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She had first felt the tingle of her body’s interest during her second meeting with the Garlean--she’d been too injured after the first for her body to properly respond. That second time, though, when she knelt on the ground before him, gasping for breath as the prince loomed over her and purred about survival--she had felt wet , and not just because of the pouring rain. She had been fortunate that help had arrived then, or she might have been lost to the cause.
Zenos had strolled off. The rain had washed away her burgeoning hormones.
But now, on the palace roof, amongst a carpet of pink and red flowers, her body would not have its most basic needs denied.
It had started below, in the throne room. A fierce battle that she and her allies had barely survived. Her allies--thank the Twelve for them, she did not want to think of what might have happened to her otherwise. Zenos had gotten close, too close perhaps, enough for the blade of his sword to glance off her rapier. He had been focused on her, eyes wide, teeth bared, cheeks flushed with the thrill of the blood dance he had been pursuing for months.
She had been overcome with a flash of heat in her belly and a weakness in her knees. Zenos had shoulder checked her into the wall.
Hopefully her allies had taken the moan that escaped her as one of pain and not something else.
Zenos had fled to the roof. No, she thought hazily, he had not fled. He had merely opted for a different dance floor. He was still quite able and sturdy on his feet. She stood on the steps, watching as he scuffed his boot heels on the stonework.
She felt that spike of heat in her belly again, and it knifed its way down to the junction of her thighs. She had to lock her knees in order not to sink to them. Ah, yes, of course her body would’ve chosen a man like the prince. Though admittedly not much taller than she, he still towered over her compeers in raw physical power.
And that was just the sort of thing a Roegadyn was inclined to seek out in a mate.
He would be able to handle her where all else had failed. He would be able to satisfy her and not complain later if she accidentally cracked his ribs. It was just a pity that she would likely still have to kill him when all was said and done. He was still the Garlean prince. Still the enemy.
“There you are, eikon-slayer,” Zenos called, his words escaping from him in a throaty growl. “I’ve been--” He stopped, and she saw his nostrils flare. His head tipped forward slightly, and she could hear his armor shift as his limbs tensed. His lips pulled wide into a grin, and if she’d been closer she was quite certain she could have counted his teeth.
She wanted his teeth on her skin and his--
No, no, she told herself. He has to prove himself. Earn it. That is, if he’s even willing to give it, as he seems so persistently inclined only to fight.
Zenos chuckled. “My, my.” His lips pulled the two short words to an improbable length, and as he chuckled again--a bit breathier--she saw the blue of his irises nearly consumed by his pupils.
His body was definitely interested, even if his brain hadn’t entirely gotten that far.
In the back of her mind she tried to remind herself to be careful--not just because Zenos was incredibly dangerous, but because certainly the Scions would not be terribly far behind her. And if not they, then some Imperial forces. It was a weak, flittering thought as she took a step closer to the prince. She only went that far before she stopped and watched as he tugged the gauntlet from his left hand and tossed it aside.
“This is--this is new,” he murmured. He flexed his fingers. “This sensation is… wholly new to me, champion of the savages. Is this your doing?”
She took another step. “That depends on what you are feeling.” The closer she got, the more she could smell him--steel and blood and a potent musk that was uniquely the Garlean’s.
“A…desire.” His darkened eyes found hers. His katana rattled on the stonework as he tossed it aside. Zenos tugged the gauntlet from his right hand and threw that away with the first.
She offered: “To breed?”
Zenos nodded sharply and nearly bit at the air between them. “Yes!”
She took another step down the path, and saw his nostrils flare once more. “Tell me, prince of the Garleans, what do you know of a woman’s cycles?”
For a moment he looked perplexed, and she could see him trying to maintain a clear head. “Ah--cycles? A heat once every one or t-two months, followed by bleeding if the woman is not--not--”
“Roegadyn women are different. That’s why we are so few in number.” She carefully tossed her rapier into the grass, and his eyes flicked to follow its movement before returning to her.
“How?”
“Our bodies are more demanding. Picky, even. We will never, ever enter a heat until we come into proximity of a male that our body deems worth its time and effort.” As she moved closer to him she had to stop and take a steadying breath. That only added fuel to her body’s fire, and she struggled to stay focused. “We need a mate that is big and strong and capable, and one whose aether is compatible to our own. Not just any stud will do.”
His brows twitched at the word ‘aether’, but Zenos did not acknowledge this otherwise. He puffed his chest out a bit when he realized what her words meant. “And my body has responded in kind.”
“It does seem so.”
“However.” She released the fastenings on her red leather coat and pulled it off. She tossed it aside, leaving herself in just her trousers and boots, and a thin cotton tunic that was clinging to the sweat on her skin. She curled her fingers into her palms and raised her fists. “You will have to prove yourself truly worthy of my time.”
“Ah.” His eyes gleamed. “A sport I understand.”
She waited, as patiently as she could stand to, while Zenos stripped himself out of his heavy armor. He stopped when he was down to a thin black tunic, a pair of black carbonweave leggings, and his rattling greaves and boots. Zenos nudged his armor into a neat pile on the grass. She was glad that they were out in the open air--even as it was, the scent of him was nearly overwhelming. When he faced her again, her eyes immediately traveled down his front and did not stop until they passed below his waist. The outline of his manhood was plainly visible through the tight fabric.
“Eyes up, champion,” he teased. Zenos raised his hands. His long fingers grabbed at the air. “Shall we dance?”
She nodded and looked at him, even though a hungry voice in her head said that she knew Zenos was strong, and certainly she could just just forgo the contest and sit on his-- But, no, she had to do this, more for his understanding than her own. The prince needed to know that if he touched her, it was because she allowed it to happen.
He threw himself at her fist first. She leapt out of the way and grabbed his wrist as he passed. Surprise registered on his face when she held fast and yanked hard, nearly managing to pull him off his feet. She knew immediately that this would be a difficult feat--the two of them were too close in height for her to have that advantage.
His skin burned under her touch.
She pulled him in and twisted his arm behind his back. His free hand was held out for balance, but his fingers were grasping at the empty air. She leaned in, pressing her face into his golden hair for a moment and breathing in his scent. Gods, she just wanted to--
“You’re going to have to do better than that,” she whispered into his ear. He inhaled sharply. She brushed his hair aside and nuzzled at the side of his throat. “You’ll have to catch me to claim me, prince.”
A rattling groan escaped the Garlean as her teeth scraped against his skin. She could feel the excited flutter of his pulse against her tongue.
“You cannot hide from me,” Zenos groaned. “I will find you anywhere.”
She kissed at his throat. “Is that so?”
“Yes,” he hissed out slowly. “I can smell you, my dear prey.”
She tightened the twist on his arm. “And I you.” She shoved him down and vaulted back several fulms, watching and waiting as the prince coughed and rose to his feet.
His pale eyes lit up, bright above his flushed cheeks.
“Run.”
She was happy to oblige. She wanted, needed him to chase her, to catch her and hold her down in the flowers and fuck her and put this fire out--
She took a few steps away, not taking her eyes off the Garlean, trying to keep her focus on him and not the way her soaked smallclothes had begun to rub between her burning skin and leather trousers.
When his lips broke wide into an eager, toothy grin, she turned and sprinted away. Her heart pounded in her ears as she ran--excitement, arousal, little bit of fear--but she could still hear his boots clatter when he began his pursuit.
Zenos did not run, he prowled after her, his pace hurried but still deliberate. She was reminded of the way he moved when he fought--that leisurely movement until the moment he struck. She stopped and leaned against a large stone planter, trying to will the tremble from her legs. When he got close she jumped up and pulled herself onto the top of the planter. Not quite out of his reach, but enough to give him a moment of pause.
“Ah--” He took a deep breath, eyes darting between her form and the flowers. “Red suits you, my friend.” She saw his teeth flash for a moment. “Red. Red mage, aren’t you?” His head tipped back, gauging the height of the planter. He rumbled: “But, you were a dragoon.”
She was surprised he could recall that in their state. “I was, yes--” She gave a little yelp of surprise as his big hands grabbed at the lip of the planter and he lunged upward. She shrieked out a laugh and leapt down, stumbling a few steps forward on the grass before running again.
His hands barely missed her skin.
She cleared half the terrace again--over the carefully laid stones, skipping over the flowerbeds that were too narrow for long legs, boot heels digging into the grass--before stopping. Her lungs felt full of the scent the flowers and of him--the air was almost too thick to breathe. She turned and watched his steady approach. She took a few steps backwards, even though she just wanted to charge him and--
“Ah!!” A cry escaped her as her boot heel hit the edge of one of the sluiceways and she stumbled.
He was upon her immediately, darting forward in a disclosure of his true prowess, one hand grasping her forearm and the other arm curling around her ribcage. Zenos pulled her up and steadied her on her feet.
“Are you all right?” he growled out. She nodded, feeling a fresh flash of warmth on her cheeks.
“I--yes--”
Zenos leaned in and nipped lightly at the air next to her throat. “Musn’t spoil the hunt.”
“Of course not.” She leaned and pressed herself to him, aware of his sweat as much her own.
“Are you done running?” His words rumbled in his chest and sent another jolt through her core. She shook her head.
“No.” She licked her lips. “Thank you.”
Zenos chuckled as he released his hold on her and stepped away. “Do not thank me just yet.”
He politely waved to give her the go-ahead. She continued on, though her feet dragged of their own accord for the first few steps. When she broke into a fresh sprint he followed, giving her no further extra distance. Through the blood pounding in her ears she could hear his footsteps matching her own, and could feel the hungry heat radiating from his body. When they reached the edge of the terrace again she leapt up into one of the decorative trees. The entire tree shuddered when his weight collided with the trunk. Zenos growled and threw his weight against the bark a second time. She laughed as she lost her grip on the branches and was forced to drop down.
She leapt away, but he was close now, and she felt a slight pull as her hair passed through his grasping fingers. Her knees felt weaker as she stumbled after the jump and so she plunged forward into the reflecting pool. The waters of the pool were shallow, barely covering past their ankles, but it was still enough to slow them down. Halfway across the pool Zenos let out another growl and surged forward. He caught her around the waist, and his momentum threw them both off their feet and into the water. The shallows had spent the day basking in the relentless sun and were too warm to be refreshing. She managed to half scramble out of his grip before he renewed it.
They rolled about in the shallow water, each struggling to get an edge over the other. It was nigh impossible--they were just too evenly matched. After a few minutes they broke apart, panting on their backs.
“Are you--are you holding back?” he demanded.
She began to struggle to her feet. “No! I just--it’s so hard to focus--” She yelped as he leapt up and hooked his arms around her waist before flopping back into the water. “Zenos!”
His breath was like bursts of flame against her right ear. “We are evenly matched, you and I. A perfect pair. Doesn’t that please you?” He slid a hand down her damp front and cupped at her breast, fingers rubbing through the drenched fabric until he found her nipple and gave it a tug. “It pleases me greatly. I’ve sought one as you for so long.” He growled into her ear, fingers teasing at her trapped nipple. “My perfect prey.”
She squirmed against him, but did not attempt to break free. She was pleased with his efforts and did not wish to continue running. Better still, when she shifted her weight against his, the hard length of his cock pressed between her thighs and her brain was settling on the decision that this was a very good thing--
“You may-” She broke off in a gasp as his tongue traced the edge of her earlobe.
“What’s that?”
“You may claim me,” she said. “But only because I have permitted you to.”
He bore his teeth again. “Is that so?”
“Yes! I will take you as my mate!”
His breath huffed against her neck. “Then I will take you as mine.” Zenos bit down on the thin fabric of her tunic and tore it with a sharp twist of his head. Then his mouth returned to her skin.
Her body sang as the Garlean’s canines sank into her shoulder.
Oh yes. He would do. He would do nicely.
Zenos rolled them over, nearly pressing her into the shallow water with his weight. His hands roamed down her sides until they reached her trousers. Trembling fingers fumbled with the lacing in the front, and Zenos gave a frustrated growl before snapping the leather cords. He tugged the rest of her trousers down until she could move her knees apart.
Zenos hilted himself in her with his first, piercing thrust.
She yelped and bucked against him, but the prince’s weight against hers was enough to keep her in place.
“Oh, Twelve--!”
“There are no gods here,” Zenos groaned in her ear. “Just you and I.”