Byhron

His head was throbbing. The other Lathras were enjoying themselves, hoarsely chuckling as the Kischmirs circled around them and straddled their laps.

Females and booze. That's how every Lathra should spend his nights off, or so Zheri proclaimed. That's why him and the males who agreed had set this circus up every night; a private chamber, filled with strong liquor and the finest females the Dralan's staff had to offer. The Lathras sat in their chairs and drank and ate, while watching the Kischmirs prance around in disgracing clothes to rise their libido.

Byhron hated it. The disgust on his face was only masked by the numbness the liquor provided, the same liquor that made him come to these horrid evenings every time. The sun had set and the moon had risen, and the Kischmirs happily stripped underneath its glow. Their bodies were lush and supple, swayed sensually as they walked amongst them. They took their turn on each male, straddling his lap and leaning down to touch him, kiss him. Suck him.

Zheri had a Kischmir's lips wrapped around his cock, while Ahvery, one of his other friends, sat with a girl grinding on top of him. The other Lathras were enjoying themselves as well, but not Byhron. He turned his eyes away from his friends and looked into his goblet instead.

Drinking like he was feeding, he emptied his chalice and then watched as a pliant female filled it again before he could even ask, seeing her lean over and illustriously bare her cleavage for him. He looked for only a moment before he turned his attention away again, not even the strong liquor enough to dim the images in his head.

Forever haunted. Forever doomed to relive the moment he failed as a brother, a protector, a male. He had cost his sister her innocence and ruined her mind for always, by not keeping her safe when he should have. She would never be able to indulge in any sexual activity again without thinking about what had happened to her.

So why should he?

A female straddled him in that moment. She looped her arms around his neck and pushed her breasts against his chest, made Byhron stop breathing. He shut his eyes as her lips descended on his and kissed him slowly, sensually.

He cursed himself for the small shudder of want that went through him.

The images would always haunt him, but he was still a male underneath it all. For just the briefest of seconds he felt himself twitch in his breeches, felt his loins heat up as the Kischmir began slowly rolling her hips against his. Their sexes grazed and he stiffened - remembered what it was like to be buried inside a wet and warm female who moaned beneath him.

He tightened his grip on his goblet and slowly let his arm loop around her waist, his lips moving back against hers. He must've been drunker than he realized, for the next second he actually saw himself taking this female to his chamber. Saw himself remove the scraps of clothing still on her skin and then wrap her legs around his hips as he sunk into her. His mind pictured it all, saw himself thrust into her as she quivered beneath him, digging her fingers into his shoulders. He even felt her climax, felt himself follow right after her. so realistically that he snapped his eyes open and -

"Fuck." He pushed the female off his lap and stood up abruptly, staggering on his feet as the woosh of his alcohol consumption went straight to his head. He steadied himself against the wall, but then made his way to the door, hearing his friends 'boo' at him for leaving the party so early. Their voices blurred out and Byhron shuffled down the halls, leaning against the wall every other minute.

His head was spinning and his mouth tasted foul. He felt sick. The churning in his stomach sloshed over and in a heap of tremors, he lurched over forward and retched in the hallway. The sloggy alcohol rushed up his throat and had him heaving as he tried to breath through it.

"You've got to be shitting me."

That voice. It was a new curse, one he seemed incapable of escaping, just as the memories. When he felt the Kathmir's body heat come closer, he gritted his teeth and dug his fingers into the stone wall he was clinging to.

"Great," The Kathmir angrily said. "And I only just finished cleaning this whole hallway and was looking forward to going to sleep. Now I can look forward to another hour on my knees scrubbing this up, because you can't hold your fucking liquor. Just great."

He was too exhausted to deal with him. Couldn't even mouth the words to tell him to piss off. He had stumbled into him in a bad time, and he was in no mood to deal with him again.

"When are you ever in a good mood?" Ahrron snorted. Damn, he had spoken that aloud, it seemed.

Pulling himself up, he leaned back against the wall and breathed through his nose. His eyes fell on the Kathmir who in the light from a torch revealed to be staring right back at him. His hair was falling onto his forehead, slightly over his nose, but those green eyes peeked through. He had a swollen lip and a bruised cheekbone, and Byhron briefly wondered how he had gotten those until he remembered; he had given him those.

"How drunk are you?" The male asked him, his lips setting in a discontent purse. He gave him a look up and down, then sighed and shook his head. "Very, is my bid."

The Dralan's castle was enormous. Literally hundreds of rooms, four wings and seven floors, not including the basement or the barracks. How - how did he keep running into him?

"You following me?" He rasped and tried to focus on the Kathmir who rose a brow at him. "You're... always... here."

"I work here, just like you do," He responded, but then pressed his lips together and sighed. "Come on. I'll lead you back to your room."

Byhron pushed him away when he attempted to lean in and sling his arm around him to support him. "Get off me! I don't... need... your... help. Don't... need... anybody."

"That so?" Ahrron folded his arms and Byhron's eyes fell to the motion. He never noticed how buff the male was for a Kathmir. Had he had any warrior training? "If that's the case, then why are you heading towards the servant quarters instead of the barracks?"

Byhron's eyes glipped up at that and instantly looked around in the hallway he was in. Damned. He had to have taken a wrong turn somewhere...

"Come on," The Kathmir said again, now leaning in once more to pull him off the wall and support his weight. "The faster your drunken ass gets out of here, the faster I can clean and head to bed. Your absence means less chance of you hurling again."

Byhron's feet dragged across the floor as he begun leading him in the right direction, practically carrying most of his weight. He didn't protest this time, but that was mostly because he was afraid if he opened his mouth again, more would come out. And not words.

The trip to his room took forever until suddenly he felt himself land on a mattress. He groaned as the male untangled himself from under his arm and then let out a strained breath. "Now sleep it off. I'll have a Kischmir bring you up a fresh pitcher of water. You better drink it."

"Leave me... alone," Byhron curled over onto his side and heard the Kathmir sigh behind him.

"You're welcome. Goddamn asshole..."

Byhron heard his last words loud and clear, and a part of him felt anger boil up inside him until it snapped when he realized the truth.

He was an asshole.

*

He had showered and dressed, and all but put yesterday out of his head. He had moved past it and chose to forget it, and instead decided to spend his lunch with his sister. He was walking back from training in his uniform, heading towards the kitchen where he hoped he'd find her, preparing lunch for the Dralan's Mihrisa perhaps. He was proud of his sister being her personal Kischmir, serving so close to the Dralan himself. At least he knew she was protected like that.

The rumor around the castle was that the Dralan had grown close to his Mihrisa and now doted on her like she was his mate. Anyone who mentioned her without his permission nearly lost their heads. He had grown very fond of her and did everything to keep her happy these days - that included treating her servant with respect and granting her better protection.

Smiling a little, Byhron stepped into the kitchen and saw the busy Kischmirs running around, pots and kettles steaming. They were all busy, but a few stopped up when they noticed the Lathra coming to their midst, searching their faces. He searched for nearly a whole minute before one of the Kischmirs strutted up to him with a smile on her face and curtsied for him.

"What can we do for you, Lathra? Lunch is on the way, we're just finishing up the last few things before we bring it down to the--"

"I'm looking for my sister Bhria," He told, meeting her eyes. "Do you know where she is?"

"Bhria..." The Kischmir frowned a little and bit her lip, glanced around the busy kitchen like him. "I can't remember... maybe check out back, in storage chamber? Maybe she's fetching some herbs."

Byhron gave her a grateful nod and then headed out back, his pace hurried. "Bhria?"

He heard footsteps as he stepped into the windowless, dark and dry storage room, coming from behind one of the thick shelves. He followed the sound, but then stopped up when he rounded the corner.

"You followed me this time," Ahrron flatly told as he searched through the shelves for something, sending him a fleeting glance. "Bhria's not here, she's with the Dralan's Mihrisa."

Byhron gritted his teeth, but didn't say a word. Instead he just turned on his heel and begun walking back. Hundreds and hundreds of rooms... always there...

"Asshole."

He froze up. Nailed to the ground, his anger from yesterday roared up again and bloomed to the surface. "What did you just call me?"

"An asshole," The male unashamedly and unafraid voiced again, despite still wearing his purple bruises from last time he spoke out of turn. "An asshole who can't even fucking utter a simple thank you because of his big, fat ego. I don't get how you and your sister can be related. She's the sweetest, most gentle thing to walk this earth and--"

"Don't you dare talk about my sister," Byhron had spun around so fast that last night's hangover seemed like water against the way his head spun now. Only this time, it was spinning with anger. He stalked up to the male and towered above him, seeing him not even flinch. "You stay away from her, you hear me? Keep your hands off her."

The male insulted him by chuckling at his threat, even shook his head as he just continued to search through the jars on the shelf. "We are friends, and she likes me. And I like her." He slowly turned his eyes up to Byhron's. "And I won't stay away from her, she likes my company."

Byhron snapped. The wrath in him exploded like a volcano and had him gripping the male by his uniform, throwing him up against the shelf that shook at his force. The jars rattled and the flasks of different oils threatened to topple over as he caught the male there, held him by his throat.

"I will end you!" He roared into his face, his fangs elongating. "I have had enough of your fucking interference in my life, but now you speak to me of my sister?" The anger felt like burning ice in his veins, boiling inside him, making him shake. "I know you helped her after she just got here, but I will forget that if I learn you've laid a hand on her," He growled, seeing the male clench his jaw. "I know exactly what your kind is."

The Kathmir narrowed his eyes at him. "Oh yeah? And what kind is that?"

"The kind that preys on the fragile females," He snarled up at him. "You play nice to her in the beginning, gain her trust, then lure her into your bed and then leave her used like a whore after you're done with her. But I will kill you before you even get the chance."

The male didn't just chuckle this time - he straight out laughed at him. In his face. Byhron was literally in so much shock, all he could do was stare as the Kathmir finally gathered his composure and looked down at him. "You have no idea what kind I am, you poor, blind asshole." And then he leaned down and pressed his lips against Byhron's.

The world seemed to stop for three long seconds as Byhron's body went into a freeze at the sensation of Ahrron's lips against his. They were soft, yet rough as they claimed his, slid his tongue over the seams.

But then the world jolted forward, and Byhron hurled Ahrron away.

Roaring, he throttled the male into the ground and heard as he landed with a hard grunt, before he jumped the male himself and slammed his fist into his head. It knocked back against the stone floor and broke his nose, blood instantly pouring out. The male let out a sharp hiss of pain, but didn't fight him as he kept beating him to a pulp.

"You fucking miscreature!" Byhron roared at him, his knuckles bloodied as he continued punching the Kathmir's face. "Don't - ever - touch - me - again! Fucking vhral!"

As he delivered his last punch, the male grew still beneath him. Not because he had passed out, but because that last word echoed throughout the room like an eternal battlehorn through a valley.

Byhron saw his green his look up at him through swollen, purple eyes, saw the dead glare in them. He didn't say a word as Byhron got off him, shaking and feeling the blood tickle off his hands.

"Stay away from me," He whispered to the Kathmir that didn't move from the floor, only closed his eyes and let that one word consume him.

Byhron then turned on his feet, just as a Kischmir showed up around the corner of the shelf and laid eyes on him. Her eyes then fell to Ahrron who laid bloodied on the ground, causing a startled gasp to squeak from her. Her hand came over her mouth and she stared in fright at Byhron who wrenched his eyes away from her and walked straight past her. He ran from the kitchen area, didn't look back as he entered the open ground again and bolted for the barracks. He made it to his chamber and slammed the door shut, then collapsed against it, shaking to his very bone.

He saw his knuckles, the skin scraped and his bone peaking through, but he didn't feel any pain as he had been beating that male up, didn't feel any pain now as he watched his bloodied hands.

All he could think about was the male's lips against his, molding against his own stiff ones as he kissed him in a way no female had ever kissed him before. The roughness of his lips, yet the surprising softness...

He shoved the thought from his head and let out a choked sound as he turned his eyes down to the floor, but then caught sight of something else.

A bulging hardness raging within his pants.