Part Six: Knocking Them Over

Chapter Seventeen

ELENA

The sound of morning birds chirping roused me. Destiny curled up closer to me in her sleep, murmuring softly. I relaxed in my position, savoring the feeling of her lying partially atop of me, her thigh pressed against my morning wood. A familiar hand caressed my cheek. I looked up to see two burning orange irises staring down at me.

“Hi Elena.” Yavara giggled, “I see you made a new friend.”

“Yavara!” I exclaimed.

“Shh,” Yavara whispered, putting a finger to my lips, “I don’t want to wake the sleeping beauty in your arms. Where did you find her?”

“You don’t recognize her?” I smiled slyly.

“I think I would remember a woman who looked like that.”

“Destiny,” I cooed into the sparkled woman’s ear, “it’s time to wake up.”

Destiny’s eyes fluttered open, and glanced up at Yavara. She gave me a tired smile. “I told you she’d come back. Hi Yavara.”

“Destiny,” Yavara smiled, extending a hand to the woman, “I don’t believe we’ve met.”

Zander said something telepathically, and Yavara jolted in surprise. Then she broke into laughter.

“Zander, you whore! You transformed into a woman just to fuck my girlfriend?”

“And she was fantastic.” I said, squeezing Destiny’s ass, “Best fuck I’ve ever had.”

“Are you trying to make me jealous?” Yavara crinkled her nose at me.

“Is it working?”

“A little. You cheating cunt.” Yavara sniggered.

“I’m sure you and Prestira were paradigms of virtue while we were gone.” Destiny yawned, “Speaking of which, where is my ex-wife?”

Yavara’s face slackened, the mirth dwindling from her.

“Yavara?” Destiny pressed, her voice edging slightly.

“She’s with Titus, helping unload the ships.” Yavara bit her lip, her orange eyes glimmering, “Zander, there’s something you need to know. We were attacked by the Sea Serpents on our way here. They captured her.” Yavara swallowed, “It took me a day to get to her, and by the time I did… it’s… it’s not something I can talk to you about. Prestira’s putting on a brave face for me, but she needs you.”

Destiny transformed in an aura of golden light, becoming Zander Fredeon once again. With a grim air, the naked wizard pulled on his robe, hopped off the hut’s roof, and made his way through the village. Piles of naked revelers were strewn between the huts, their snores sounding from every corner of the village. In the distance, I saw the black sails of the vampire fleet snaking their way up the Knife River, the trailing vessels barely more than dots in the immense fjord of the Gorge.

“Looks like you guys had one hell of a party.” Yavara chuckled.

“It hasn’t been all fun and games.”

“I know. I heard about Sherok.”

I looked up at her, confused. “How?”

Yavara recounted everything that had happened to her and Prestira since that day we’d been separated. I’d already heard much of it from Zander, and noted how Yavara sugarcoated the part about framing her rescue party. When she got to the part where Prestira and her joined Titus, I held up a hand.

“Pause.” I said, “Now repeat what you just said, but slowly.”

“I’m a vampire now.” Yavara said plainly.

I glanced up at the morning sun, shining without filter in its six-o-clock position. “Cool.” I said.

“You bitch!” Yavara laughed, punching me in the shoulder (ow). “I would’ve thought a ranger would know what a day-walker is.”

“A fairy tale.”

“Kind of like the Dark Queen?” Yavara batted her eyes mischievously. Then her smile broadened, her eyes alighting with excitement. “Come on, there’s someone you have to meet!”

ZANDER

“…I’ve been through worse, Zander.” Prestira sighed, sitting on a box, “I’ve done worse to myself.”

“You’re not made of stone.” I said, taking her shoulders in my hands. The black-robed vampires unloaded their vessels before the watchful eyes of the orcs, who congregated a safe distance back. The sooner the vampires got back on their ships, the better. We sat beneath a tent used for keeping the hay dry, secluded in the shadows that Prestira now found comfort in. I could sense the vampirism in her, as I could for Yavara, but Prestira’s nocturnal alter-ego was not what compelled her to seek the dark.

“No,” Prestira dropped her head onto my lap, her white eyes puffy with exhaustion, “but I chose to live endlessly, and when I made that pact with myself and stripped my flesh, I knew the kind of life eternity would bring me. It was just pain.” She smiled wearily, “And the pain is over.”

“Some pain leaves scars.” I said softly, running a thumb down her cheek, “Scars no one but you can see.”

Prestira leaned into my touch, resting her cheek against my hand. “They’re but grazes to the wounds you’ve dealt me, Zander.”

“Don’t guilt me.”

“I’m not.” Prestira smiled sadly, “I’m just telling the truth. You ruined me long ago.” Her fingers trailed to her bosom, “There’s a hole here. I feel its ache every day you’re not with me, and its excruciating when you are. But the agony is sweet, and the misery is bitter, so I will choose the former again and again until one of us parts from this world.”

I took her head in both hands, framing her face, my fingers tangling with her black ringlets. “Why is love so cruel to you?”

“I guess I’m just a masochist.” Prestira chuckled softly.

“Will you be OK?”

“If you’re with me.” She whispered. There was a hint of desperation in Prestira’s voice, a touch of pure anguish in her eyes.

I smiled into those eyes. “I guess I’m your sadist then.”

She broke into something that was halfway between a sob and a laugh, and I leaned to press my kiss to her lips. She was fierce with her lips and tongue, but not with the gleeful avarice of lust, but with a mania that seemed to be in defiance of all that had been done to her. I knew before I asked that she wasn’t OK. I hadn’t known until I tasted her pain that she’d been shattered. Oh, Prestira. Why do you always make yourself the martyr? None of us are worth it.

You are. She whispered in my mind. I hadn’t even felt her intrusion, but I noticed it now. Her thoughts probed into my mind, curious and playful. Destiny? I haven’t seen her in ages.

You never cared much for her, try as I might to get you two acquainted. If only Yavara had been around back then.

If I’m being honest, Zander, I could use a woman’s touch right now. Prestira parted from the kiss, her white eyes half-lidded, “I think I’ve had enough male company for quite some time.”

ELENA

If there was one thing that kept a ranger on her toes, it was the knowledge that a vampire was in her patrol sector. It was the very reason rangers never patrolled at night. There’d been times where I’d skirted the dusk hours a little too closely, and saw a pair of red eyes gleaming through the thicket. They followed me as I traversed the sun-lit forest paths, the light narrowing as the sun drifted lower. They followed me all the way to the walls of Castle Thorum, waiting for me to set just one foot in the shadows. So when I saw Patricia leering at me from her black veil, I felt a chill crawl up my spine. She stood over six and a half feet tall, her porcelain flesh cast in an ethereal glow, her crimson irises like rubies in her dramatically-featured face.

“So, you’re Elena.” Patricia extended a gloved hand, “Mom has told me so much about you.”

“You call her ‘Mom?’” I said incredulously, shaking the proffered hand.

She kept her hand locked with mine. “I can call you ‘Daddy’ if you want.”

“Isn’t she wonderful?” Yavara exclaimed dotingly, embracing her blood-daughter. The short dark-elf looked like a midget next to her statuesque ‘daughter,’ the top of her head barely meeting Patricia’s bosom.

I tried to pull my hand away from Patricia. “She definitely takes after you, though I fail to see the resemblance.”

“Oh?” Yavara grinned, then suddenly became pale as death, her orange eyes darkening to red. In a second, she was seven inches taller, her body keeping its perfect proportions, but moving with a deadly grace beneath her now too-short dress. “How about now?” She asked, baring two sparkling fangs.

I gawked at her. “Holy shit.”

“Do you like it?”

My eyes drank her in. “The things you’ll do just to be taller than me.”

Yavara laughed, the sound husky and alluring in her new vocal registers. “Patricia, Elena likes to think she has a sharp tongue, but it’s blunted by her dull wit.”

I grinned back. “I think you’ll find that I use it to great effect, sharp or dull. I’ve been practicing.”

Yavara moistened her blood-red lips. “I’d love to see what you’ve learned. Will you spar with me?”

“I’m a bit handicapped at the moment.” I said, proffering the hand held in Patricia’s iron grip. I couldn’t help but notice the way she extended her index finger to rest it on my ulnar artery. She noticed that I noticed, and her grin broadened beneath her veil, her finger stroking the pulsing vein. “Let me go, Patricia.” I said.

Her red eyes glimmered with amusement, like a cat who’d cornered a mouse and sought to torment it before the end. “Why?” She tittered, lifting her veil, “You don’t need your hand in a duel of tongues.” She licked one fang as she closed the distance between us, “If you don’t mind, I’d like to join in.”

“Patricia…” I said cautiously. I turned to Yavara, but she was gone. No, she was behind me, her cold breath on my neck, her hands on my waist, pulling me into her arms with gentle strength. “I’m sorry Elena, but I do so hate a fair fight.”

“You always did cheat on the practice grounds.” I said, my heart thundering in my ears as Patricia pressed me between herself and her blood-mother, their breasts consuming my face. They lifted me with effortless strength, pinning me between the succulent squish of their bodies.

“It’s called ‘gamesmanship’ when royalty cheats, and it’s poor form to accuse your monarch of it.” Yavara’s soft lips caressed my throat.

“I never bowed to you.”

“Ah, so you’re still a ranger then.” Yavara tongue traced my pulmonary artery, “A spy in my own court, captured and confessed. I’ll show you how I deal with spies, Miss Straltaira.”

“Yavara…” I whispered, my cracking voice betraying my fear.

Yavara paused. “I could tell you that I’m in control of myself, but that would remove the danger from it.” Yavara’s hand sneaked to my front, gently grasping the part of me that was throbbing against Patricia’s belly. “Something tells me you like the danger. Truth be told, my dearest love,” I felt the points of her fangs against my throat, “you drive me so wild, I don’t what I’ll do.”

They moved on opposite sides of my neck, puncturing the flesh, sucking from tender lips. I whimpered, feeling the weakness travel down by spine, accompanying a lassitude that left me numb and accepting. A stupid smile creased my face, and my head became light with intoxication and blood loss. Only one part of me remained tense, and that part curved backward with engorgement as the women eating me began to disrobe, their nudity pressing against me, flesh on flesh, fingers moving together between my cheeks. They parted from my throat in a duet of gasps, their red eyes mostly pupil, their expressions wrought with desire.

“There is something very sweet in your blood, Elena.” Patricia whispered on my lips, her hand joining her mother’s around my cock.

“You’re quite the delicacy.” Yavara whispered affectionately, her fingertips threatening to penetrate me in both holes as she held me aloft by my ass. She smiled into my half-lidded eyes, “I can’t believe you thought I’d actually eat you.”

“You’re not going to? Don’t disappoint me.”

Yavara grinned against my lips, her index finger circling my puckered anus. I whimpered, and her smile curved wickedly. “Why don’t you beg me, Elena? Isn’t that what you said you’d make me do when we got here? Make me beg for you to put it in my ass?” She forked her index and ring finger about my rim, stretching it so that she could tease the opening with her prodding middle finger. My lip pouted with need, and I pressed my cock into Patricia’s belly as I arched my back. Yavara chuckled. “I see you’ve developed a taste for the finer things in life since we last saw each other, my love, my whore.” She touched her forehead to mine, staring heatedly into my eyes, “Beg for it, Elena.”

The words were already on my tongue when a high voice from the threshold screamed, “Master!” In flurry of motion too quick for me to see, the battle of the man-eaters was over, the vampires overwhelmed by the succubi’s superior numbers. I was in Crystal and Ruby’s arms while Diamond and Sapphire enslaved Patricia, and Onyx and Opal subdued Yavara.

“Elena, run!” Yavara screamed when I stood.

I cocked my head at her, putting an arm around Crystal and Ruby’s waists. “And why would I do that?” I said with the biggest shit-eating grin on my face.

Yavara narrowed her red eyes. “They called you ‘Master.’” Her face broke into a wide grin, “Elena, you fucking stud!”

“You were so busy bragging about your exploits, that I couldn’t get a word in edgewise.” I stood over her, “So typical of you Yavara, always thinking you’re the center of the universe.” Onyx and Opal framed my beloved vampire, giving me questioning looks.

“This is Queen Yavara?” Onyx asked, looking at the woman curiously, “She’s a vampire.”

“A short vampire.” Opal sneered, showing some contempt for my love.

“You’re a very astute observer, Opal.” I smiled, petting her head, “Ladies, this Yavara Alkandi Tiadoa, and her blood-daughter Patricia. Patricia, Yavara; this is Crystal, the matriarch of the family, and her daughters: Ruby, Diamond, Onyx, Sapphire, and my personal favorite, Opal.”

I noted the dirty looks the other girls gave Opal, and the smug expression on her face, and wondered idly if I was creating a rift in the family. Then I realized I didn’t give a shit, and jealous women fucked with twice the passion. Yavara looked around the room, assessing each woman like she was at a buffet. Her eyes fell on Opal’s tattoo, and she laughed. “Master’s Little Anal Slut, well no wonder she’s your favorite.”

“It’s a cryptic message about her longing for world peace.” I laughed, “Pure poetry, really. Opal’s an old soul.”

“And she’s threatened by me.” Yavara bared her fangs at the succubus, “As she should be; she stole my title while I was away.”

“A title you have yet to earn, my love.” I smiled, getting to my knees before Yavara.

“You’ll be worshiping my brown-star like it’s the gate to heaven.” She grinned, spreading her legs, every motion a labor for her. Her heritage kept her from becoming a victim like her blood-daughter, but her flesh was still mortal. Glistening strings of nectar webbed her blushing pussy, whose flower opened in the full bloom of her arousal. I ran my tip through it, and her entire body tensed with anticipation, her breath catching behind her blood-red lips.

I leaned over her, grinning wickedly into her red eyes. “Beg for it, my love, my whore.”

Back and forth, back and forth; I ran from her clit, through her slit, down her taint, and pressed her anus, then slid back up to repeat the motion. She groaned, then moaned, then mewled, writhing in a dance of lethargic need, her predatory grace dwindling with every motion, becoming naught but the whore she truly was. I knew Yavara had no qualms with debasing herself -in fact, she quite enjoyed it-, but she also wanted to test herself against my slaves, to see the extent of her prowess. Were she in her normal self, she might’ve been able to resist them, but her vampiric form didn’t offer the natural shielding of her dark-elf form, and indeed, it offered weaknesses of its own. She stared longingly at the blue vein in Opal’s neck, a vein Opal was presenting very purposefully. With a groan of defeat, Yavara leaned forward, pursed her lush lips to Opal’s throat, and bit. Opal gasped, and Yavara surged with new life. She parted from the bite with a heave of breath, and screamed, “Oh, please fuck my asshole! I’m nothing but your dirty anal slave! I’ll crawl on all fours like bitch on a leash and bark if it means you’ll just touch me!”

I laughed, pressing my tip to her favorite hole, feeling it contract and open, her pelvic floor deepening with her anticipation. “I could tell you that I’m in control of myself, but that would remove the danger from it.” I hissed, entering her slowly, “Something tells me you like the danger. Truth be told, my dearest love,” I drove to the hilt, and she shrieked in ecstasy, “you drive me so wild, I don’t know what I’ll do.”

BROCK

Ruby and Onyx were gone when I awoke. I hardly noticed. The only thing I noticed when I awoke, was that Sherok was dead. There was a moment every morning as I awoke when I would forget, and the second after, the realization would bear down on me like a boulder. I groaned, caught in the despair of it, pondering if getting out of bed was even worth it. I knew the feeling would fade the moment I put my foot to the earth, but there was a horrible comfort in misery.

“Chief?” Jefrok, my lieutenant asked from the threshold, “Chief, you awake?”

I grumbled something incoherent. If Jefrok was at my door, it meant there was news, and I was such a bastard in the morning these days that only Trenok or Jefrok were brave enough to rouse me. “What?” I finally managed.

“The queen’s here.” He said simply.

It took me a moment to process that. Then I lurched out of bed, scrambling to get my clothes on. “Have my honor guard show her to her quarters.” I said hastily, strapping my suspenders, “Get Zander and Trenok over here! And Elena too, I guess.” I smelled my breath on my palm, “And… shit, give Prestira your house, Jefrok; it’s the second biggest. Oh, and Drake Titus! What the fuck are we going to do with the vampires?! How soon will they be here?”

“They’re already here, Chief.” Jefrok mumbled, “Been here for the better part of an hour.”

“AN HOUR?!” I roared. Introspectively, I realized this kind of volatile reaction was why my clansmen were afraid to approach me these days, but it didn’t stop me from kicking Jefrok through the outhouse door on my way to Trenok’s hut.

“Trenok!” I yelled, bursting through the door, “Trenok, get your shit, the queen’s-” I stopped when I saw that Trenok and Certiok were very busy making me a grandchild. Wait, never mind; no grandchild had ever been made that way. “Get your shit on, both of you!” I yelled, “The queen’s here!”

I stormed into the village center, my eyes catching twelve black-sailed ships docked at the riverbanks. Black-robed figures mulled around them, way too many to house. Fucking logistical nightmare this was, and who would Yavara blame? Well me, of course. It was my village after all.

“Zander?” I yelled, “Where the fuck is Zander?!”

A young Protaki woman gestured shakenly to a nearby hay tent. I marched for it, tearing open the flap. “Hey you old fuck, why didn’t you tell me that-” and I stopped, having interrupted Prestira Rasloraca and her exotic female partner mid-mutual-cunnilingus.

“Brock,” Prestira smiled, her lips glazed with her lover’s nectar, “it’s wonderful to see you again.”

“And you as well, Prestira.” My eyes fell to the heavenly display of sex before me, and my loins stirred, “I was… uh… I was just looking for Zander, have you seen him?”

“Why do you want him?” The woman asked, flinging back her blue hair to smile radiantly at me. God, what a woman. Her skin was golden bronze, sparkled with gemstone freckles that highlighted her nipples, labia and anus, the latter two exposed to me above Prestira’s waiting lips. The woman’s voluptuous body was draped over Prestira’s slender form, a tantalizing juxtaposition of skin color and shape. “Brock?” The woman asked, her amethyst eyes twinkling, “Brock, can I help you?”

I was dumbstruck, momentarily forgetting why I’d even come. “There is a meeting at eight.” I said, shaking myself out of my stupor, “You are of course invited, Prestira. If you see Zander, please tell him that he needs to come as well.”

“And you, Brock?” The woman tittered, “Are you going to… come?”

Prestira playfully slapped her sparkled friend, who licked her lips lecherously at me, her eyes fixed on my growing erection. I might’ve taken her up on the invitation, but something in Prestira’s expression suggested it wasn’t a mutual one. If I was being honest with myself, Prestira scared me. I often got the sense she knew what I was thinking, and when she leveled those white eyes on me, there were times I swore I felt her in my head. So I grunted something, tucked my boner into my waistband, and marched out of the tent.

“Where are you going, big boy?” A husky voice said in my ear, “You think you can tease me with this toy, and not let me play with it?” There were two hands in my pants a second later, the elegant fingers wrapping around me, the soft palms squeezing. I was pulled back into the tent, and before Prestira Rasloraca’s disbelieving eyes, her friend gave me the best blowjob of my life. I lasted less than two minutes, and when the orgasm came, it brought me to my knees. Even as I grunted and groaned, the woman sucked me, generously swallowing around my pumping cock, cradling my balls, caressing them as they shrank in her palm. When she was done with me, she smacked her turquois lips, and grinned. “I’ve been wanting to do that ever since I met you.” She whispered, leaving a parting kiss on the tip of my cock. The fact that we’d just met didn’t bother me in the least. She could’ve told me moon was made of cheese, and I would’ve just blissfully nodded my head, and smiled.

When I left the tent, Prestira was shaking with giggles. I didn’t pay her any mind. I strode through the village with a spring in my step, knowing exactly where I’d find the queen. Why had I been so tense before? Queen Yavara wasn’t one for rigid ceremony and grand welcomes. I’d be fine. Everything would be fine. It was a beautiful morning, the birds were chirping, the sun was out, and I’d just gotten my dick sucked by one of the most gorgeous women I’d ever seen. The shadow of grief that hung over me seemed to lighten for the first time.

Elena was easy to find; I just followed the choir of moans across the village. The hut in question had the door shut and the windows covered. “Ranger?” I knocked on the door, “Ranger, is the queen in there?”

Elena’s head of disheveled platinum hair sprung from curtains, which quickly drew together about her neck. Her face was flushed, nearly redder than bronze, and smeared with at least five different shades of lipstick. “She’s here.” Elena panted, “But she’s rather busy right now, so if you could… oh, fuuuuuck.” Elena’s eye rolled back, and she bit her bottom lip. A moment later, there was a rustle in the curtains right below her, and a familiar dark face popped out.

“Brock!” Queen Yavara exclaimed, her face as much a mess as Elena’s, “Oh my god, it’s so good to see you!”

“And you, my queen.” I said, noting Yavara’s position relative to Elena’s, and deciphering what was going on behind the curtain. Hell, I could smell it. “Your absence was acutely felt these past few days.”

Yavara’s face fell. “I’m so sorry about Sherok. It’s my fault for getting you into all this.”

I touched her lips affectionately. “If I remember correctly, it was me who got you into all this, my queen.”

“Yes, I suppose you did.” Yavara smiled, every word accompanied with a cute breath, “Elena is doing her best to reenact that night.”

“Impossible. She doesn’t have the tool to get the job done.” I smirked at the hermaphrodite.

“Maybe not,” Elena panted, the motions behind the curtains becoming more vigorous, “but I’ve got friends to help me out!” And they disappeared once more, Yavara’s squeal of delight sounding loudly over the backdrop of moans and slapping skin. I noticed that her voice changed after a few seconds, becoming lower and raspier, but I didn’t think much of it.

“There’s a meeting at eight.” I called into the curtains, figuring someone in there would remember.

I finally found Zander. He was by the ships, in conversation with a man who could be no one else but Drake Titus. The vampire was nearly seven feet tall beneath his black robes, and was flanked by two statuesque women whose postures belied a reverence for him.

“And you must be our orc chieftain.” Titus said with a mocking tone. He extended his gloved hand, and I shook it, very aware of the strength behind that grip. It wasn’t often that I felt wholly outmatched. “I must say, I’m quite impressed with the Gorge. From what I heard of the Terdini, I’d assumed there would nothing but shit-bricked huts and rape pits. You actually have a dock!”

“Yes, we live humbly out here in the countryside,” I said with a wide smile, “but I swear, the sun shines so much brighter out here.” I peeled back of the edge of his glove with my thumb, “Not a cloud in the sky this morning.”

Titus smiled from beneath his veil, and withdrew his hand. “A beautiful day indeed, orc chieftain. Somewhat tarnished by the smell, however. I thought there must be a pig barn near, but no,” Titus regarded the perimeter of orcs, “you obviously let the livestock free range.” Titus turned back to Zander, “Mind the company you keep, Fredeon. There will be a hierarchy in the new empire, and if you consort with the rabble, you’ll be viewed amongst them.”

“There will be no aristocracy in Alkandra!” I growled.

Titus turned back to me. “There’s always an aristocracy, orc chieftain. Class isn’t a construct; it’s the natural order of things.” Titus flashed his fangs, “The strong always eat the weak.” He looked back at Zander, “I expect to be kept in the loop, Fredeon. The princess Patricia Alkandi will be my representative in my absence.” He stopped at the top of the ramp, and looked back one last time, “And do give my deepest condolences to Prestira. It was a… gross failure on my part.” Then he disappeared into the hold, and the procession of vampires followed after.

“Well, fuck that guy.” I grumbled to Zander.

“He’s an asshole,” Zander sighed, “but a necessary one. He’s going to Alkandra to begin reconstruction of the castle there, and we’re in desperate need of a stronghold. We can’t keep our treasury here.”

“And why not?!” I growled, “Because a pack of orcs can’t be trusted to keep their hands out of the honey pot?!”

“Because a straw hut isn’t the most secure place to keep the wealth of a nation.” Zander rubbed his temples, “Brock, don’t let pride become your crutch; it’s so easily kicked out from beneath you.”

“If you think I’m going to take orders from that needle-dicked-”

“Enough!” Zander snapped, “Do not start a feud with Drake Titus, because as of now, he is worth more to us than you!”

I glowered at the wizard. “And who is Princess Patricia Alkandi? Did Titus demand that Yavara take an adoptive daughter? Will I have to kowtow to some spoiled blood-sucking bitch who’s done nothing but lick her daddy’s cock to earn her place?!”

Zander exhaled slowly. “The condition for Titus’s allegiance was that Yavara share his blood. It seems our queen desired a blood-child of her own, hence Patricia.”

I let that new information sink in. Zander, Prestira, Elena, Titus, and now Patricia. Was I below them all? Had I been standing still while everyone leapt over me? “When the queen gets her castle in Alkandra, will there even be room for me in it?”

“If you’re so worried about your position in Yavara’s kingdom, then I suggest you do everything to strengthen it.” Zander said, putting his hand on my shoulder, “Keep yourself focused on your goal, and let nothing else distract you, and you will rise to your rightful position.”

I nodded, easing the tension in my body with a breath. “Froktora.”

“Froktora.” Zander echoed.

“Say, Zander.” I said, looking side-eyed at him, “You wouldn’t happen to know the name of Prestira’s friend, would you? You know; blue hair, greenish lips, purple eyes, tits out to here, glitter all over the damn place?”

“Ah, I see you’ve met Destiny.” Zander smiled wryly.

“Oh, I met her alright,” I nudged him with my elbow, “she was very pleased to make my acquaintance.”

“Yes, she’s a bit of a hedonist.” Zander said, chuckling with me, “I actually introduced her to Prestira a few hundred years ago, if you can believe it. Unfortunately, she likes to disappear for long stretches of time, and I never seem to be around when she comes back. Damn shame.”

“Damn shame is right!” I laughed, clapping him on the back, “Goddamn, what a woman! Destiny. Now that’s a stripper’s name if I ever heard one. Well, she can dance on my pole any time she wants!”

Zander shook his head, laughing. “If I ever see her again, I’ll make sure to let her know.”

ELENA

Patricia was sprawled on the floor, the victim of the post-sexual grooming Crystal enjoyed performing on her prey. The matriarch succubus dotingly massaged the vampire, occasionally rearranging Patricia’s hair or cleaning a spot with her tongue. Patricia, since released from slavery, endured the maternal touches with eyes closed in bliss, an occasional purr humming from her lips. While it was certainly a sight to behold, it was nothing compared to the display of sexual splendor Yavara had painted. She was taking a drink from Diamond’s throat, her head resting between Opal’s legs, her pale legs spread wide so that Ruby and Onyx could entangle tongues in her anus, while Sapphire fed rapaciously from her slit. With a weak cry and an arching back, Yavara came for a fifth time, then collapsed into the bed of women. She shrank into its dark-elf form, and the succubi cradled her with their bodies, drawn instinctively to serve our kind.

“This…” Yavara sighed, running her hands through Ruby and Onyx’s hair as they began nursing from her, “this is heaven.”

“These are some interesting looking angels.” I mused, drawing my finger along the point of Opal’s demonic horn, “And I think we both know you’d never get into heaven, Yavara.”

Yavara laughed. “So are you the devil then?”

I leaned over her, my hair drawing a curtain around her face. “After the things I made you do, and the things I made you say, would you call me anything else?”

“No.” Yavara giggled, touching noses with me, “You’re pure evil.”

“Which one of my little demonesses is your favorite?”

Yavara sat upright, studying the variety of women around her. “I can certainly see why Opal is your favorite; her and I share the same dirty proclivity, and she’s tight where you like it. And Onyx,” Yavara stroked the black woman’s back as she nursed, “such a controlling lover when you let her be herself. Ruby is a generous, and gives herself wholly. Diamond is greedy, and takes what she wants from me. Crystal is like a mother, and only wants to see me pampered. But Sapphire,” Yavara took the redhead’s face in her hands, elevating her from her crotch, “Sapphire is patient. She studies me, learns from me, tests me. What are you trying to find, girl?”

“The secret to Master’s heart.” Sapphire whispered, her forked tongue lathering Yavara’s offered thumb.

“Oh, it’s no great secret.” Yavara grinned at me, “You just have to spend a lifetime putting up with her bullshit, and eventually, after you transform her into a new species, she’ll confess her love to you.”

“Ah yes, you had to put with my bullshit.” I sniggered, “Which is why I was always left holding the evidence of your crimes while you ran to Daddy to profess your innocence.”

“Every princess needs a whipping girl.”

I smacked her hard across the ass, prompting her to yelp. I sneered. “I guess this is divine retribution then.”

“I feel like I’m in an abusive relationship.” Yavara pouted her lip.

“That’s what happens when you fall in love with the devil.” I loomed over, “You need to atone for your sins, girl.”

“Still? But I’ve endured so much!” Yavara gasped, drooping against my body.

“It’s never enough.” I whispered.

“Oh god, take me again!” Yavara cried, elevating her pelvis. Just then, a bell rang from the village center. Yavara stilled against me, then sighed. “Eight o’clock.” She rolled upright, searching for her dress in the tangle of bodies, “C’mon, Elena, Patricia; we’ve got a war to plan.”

PATRICIA

My life before my transformation seemed like it belonged to another woman. I had the memories, but they weren’t my memories. Though the entity ‘Patricia Bronson’ still technically lived, she was dead in all but the perspective from which she saw the world. I was Yavara’s daughter, but I didn’t think she appreciated what that meant. Titus was right; day-walkers were a half measure. It wasn’t just that they skirted the ills of vampirism, but it was like they were simply wearing the bodies as outfits. They didn’t understand. Though their hearts had stopped, and they’d been reborn, they hadn’t truly died. Yavara was still Yavara, even if she was ‘Mom,’ and Prestira was still Prestira; though as I looked at her from across the room, I could tell that wasn’t entirely the case. Something of Grandmother Rasloraca had been left behind on that pirate ship.

“Alright, alright, everyone shut the fuck up!” Brock roared, pounding a gavel onto the table. Titus didn’t think much of the orc, but I’d found during my days with Titus that he didn’t think much of anybody besides himself. Though he wanted me to answer to him, I felt no such compulsion. He hadn’t bitten me, and I would only be loyal to the woman who had. If Mom held Brock in high esteem, then I would stay my natural proclivity to see him as an inferior.

“Enough with the pleasantries,” Brock growled when the room had silenced, “let’s get down to business. The first council of Queen Yavara Alkandi, first of her name, ruler of Alkandra and the Great Forest convenes now. Brock Terdini, (that’s me) Secretary of War has the floor. Let’s go around in a circle now, and state your name and tell us all something interesting about yourself.”

“Are you serious?” Elena laughed.

“It’s called rollcall, Ranger, didn’t they do that at Castle Thorum?” Brock growled, then gestured to Certiok, who sat in the corner with a quill and parchment in her hand, “Everything needs to be recorded, and so before every meeting, attendance will be taken for the transcription.” Brock hoisted a heavy rock onto the tabletop, “To avoid excessive cross-talk, the rule is that you can only speak if you have the Orator’s Stone.”

“The ‘Orator’s Stone?’” Mom laughed, “That’s the doorstop to the outhouse!”

“And now it’s the first relic of your nation.” Brock said, sliding the stone to Mon, who sat beside him at the head of the table. Each member of the first council announced their name, and gave a joking fact about themselves. There was Brock, Mom, Prestira, Zander, Elena, me, then Trenok. The young orc male gave me a wide berth, while Elena’s thigh was pressed firmly to mine. In attendance were Elena’s succubi, who could be trusted intrinsically, and were left to wander the perimeter. I could still feel their blood in my veins, murmuring sweet ecstasies through my nerves. I had to close my eyes and inhale deeply just to keep my vision from veiling violet. Elena’s thigh felt so warm against mine, and I recalled in vivid detail the way her cock felt inside me, pushing deep into my pussy while Crystal and Diamond entangled tongues in my anus, Sapphire and Diamond holding me down. I’d imbibed from the neck of Opal while she wriggled atop me, fondling my breasts as Elena forced Mom’s face into her ass. I daresay Elena and her pack enjoyed making us their prey, but I doubted they enjoyed it as much as we did.

“Patricia!” Elena hissed, nudging me in the elbow. The stone was in my lap, and all eyes were on me.

I held it aloft. “I am Patricia Alkandi, and my favorite color is red.”

That got a chuckle from Prestira and Mom, and a curled lip from Trenok as I passed him to the stone. I smirked back when I saw the way he lurched to hold its weight. When he was done, Brock cleared his throat again.

“It has come to my attention that one of our party, Prestira Rasloraca, was captured and interrogated. She has been open with the information she gave to the enemy under torture, and we all commend her for her bravery.” There was a low murmur of concurrence around the table, and Zander and Mom put a supporting hand on Prestira’s back. She just smiled thinly, and waved for Brock to continue. Brock grunted. “First order of business is to deal with these raids. As you all know, we were hit directly six days ago, but there have been other attacks. The Chotawaki and the Blortiki of the Falls were both hit and faired far worse than we, and our scouting parties have been constantly harassed, or have not come back at all. Leveria has made it abundantly clear that she isn’t going to stop her attacks on the Pines. She seeks to keep us divided and isolated while she builds her force.”

“The Chotawaki and the Blortiki have two-thousands combined fighting men.” Zander said, taking the stone, “The Haleodraka and the Banktrinani of the Scoured Cliffs have four-thousand between them. The lesser tribes of the Pines will fall in line if they do. With the united force of twelve tribes, we will have over ten-thousand strong; that’s certainly enough to petition the Ten for support.”

“You’ll never get to the Scoured Cliffs.” Elena said, leaning forward to take the stone. She gestured at the map on the table. “See this pass? It’s barely wide enough for a cart. There’s an outpost there, and if I know Adarian, he’ll have it fully-manned by now. Unless Zander has a portal from here to there, you’ll have to go around,” Elena drew her finger in a wide circle, “and take a fortnight getting there.”

“And we don’t have that kind of time.” Brock grumbled.

“Why do we need these tribes to petition the Ten?” Mom asked, not bothering to take the stone, “Why not go to them directly as we are? Will they not bow to their queen?”

I couldn’t read minds like Prestira, but I could see the vein pulsing subtly in Brock’s throat. He was nervous about how Mom might react to what he was about to say. “They might, my queen, but if they do, they’ll demand a Froktora. As I am, I’m uncertain if I could convince them to elect me.”

“Even with my endorsement?” Mom raised her brows.

“What if we were to pick one of the Ten instead?” Prestira prompted, decidedly not skirting the issue. She belatedly grabbed the stone, and Brock immediately snatched it from her.

“The Ten hate each other. It would mean civil war if one of them tried to claim rule over the others.”

Prestira took the stone, then steepled her fingers over it. “Perhaps, but if you put your support behind one of them, it would tip the scales of power. The offending clans would be beset upon once the others realized the rebellion would fail, and the conflict would be over quickly.”

Brock reached across the table, and dragged the stone so that it grated loudly against the wood. “You want me to bow to one of the Ten?”

“Is it such a terrible thing?” Prestira asked.

Brock took in a deep breath. “The Terdini are the oldest tribe in the Great Forest. We have culled the weak from our bloodlines since before the first Alkandra, leaving only the strong to pass on our legacy. We are the elites, the purebreds, the envy of every tribe who looks upon our women with longing, and averts their eyes from our men in terror. And you want me to give all this to some squat inbred shit-stain to ruin with his tribe’s weak wombs and weaker seed, so that he can but elevate the stock of his own worthless cattle by a fraction?”

Prestira pried the stone from Brock’s hand. “Your systematic eugenics program has made your tribe too small to matter, Brock. Numbers are what count in war.”

“What will war matter to the Terdini if there is no Terdini?” Trenok said beside me.

“You don’t have the stone, Trenok.” I whispered. He sneered at me, and I bared my fangs. His sneer faded.

“Why not just give one of the Ten the Protaki?” Elena suggested, the stone in her hand.

“Because the Protaki are mine!” Brock snapped at her, “I didn’t leave Sherok here to die just to give my boon to some underserving whoreson!”

“Will the Terdini even fight for Yavara if they cannot lead?” Zander asked, proffering the stone.

Brock glowered at him, plucking the stone from his palm. “The Terdini will always fight for the Dark Queen.” He looked at Mom, “But they will not bow to anyone else.”

“Then the Terdini will not bow to anyone.” Prestira said sharply, “If the Froktora is named someone other than Brock Terdini, and the Terdini refuse to fall in line, then the Terdini will not be part of the queen’s army. They will be disgraced.”

“You don’t have the stone, witch!”

“I don’t care about your fucking rock!”

“Enough, Prestira.” Mom said, putting a hand on her blood-mother’s back, and resting her other hand on Brock’s bunched shoulders, “Brock is the only chieftain I will consider for Froktora. We should be thinking of a way to support him, not to replace him.”

“As you wish.” Prestira said with a thin smile, “I was only contemplating all of our options.”

Mom turned back to Brock. “We’ll talk of your candidacy when the time comes. Right now, we’re talking about the immediate ranger problem. What can be done to counter these attacks?” She focused her eyes across the table, and rolled the stone over its surface. “Elena?”

Now it was Elena’s turn to feel uncomfortable. She cleared her throat. “Adarian has moved from patrol units, to seek-and-destroy units. The most effective way to combat guerilla tactics is with guerilla tactics. Right now, they own the forest, and use it as their ally. You need hit squads to show them the trees have no allegiance.”

Trenok grabbed the stone. “Orcs aren’t made for that kind of war. Hiding in wait for hours, covering ourselves in foliage? We’ll be picked apart without even seeing our enemy.”

I took the stone. “I believe we might be able to help in that regard.”

Elena shook her head. “They’ll be back in Castle Thorum before dusk, and that fortress is impregnable.”

“The trees do have an allegiance, Elena.” Zander said, levitating the stone to indicate it was his turn, “We have yet to petition the nymphs for their aid.”

Elena pushed the stone back to the tabletop. “The nymphs might ally with us, but they are pacifists. They won’t fight.”

“They might be convinced otherwise if they know that an elven army is being amassed to invade.”

Brock grabbed the stone. “They say the nymphs can see through the roots and leaves. If it is true, then they would not even need to shed blood.” A smile crept across his face, “They would know exactly where Adarian is patrolling; they would just need to tell us.”

Elena narrowed her eyes at him, taking the stone. “Ranger companies operate with autonomy. Trying to kill Adarian would cost you greatly, and earn you little if you succeeded.”

“Afraid I might hurt your boyfriend, Ranger?” Brock sneered.

“Sherok died in my arms, Brock.” Elena said with a clenched jaw, “I would gladly watch Adarian die.” I looked at Prestira from across the table, and saw her subtle eyeroll. She hadn’t bought it either.

Brock turned to Mom. “My queen, I have asked nothing of you, but I ask you this. Grant me leave to avenge my wife.”

Mom inclined her head thoughtfully. “No.” She said at length. Brock’s fist clenched, and Elena’s relaxed.

Brock grabbed the stone like it would make a difference. “My queen, do not deny me this!”

Zander carefully took the stone from Brock. “It’s not a question of vengeance, but of respect.” Zander said to Mom, “Brock will be seen as weak if he doesn’t avenge his wife’s murder. Also, having Adarian’s head in his possession will go a long way in convincing the Ten that he is worthy of Froktora.”

“I can’t risk Brock going out on some damned vendetta.” Mom said, then turned to Elena. “Elena, you were appointed by Adarian himself to be a solo-tracker, were you not?” Elena nodded, her brows knitting in confusion. Mom gestured magnanimously to her, “Then who better to track him? Once you get the nymphs to help you, you will hunt Adarian, you will capture him, and you will bring him here for Brock to… enact justice.”

“Yavara?” Elena asked, disbelieving.

“Queen Yavara when we’re in conference.” Mom smiled placatingly, but did not offer room for argument, only rolled the stone across the table to the her beloved.

Elena cupped her hand over the rock. “Well, my queen, I do not think Adarian can be captured. Killed, maybe, but he’d slice his throat before chancing imprisonment by orcs.”

“Not if he couldn’t move his limbs.” Prestira said, taking the stone, “I will go with Elena to the Spruces, and assist her in negotiating with the nymphs. I have some experience with their kind. Once they’ve agreed, I will help her capture Adarian.”

Elena chewed on her lip, then looked to Zander. “I remember what you said to me that night; don’t think I forgot.”

Zander nodded to her. “Can you do it?”

“I will do it, if that’s what you mean.” Elena looked at Mom, “Have you ever seen orc justice, my queen? Do you know what you’re condemning Adarian to?” Yavara nodded solemnly. Elena looked at her like she didn’t recognize her, then looked to Brock. “I will bring you Adarian, Brock, but Adarian won’t bring you peace.”

“I’m not looking for peace, Ranger.” Brock grinned, then brought the stone before him, “And that brings me to my second order of business for the day. As secretary of war, I propose that we formally change our non-aggression stance on the Highlands.”

“And I formally propose that Brock fucks himself with that rock.” Elena said flatly.

Brock held the stone. “Wait your turn, Ranger. I’m not suggesting a full-scale invasion all the way to Bentius, but my queen, if you go to the Ten and propose war without offense, you will be laughed out of the room.”

Mom glanced at Elena, then back at Brock. “I would jeopardize my relationship with King Dreus if I turn myself into the aggressor. I can’t afford to lose trade with the Lowlands.”

“I don’t think King Dreus will dissolve a lucrative trade deal over a few raided villages.” Brock said amicably, “We could say unaffiliated tribes carried out the attacks. Ultimately, the Ten just want riches and slaves.”

“Slaves?!” Elena growled, “Slaves?!”

“Yes, Ranger, slaves. The things your people have made of us for a thousand years!”

“Are you slaves, Brock? Are you even servants? When was the last time you even paid taxes to your ‘imperial overlords?’”

Brock stood up suddenly. “And where we seek justice when elven raiders burn our villages to the ground? We are under occupation! We have no rights!”

“Oh, so that give you the right to slaughter and rape with impunity?”

“Yes, it does!” Brock snarled, “An eye for an eye! The imperials have treated us like cattle for so long, maybe they should know what they’ve wrought!”

“If you didn’t always act like animals, then you wouldn’t have to be put down like them!”

Brock laughed. “And there she is, ladies and gentlemen, the true ranger finally revealed!”

Elena leapt onto the table. “I’ve killed more rangers than you, mighty Brock of the Terdini. I saved your village while you were seeking trophies!”

Trenok jumped up. “Now listen here you little-”

“You don’t have the fucking stone, Trenok!” Elena snapped at him.

“No, I’ve got the fucking stone!” Brock roared.

“Well then fuck you fucking stone!” Elena screamed, and ripped it out of the orc’s hands, marched to the window, and threw the rock into the Gorge. It cracked as it bounced from rock to rock, then splashed when it hit the water. The sound echoed from the bottom of the fjord, and hung in the air between Brock and Elena. Around the perimeter, the succubi began positioning themselves, the one called ‘Ruby’ easing toward Brock’s rear. Zander’s knuckles whitened around his staff, Prestira’s fingers twitched with readiness, and Mom was poised to pounce, the air around her shimmering with power.

“And thus, concludes the first council of Queen Yavara Alkandi, first of her name, ruler of Alkandra and the Great Forest.” I said, and smacked Brock’s gavel onto the table. I let out a tired sigh, “Well, that was fun. Who wants to get wasted?”

All eyes went to me, confusion writ across their faces. Elena was the first to break. “Shit, I could sure use a drink.” She turned to Brock, “What about you?”

Brock’s fists lowered, his shoulders relaxing. “I’ve got whisky and beer in the back.”

“I’m a whisky and beer kind of gal.” Elena smiled.

I locked eyes with Mom from across the room, and in my mind, heard her voice. Thank you.

---