herself occupied, but it saddened him that they suddenly had so little time together during the day. He assured himself that this was only for the time being, until the mating ceremony had been performed.

After that, nothing but death could break them apart.

Sitting in his study, the Dralan sighed heavily and tilted his head back, his neck stiff from reading about the mating ceremony. As much as he looked forward to claiming his Leyla once and for all, there was one critical part of the plan that was still missing a solution.

Glancing over the text in the book, the Dralan's jaw locked as he went over the same paragraph he had went over dozens of times during the past couple of weeks.

During the mating ceremony, both male and female must be completely naked, after the sacred robes have been removed. Upon the closing of the curtains, the Dralan must lay his Dralaq on the marble alter and mount her. He will take his rightful place betwixt her thighs and breach her holy temple in front of his witnesses and claim her purity in the name of The Blithesome Miss. The Dralaq must bleed unto the marble slab as proof of her virginity; the sacred blood of her purity forever to be claimed by the Dralan and swept up in a linen cloth, his to keep as a token of her pureness.

It was simple enough, really. The ceremony was designed for Dralans to make a rightful, public claim to their Dralaq, as a way of ridding any doubt of her worthiness to be by his side. The blood of her virginity was the promise.

But his Leyla no longer had her virginal blood.

Rubbing his forehead, the Dralan sighed frustratedly and closed his eyes. This could ruin everything.

If his Leyla did not bleed onto the marble, the ritual would not be complete and she would be branded unholy and impure. A true virgin always bled, but his Leyla had already bled onto the sheets in his bedroom weeks ago...

So how could he make her bleed again?

The Dralan opened his eyes and stared down onto the text again, searching for an answer. There had to be a way...

A knock on the door drew his attention up and away from the book. With a sigh, he straightened out and folded his hands on the table. "Enter."

His Kathmir and best friend came in through the door, bowing his head respectfully. "My lord."

The Dralan waved him in and gestured to the seat across him. "How fare the preparations?"

"They are well underway. Letters from Lord Merram informs that everything is running smoothly so far. Of course with the announcement day being tomorrow, that could all change quickly."

The Dralan hummed and rubbed his royal ring distractedly. He listened only with a half ear to what his friend was saying, still caught in the troubles that plague him.

"Sire?" Callath spoke up, noticing his Dralan's faraway gaze. "Is everything alright?"

Sighing a last time, the Dralan released a crack in his neck and then laid his hand over the old scriptures. "It's the mating ceremony. It demands that my Leyla bleeds onto the marble as soon as I take her."

"But of course."

"But my Leyla won't bleed."

The room silenced. Callath looked down at the book as well, apprehension staining his face in a deep frown as well. He rubbed his chin thoughtfully.

"What if we... faked it?" He suggested.

"What do you have in mind?" The Dralan humored him. He had been over it a hundred times already. The male would surely consider the same options as he had.

"Perhaps there could be talk of a small incision..."

"I will not harm my female, not when she is already so exposed. Any wrong movements will be looked upon suspiciously, too. A cut would be too messy, even a fine one. If I were to gently bite her, blood would taint my lips."

Callath nodded in understanding. "Very well..."

The problem of the mating ceremony was the same that had prevented any other impure female to hide her sin; both the male and the female had to be naked for the ceremony. Nothing could be hidden, and therefore nothing could be missed. Any Dralan worth his title demanded a clean, pure female; someone worthy to the throne and of his service.

– And so the ceremony was designed to shield nothing but the truth from the witnesses selected to watch.

The ceremony took place in a great hall on the Sanctum Island, although in this case, in the Dralan's castle, surrounded by outside security. First, the witnesses were seated. Then the officiator was entered under the arch of white roses. Then, both the male and the female would enter, wearing nothing but white silken cloaks. They would each approach the arch and stand beneath it as the officiator laid unto them their sacred vows. They would seal their bond with a kiss of promise.

Then, it was time for the actual mating-part of the ceremony. Vows had been taken and were now to be upheld. Both male and female would descend down to the great white marble alter, which would stand in the center of the room, surrounded by the witnesses. Around the alter would be a thin curtain hung to offer the faintest modicum of privacy; the curtains a thin material, see through enough to see shapes, but perhaps not all of the naked skin. The male and female would then step behind the curtain and unrobe each other, whereafter the male would place the female upon the alter.

And there, before The Blithesome Miss and all the witnesses, he would claim her and make her his Dralaq.

But if she did not bleed...

"What about a small dagger?" Callath tried, grimacing ever so slightly. "Even a needle, perhaps. You could prick her thigh gently enough to draw some blood—"

"It will look too suspicious," The Dralan dismissed, shaking his head. If he pawed around for too long, the witnesses would notice. It could not appear as if he was trying anything, and he definitely could not be precise with a needle without needing some pawing around.

"Sweet Miss," Callath sighed and palmed his head. "Perhaps this is too much, Dohmenic. If we do not find a solution of some sort..."

– It would end beyond worse than what he even dared to think about. He, as Dralan, would be accused of attempt of fraud and shame the throne. The kingdom would break apart and everything they had worked for would burn into ashes in the wages of Phlague's victory. That could never happen.

Callath grunted our frustratedly. "Perhaps we can manage to conceal something under the alter—a small vial of blood, something you can spill discretely onto the alter."

"And do what with it afterwards?" The Dralan growled out irritatedly, although his anger was not towards his friend, but rather the situation. "The alter will be inspected before the ceremony, and say if by The Sweet Miss's blessing they don't find a small vial, what am I supposed to do with it afterwards? If they find it, they will know."

Callath shook his head and abruptly stood up to pace the floor. "Sweet Miss, I don't know! Dohmenic, you were the one who set this into motion. It's too late to stop it now, if we don't find a way to smuggle something in there—"

"It is impossible Callath, we won't be allowed to wear a single thing!" The Dralan snarled. "Her hair will be forced to hang lose, she cannot even wear jewelry to adorn herself. Not even as much as a necklace or a—"

The Dralan stopped in the midst of his sentence. As if The Blithesome Miss herself had given him her sweet blessing, the sunlight peaked in through the window in his study and hit him. And as his eyes looked down as the flicker of something caught his attention, the answer came to him, mounted on his very own finger.

"A ring," The Dralan whispered silently, lifting his hand to gaze upon the royal red ring on his finger.

The only thing he kept with him at all times – the only thing he never took off for anything, as was his vow the day it was bestowed upon him.

– His royal red ring; the ring which held the compartment of his dried blood, the blood he gave the day he became Dralan.

And the ring that not even a ceremony could ever allow him to remove it for.

"Dohemnic..." His friend uttered his name silently and in shock as the answer seem to strike him as well, both males glaring at the little ring.

Once again, The Blithesome Miss had blessed him with an answer.

Clenching his fist tightly and watching the ring glint in the sun, the Dralan smirked slowly. Things were coming together, and not even a war would stand in the way of him mating his female and solidifying his claim to the throne.

Protecting his kingdom once and for all.

"May The Blithesome Miss help us," Callath whispered silently, just as the Dralan arose from his chair and walked over to his window to gaze upon his land.

Oh, but she already had.

And only tomorrow would show how much as his engagement was made public to the whole of the kingdom; to lords as bahks, rich as poor.

To both pests and Phlagues.