Byhron

"...and right when she about to reach her pitch, I flipped her over and drove into her from behind. I swear, she came apart so hard, her pussy is probably still throbbing today."

The males all howled as they walked into armory to dispose of their gear and triumphantly patted Zheri - the male who was telling the rodomontade tale of his latest conquest - on his shoulder and back, as if he was a champion for getting the female to her climax. Byhron didn't take part in the laughter as always, seen as though the story did anything but exhilarate him. The female had probably consented to the act, but Byhron still didn't very much like the idea of her getting taking that way. It just seemed... wrong.

"If we go by how her walk is this evening, she's going to be begging for another piece of this tonight," Zheri boastfully proclaimed and palmed his codpiece. "Who else is getting some tonight, hm? Come on, get up off your cocks and put them where they belong!"

"Ey, looks like Byhron's got himself an admirer!" Someone bellowed.

"Huh?" Byhron who had been in the middle of the task of removing his boots and mostly tuning out their talk, now lifted his head when he heard his name getting mentioned. "What do you mean?"

"Look'ee here!" Someone shouted. Byhron turned in his seat and found right on top of his chest, the one with all his gear, a folded note and a red rose lied neatly and inexplicably and awaited him.

A collective wolf howl and roll of whistles ran through the armory, one that had Byhron shooting to his feet and stalking towards his chest. The males all immediately tackled him and went for the note as well, all wanting to read it before Byhron, whom they all knew was no Kischmir-collector.

"Who is she?!" Someone whopped as his note was snatched away before him. Byhron growled and throttled through all the males who kept shoving him and playfully passed the note around.

"A note and a red rose!" Zheri laughed as the note got passed on to him. "Damn Byh, you must've given it to her good!"

"Give me the fucking note!" Byhron growled when the males now held him back and Zheri unfolded it. "Now!"

But Zheri just laughed and read the note loudly for all to hear. "Byhron - I won't forget what you did. I owe you my life. A." The whole room piped down expectantly as Zheri looked up with a slick smirk. "Who's A?"

Byhron went completely rigid as ice flooded his veins.

I won't forget what you did. I owe you my life. A.

- Ahrron.

He didn't. Sweet Miss, he didn't. But he had. Byhron could hardly fathom that the Kathmir had come here and left him that note and a rose? What the hell? And a red one at that.

While white roses represented all that was pure, innocent and holy, a red rose represent all things sinful; desire, lust, craving and blood. However, it also - in some translations - represented devotion or expressed one's very essence, life. As in, someone who gave them their life or deserved it. Ahrron had tried to convey that in the red rose, but had he not considered how it could be misinterpreted entirely?

"Give me that note," Byhron snarled again and now ripped himself free of the hands that held him back. He charged up to Zheri, snatched the note from him, as well as picked up the delicate rose on his chest. Without paying attention to the dirty whops, howls and mocking comments flying from the males behind him, he stormed out of the armory and aimfully charged towards the servant quarters.

This was unacceptable. He needed to set things straight with the male whom he knew had been released yesterday and demoted to kitchen duty. Gossip went fast in a castle, which was why he needed to settle this once and for all with the male who thought he owed him his life.

Barging into the kitchen, he didn't expect to find the one person he was looking for to be the only one there. Then again, it was late at night and most of the castle was heading to bed. However, there Ahrron stood by a sink with soap up to his sleeves as he washed one dirty dish after another with a bitter face. He looked even more black and blue than what he did in the dungeon, but the swelling had at least fallen some. By the sound of the door getting brutally smashed open, the male whipped around and saw Byhron stalking up towards him. His eyes widened.

"Byh--"

That was as far as he got before Byhron had grabbed him by the throat and shoved him violently. Ahrron stumbled back but caught footing, coughing and clutching his throat. But Byhron didn't grant it any thought. He was just there to get one thing straight.

"What the hell is this?" He growled and held up the combined rose and note.

Ahrron rubbed his throat a little, but clenched his jaw when he saw what Byhron held in hand. "My thanks. You saved my life."

"Yeah, don't make me regret it," Byhron replied. He was shaking with rage. What would possess a male to do a thing like this, leave a rose and note?

"I just wanted to say thank you and let you know..." Ahrron curtly replied, "That I owe you a favor."

"You owe me nothing."

"I owe you everything."

"Fine, you want to do me a favor?" Byhron growled and took an intimidating step closer. "Stay the hell out of my life and don't speak to me ever again."

Ahrron gritted his teeth when Byhron glared down at him, then nodded stiffly and ran a hand through his brown locks. "Fine. If that's what you want."

"It is. And if you ever do this again," Byhron lifted the rose to the Kathmir's face, "I'll end your pathetic, dishwashing life, promise or no promise to my sister." With that, he crunched the rose in his hand and broke the delicate petals that now fell to the ground. Ahrron didn't move a muscle. He didn't even flinch.

Byhron therefore glared one last time at the male as a warning, but then spun around on his feet and stalked out, back to the barracks - back to where he belonged.

- Far away from this deranged Kathmir.

Leyla

It wasn't until nightfall that the Dralan returned. It was long after dinner time, so Leyla had dined alone for the first time since she got there. Bhria had stopped by with the food and talked to her, tried to cheer her up a little when Leyla told her about the news of the potential Dralaq. She had been shocked, but then proceeded to show her the good in all of it.

"At least... at least after its done, you'll be able to return to being a Kischmir. With me! We will have so much fun together and we will be able to talk all the time!"

While that idea made her happy, it still didn't make Leyla feel any better about it all. She didn't want to be separated from the Dralan, he was her protector. It was selfish of her to want to be with him, not to mention ludicrous. He was the Dralan and she was but a Bahk. She could never be with him. Of course he could take her as her mistress, but Leyla didn't want that. She wanted it all or nothing at all. She had always believed that the naked body should only belong to the person who fell in love with your naked soul.

- The Dralan didn't want her soul, just her body and blood - and that wasn't good enough for Leyla.

When that didn't cheer her up, Bhria had then told her the good news about Ahrron - that he was alive and had returned to being a Kathmir, though had been demoted to dishwasher and was not allowed to leave the kitchen at any time during the day. It was his punishment. The kitchen was for females only, so his position there was highly humiliating. He was a laughingstock between all the Kathmirs, but Bhria told that the females were being kind to him.

Leyla was happy to know that he was alive and that the Dralan had let him go back to work, even if it was only to make an example out of him; he would probably work in that kitchen till the day he died or quit, but at least he was alive and had a shot of the happiness he deserved. And if what Bhria told was true, that the Kischmirs were being kind to him, then he should have easy picks when it came to finding a female he liked.

She wished it could be like that for herself, too.

But alas. There she was, in the Dralan's chamber, sitting quietly at the foot of the bed, waiting for him to return. She couldn't go to sleep without him, wasn't sure she was allowed to or if he wanted to speak to her before they went to bed. She didn't think he wanted to, but she could always hope. Besides, she was curious; she had to know what was going to happen now that a potential Dralaq had been found. What was she supposed to do?

Right as she thought that, the door to the Dralan's chamber finally opened. He came in wearing a tired face, but his body showed strength and determination nonetheless. His eyes landed on her as she immediately stood up and curtsied, welcomed him back. He gave a long, hard look.

"Go to bed."

Leyla looked up, stunned. Was that it? Was he not going to say more, share anything?

Oh, but he did have to, did he? He was the Dralan. He only had to do what he wanted to.

Leyla therefore quietly toed over to the side of the bed she usually slept on, slipped under the covers and curled up on her side, facing away from him. She heard him discard his clothes and boots behind her, then felt the bed dip heavily as he slipped under the covers as well and exhaustedly sighed. Leyla thought that was it for tonight, but he surprised her by speaking.

"We leave for Amascahr tomorrow to meet the potential Dralaq. I've arranged that your Kischmir accompanies us. We leave at dawn, so make sure you get a good night's sleep."

Leyla's mouth fell open, but of course the Dralan couldn't see that. The lights in the room flickered and went out on his command, leaving the room bathed in darkness and utter silence.

Leyla was speechless. Tomorrow when the sun arose, her and the Dralan, along with Bhria and probably fifty other Lathras, would travel to Amascahr to meet this female who could become his Dralaq. Leyla had to follow him obediently like a pet of his, which truly, these days, was all she was. She knew the duties of a Mihrisa weren't going to be easy when he first took her in, but this was something she never thought she'd have to overcome.

Her heart ached in her chest and tears pressed in the corner of her eyes as she squeezed then shut and clutched her hands to her sternum. Rivers of hurt flowed within her which she was forced to keep silent. Her opinion and feelings had no place in the Dralan's business, so no matter how much it pained her, she would have to do what he said.

That's why, with the last of her voice left, Leyla quietly whispered into the dark room, the only words he truly wanted to hear from her; "As you wish, my lord."

Dohmenic

Upon the dawn of morning, he was saddled up and ready to go. The Dralan glanced over the valley from the hill that he had built his castle on and stoically admired the view.

He remembered it like it was yesterday. How each rocked had weighed. How the soil had felt running through his fingers. How the woodwork and iron had calloused his hands.

It was of course, many years ago. The stones were weathered by storms and browned by the sun now. Nevertheless, his castle had never looked more beautiful.

That was, until he saw his Mihrisa come walking out of it, wrapped up in a white shawl that covered her bare arms and face from the sun and anyone else who didn't have the rights to gaze upon her. She was being escorted safely by Callath who walked her carefully down the stairs, making sure she didn't trip in her long, white dress, while her Kischmir followed dutifully five steps behind her. Once his Mihrisa stepped out into the opaque morning light of the sun peaking over the mountains, her golden hair turned even more vibrant than what it already was.

Now that was a sight to behold.

As if she could feel his eyes lingering on her, his Mihrisa flipped her own ones up to his and their gaze briefly met. Hers widened in short surprise, as if not expecting to see him mounted on his stallion, but hidden away for protective reasons. But alas, he preferred to lead his own journeys and hiding was a coward's move; he had nothing to be afraid of.

Callath helped his Mihrisa into the carriage she was to travel in, then afterwards her Kischmir, then closed the door safely and locked it with a bolt. There were windows inside for her to look out, but as for her safety, the locks had to be there. The Dralan wouldn't have it any other way.

As Callath secured the last few things and then came up to him to let him know all was ready, the Dralan nodded sternly. "Make sure that the Mihrisa has all she will need for her trip. Keep her hydrated and see to that she has enough to eat. I don't want her losing any weight."

"Yes, sire," Callath bowed. He then walked away and made the arrangements.

Their caravan was finally ready to move. "Prepare to ride!" The Dralan shouted to his all Lathas who then mounted their horses loyally. His staff - two dozen Kathmirs and a three Kischmirs - all got seated on a wagon, making sure the Kischmirs were protected the most.

"Onwards!" The Dralan bellowed now and raised his hand to set them into motion. "We shall have made it to the woods before nightfall! Keep your eyes open and be on guard at all times! If I see even one Latha lower his weapon, I shall make sure all of you will never be able to hold your goddamn cocks again!" He warned, harshly. He then kicked his horse into motion and began their march. Everyone else followed, and so the two-day journey to meet his potential Dralaq began.

Leyla

Leyla leaned back into the seat of the carriage, closed her eyes and tried not to think about where she was going. It was all too much. Her duty was to just shut up and be quiet and do as the Dralan commanded. Therefore, she sat idly inside the carriage as it rocked back and forth over the bumpy terrain. She watched the landscape pass by her and admired the beauty of it all. Now that she wasn't running or fleeing for her life, she had the time to truly appreciate the Dralan's kingdom. How beautiful it was.

Green, yellow and red fields, some with flowers, others with crops, colored the landscape in rainbows of colors. Deep valleys and tall hills, giant lakes and small ponds created a beautiful terrain. Animals peered out every now and then, a dear, a few rabbits, some squirrels - Leyla even swore she saw a fox, which was a rare sight in the daylight. Hours went by and they passed the outskirts of some smaller villages where she saw children as well as adults rush to the fences to watch their caravan ride by. Everyone wanted to catch a glimpse of their Dralan, see his mighty glory.

"It's amazing, is it not?" Bhria said with a little smile as she too gazed out of the window and looked at all the Bahk's trying to catch a glimpse of their Dralan. "Their devotion. Their love to him. I think no matter how much they love him, he will always love them more."

"How so?" Leyla raised a brow. Affections and compassion were not the first things that popped into mind when she thought about the Dralan. Dominant and powerful, now that was more like it.

"What kind of Dralan wouldn't love his people if he is willing to risk his own life to travel to Amascahr, south of Plagahris, to meet a Dralaq he's not sure could even be eligible for him?"

Now Leyla had to frown. "What's there to risk about that? He's the Dralan, what does he have to fear?"

Bhria's eyes widened. "Don't you know about... about..."

"About what?" Leyla curiously asked.

Bhria gulped fearsomely. "Not what. Who. Have you never heard of... Phlague?"

Phlague. The way the female spoke the name told Leyla she should be scared. And in a way, she was. The name brought chills down her back. She had never heard of anyone named Phlague. "Who is that?"

"He's the male who is causing all this mayhem, all the Mihr hunts, the terror!" Bhria timidly told and clutched herself. Leyla could tell she was terrified. "He's the leader behind it all, a male who has sworn death upon the Dralan. He lives up in the mountains of Plagahris where he captures young, innocent females. Mihrs. He's doing it so the Dralan can't feed and thereby grows weak. So that he can kill him."

Leyla gasped and placed a hand over her mouth in horror. She didn't want to believe this. How could anyone be foolish enough to go against the Dralan? Why would anyone even do it? He was a just leader. A stern, but just leader. What would possess another male to go against his reign? Males had it the easiest! They could do or have anything or anyone they wanted - why would anyone rage against that? Leyla simply didn't understand.

But now she was scared, too. If there really was a male out to kill the Dralan and they were traveling to a place south of Plagahris where he resided, Leyla realized she was in grave danger. Suddenly all the Dralan's security protocols made sense; why she couldn't leave his room, why she couldn't talk, look or touch another male. You never knew who could be a spy. Even the ones closest to him, like Callath, could be a spy - someone who was trying to get close to him and kill him.

Leyla shuddered. Paranoia began to grow in her head and now she questioned every friendship she had made since coming here. Who could be trusted, except for the Dralan?

"You shouldn't be scared, Mihrisa," Bhria told her when she saw the pale look on her face and the worry shine in her eyes. "Nobody that the Dralan doesn't trust is allowed close to you. He will always be close to you. To protect you," She assured her.

Leyla closed her eyes, feeling tears press in the corners. "Until he mates that female."

To that, Bhria didn't say anything. Leyla knew she had no reply because it was the truth; the moment he mated that female and she became his Dralaq, all his focus on her would disappear. He would cater on his Dralaq's hand and foot, shower her with his touches. She would feed him in his lap, she would be the one sleeping in his bed. And she would be the one to receive his love, his semen, his blood.

And Leyla... Leyla would be nothing. Nothing to him, nothing to the world, nothing. 

For what was a female without a strong male?

"Mihrisa?" Bhria now carefully asked her after a moment of silence. "Can I... ask you something?"

Blinking the tears out of her eyes, Leyla looked at the sweet female across from her. "Of course."

"Did you... finish your feed with Ahrron?" When Leyla's eyes widened, Bhria quickly continued, "I'm merely asking to know if you will need to feed soon again. If you didn't finish your feed, you didn't get sated thoroughly. I don't want you collapsing again, that's all. I don't think I could handle the worry... plus, the Dralan..." Bhria chewed her lip and let the sentence hang in the air. But she didn't need to finish it. Leyla knew what she meant.

The Dralan would go nuts and probably kill everyone around him if she pulled a stunt like that again. Look at what happened to poor Ahrron. Leyla hadn't actually seen him and Bhria wouldn't tell her how he looked, but Leyla knew deep in her heart that he had to be wounded and bruised. She had seen scuff marks on the Dralan's hands that morning he came to punish her. She had been too terrified to put notice into it, but now that she did, she could connect the dots.

And truth be told, lately Leyla had been feeling the slight itch in her throat. It was sweet of Bhria to worry about her and her needs. Leyla knew she would need to feed soon, but with everything right now, with the new Dralaq candidate and this whole trip, she didn't want to remind the Dralan of her need to feed and what happened last time. She didn't want to burden him any further. However, she wasn't foolish enough to let it get as far as it did the last time. But for now, she could survive easily. The itch in her throat was merely an itch.

"I'm fine for now," Leyla assured her friend with a little smile. "Don't worry. I won't let it get out of hand again, I promise. But right now, there are more important things than my thirst. Don't think about it."

Bhria didn't say anything, but judging how she kept chewing on her lip, Leyla knew she wanted to. But Leyla was too tired to concern herself with what it was. She knew her friend would try and convince her to talk to the Dralan which would only be a bad idea. The timing was wrong. She would eventually bring it up with him, just not today or tomorrow. But soon.

The trip continued on for hours while the landscape changed outside the window. Occasionally, they held a pause to feed and water the horses, but not ten minutes later, they would be on the road again. Leyla wasn't allowed to leave the carriage even though she desperately needed to stretch her legs. It was another security protocol that, after learning about Phlague, didn't bother her as much anymore as it should. She therefore dutifully sat inside the carriage while Bhria stretched her legs and petted the horses.

Finally, when nightfall came around and it got too dark and dangerous to carry on, the Dralan ordered the caravan to a halt and told them to set up camp for the night. The Lathras and Kathmirs worked together to set up large tents and building a bonfire that would light up the entire clear patch of forest they had set up camp in. Wagons were unpacked, killed animals got prepped for cooking, and the horses were once again fed and watered and brushed down for the night. Everyone was tired, but nobody failed on the orders that were handed out to them.

Leyla was brought from the carriage to a large tent that had been set up for her and the Dralan, wherein one could easily dance around or do summersaults if one so pleased. It was big, red and golden and had the most luxurious furniture inside; a large bed plaided with warm, thick pelts, and fat pillows that were stuffed with soft feathers - exactly fit for a Dralan.

"Food will be brought to you shortly," Callath informed her before leaving her. He was the one who escorted her there. He backed out of the tent and left Leyla alone for a moment.

Exhausted and tired from sitting still inside a carriage all day, Leyla stretched her limbs and ran her fingers through her hair that was in slight knots from being braided. She rubbed her stiff shoulders and then looked to the giant, inviting bed that called out to her. She was ready to sleep the minute she got some food in her stomach.

"Mihrisa."

Leyla gasped and spun around on her foot when she heard the Dralan's voice. He had walked in without her hearing and now stood by the entrance, his skin dirty and his outfit worn; The marks of someone who had been on a horseback for a whole day.

Leyla immediately bowed her head in respect and curtsied as he walked closer. "My lord."

"I trust the trip has been pleasant for you so far."

She gulped nervously and replied, "I've been taken great care of, my lord, thank you."

"Good. I will feed from you now."

Of course. She really should enjoy doing that as much as she could since she probably wouldn't be doing it anymore soon. He had already begun growing colder towards her. Less caring. She could feel it.

Leyla shut her eyes, opened them again, but kept them lowered on the floor as she spoke. "How do you want me? Turned away like last time so you cannot gaze upon me?"

The minute the words left her mouth, Leyla gasped and slapped a hand in front of her mouth. She saw the Dralan freeze up entirely, his body turn rigid. His face changed into a sneer and he took a threatening step closer. "What did you just say?"

Sweet Miss. She knew she had screwed up big this time. The words had just flown from her mouth before she could stop them. Her feelings had taken control of her vocal chord for one brief moment and voiced her hurt without any camouflage or sensitivity. Now her mistake could cost her everything she had fought to protect.

"I-I-I--" She stuttered, but couldn't find the words to speak. When the Dralan took another threatening step closer, she involuntarily took one back. She had never seen him like this before; so dominant, possessed. "I-I-I, f-forgive m-me, my lord, I didn't--"

"Be. Quiet," He growled out the two words in a deadly voice. Leyla trembled and gulped as he came closer. Those electric eyes flashed with something primal. "You disrespect me. Is that how you like to treat your Dralan?"

"No, Sweet Miss, no," Leyla anxiously said. Why couldn't she just have kept her mouth shut? "P-please forgive me, I-I had no right to--"

"I should punish you for speaking out of turn," He hissed and then faster than lighting, grabbed her hair and yanked her head back up when she shrunk beneath his gaze. Leyla let out a whimper and looked scared up at the Dralan as he towered above her, glared down at her with his nostrils flaring and his long fangs extended. "Do you want me to do that, Mihrisa? Do you want me to punish you?"

Her heart started beating out of control. Her breath grew short. Her mouth opened and closed, but not a word passed her lips. Only a strangled sound that died on her tongue.

"I asked you a question, Mihrisa," The Dralan growled at her again and leaned closer until he was but a hairs breadth away from her lips. "Should. I. Punish. You?"

Leyla couldn't think. She was going dizzy from not breathing for too long, but how could she when he was standing this close? When she could feel his strength and hard body being pressed up against hers, feel the grip he had on her hair, a delicious pull that hurt, yet somehow didn't. It made her pulse race and her heart beat faster, but she realized she wasn't scared.

She wanted this.

She was just about to open her mouth when something - or more likely someone - opened the tent behind them and stepped in - then let out a loud curse.

"Shit. Sire." It was Callath, Leyla realized without moving her eyes from the Dralan's that were still drilling into hers, although now they clouded over with anger. "Sire, step back. She's a Mihrisa, don't do it."

The Dralan didn't move a single inch, instead he tightened his grip on her hair and growled lowly. He was about to explode with rage.

"For fuck sake, Dohmenic," Callath snapped and now grabbed his shoulder and yanked him away. "Back off, she's innocent. Don't contaminate her."

The Dralan now growled loudly and tried to brush his hand off, but Callath only yanked his arm even harder, dragged him away from Leyla who was frozen in shock.

"She is my Mihrisa," The Dralan growled, wrath steaming off his body. "I can do with her as I fucking please."

"Yeah, but if you do, you won't have anyone to feed from anymore," Callath persisted and continued pulling him away from her. "Don't ruin it, Dom. Just hang on a little longer, we'll be in Amascahr tomorrow where your future Dralaq could be waiting. Just back off for tonight."

The Dralan slowly seemed to let his friend's words get through to him, even if he resisted the urge to punch him to the ground for saying them. He finally allowed Callath to drag him off Leyla who exhaled loudly and finally managed to breathe.

The Dralan gave her a hard, warning stare, but then turned to Callath who gritted his teeth when his King stared lethally down at him. "Tell me what to do again and I'll throw you off a cliff, Callath."

Callath gave a small nod, but didn't seem all that terrified. "Yes, sire."

The Dralan scoffed at him, but then shot a last glare at Leyla before he stalked out of the tent angrily. Frustrated.

Callath sighed and pushed a hand through his darkblond, ear-lengthy hair and shot a look towards Leyla. "Don't worry, Mihrisa. He just needs to calm himself down. I brought you your food. You should eat some."

Leyla nodded stiffly, but in truth, she was perhaps the one who needed to calm down. Food was suddenly the last thing on her mind as Callath excused himself and walked out of the tent as well. In fact, there was only one thing currently running through her mind like a wild river that would never stop rushing.

The Dralan's name was Dohmenic.