In one of the towers of the king’s vast palace, the man formerly known as Staff Sergeant Keanna Neely pulled one of the fur blankets more closely around her shoulders and snuggled down into the bed, trying to stay warm. She wished for Haggoz’s warmth behind her, but Haggoz had left before it got light. He rarely stayed with her all night, and on the rare occasions she did fall asleep after their lovemaking, he left as soon as he awoke. Keanna was lucky, she supposed, that her bed was heaped with furs and quilts. Though Haggoz played the elaborate game of pretending he wanted hrr to suffer, he didn’t mean for her to go without creature comforts. Her room, though isolated in a tower far away from the king’s quarters, was kept warm with braziers and a fire in the fireplace. She had an elderly male servant who brought her food to her each day, a man named Sung-la, who never said much of anything to her, just swapped out her food trays and cleaned her room. She had learned a great deal
Keanna had always known that she was considered to be a very good-looking woman. Although she wasn’t conceited over it—it was a simple matter of genetics, after all, and it was only through sheer luck that she had won the equivalent of the genetic lottery. Most of her striking good looks came from her mother, anyway. Then as if God or fate or somebody had decided such beauty was enough luck for one person’s lifetime, her mother had died when Keanna was only a baby, struck down by a huge falling limb from a tree as she walked home from work one day. Keanna knew her only from a picture hanging on the wall in her childhood bedroom. Her father had remarried when she was only five years old. The new wife didn’t want reminders of his former wife hanging around the house, so she had put all the pictures away, except for the one picture in Keanna's room taken not long before his mother’s death. She wasn’t smiling in the image. In fact, she was looking off camera over the shoulder of the per
Nikolai was sitting beside his father in the king’s council room, listening to the Minister of Home Affairs explained his report. Normally, the report would have held his interest, but today he was too concerned about Akari and her state of mind. Since the baby had come, and for some time before that if she was honest, Akari had been restless and moody. Some of the irritability was perhaps due to changes in her body since the injections to alter her womb had stopped, but that didn’t account for all of it. Akari could go from charming and sweet to bad-tempered and intractable in mere minutes and no matter how much Nikolai wanted it not to be true, he was sometimes afraid she was regretting her decision to stay with him. Their sex life was still off the charts, and he loved Akari and the baby more than he would ever have thought possible. Akari said she loved him just as much. But they argued a little too often and even though making up aft
Word had reached Haggoz just as he was leaving a meeting with the king and his council that the prisoner might be ill. It had alarmed him, and he had quickly made an excuse to the king and rushed from the chamber as soon as he could to go check on her. Love had come late in life to Haggoz, and when it had, it hit him hard. Werewolves matured early and Haggoz had been not quite thirty years old when he first met Keanna. Werewolf males usually were mated and raising children by their early twenties, but the war had been far more important to Haggoz. He was content with casual partners, having no wish to tie himself down and have a nursery full of children like some of the younger officers. He was from a noble house and had first asked to become a warrior at age twelve, anxious to get away from his mother and her cruelties. He had worked his way up through the ranks, aided by battlefield promotions and a few desperate skirmishes with the Federation forces in which he and his men had ma
Keanna had lost track of how long she’d been in the tower. Months, certainly. She didn’t think it was a year yet. The only bright spot in her days continued to be Haggoz’s visits. After her heartfelt confession to him, Haggoz still remain the same.Although he had kept her out of the general prison population and made sure she was properly fed and taken care of. He still refused to give her his forgiveness. With a lot of extra time on her hands, Keanna had many hours to daydream, to remember. She thought often of how it had all begun—this all-consuming passion she and Haggoz had for each other, right from the start. She certainly never would have believed it could have happened when they first met on that windy, storm-swept day. Yet that day on the docks had started this journey and had led her to fall desperately and irrevocably in love and banish any idea she’d ever had of killing Haggoz. She sometimes wondered how she could have ever ev
Haggoz nodded, then turned and shouted something to the young men gathered near him in their language again. Whatever he said was brief, but they scattered in all directions like leaves in the wind. He gave Keanna one more long, warning look and then walked away, his sapphire colored robes swirling around his strong legs, without so much as a backward glance, leaving Keanna to wonder what the hell had just happened. Had she just been claimed by Haggoz? So soon? And if she had, that would be a good thing, right? Or had the general simply not liked the fact that the young women were jumping the gun by inspecting him early? Was he more angry at them for some kind of misconduct than he was jealous of Keanna? She put a hand on the arm of one of the traders who was passing by and asked him. “G-General Haggoz just gave me an order to not display myself to anyone else but him. What does that mean? What should I do?” The man shrugged as he walked away, but offered a cryptic statement. “I’d d
He turned on his heel quickly and left Keanna frowning after him. The servant touched Keanna's arm. “Excuse me, ma'am. My name is Flovan, and I work for General Haggoz. He sent me to fetch you.” All this talk of “fetching” and being taken to her “new home” was making Keanna feel like some kind of pet, and she was surprised at how much she disliked that idea at the same time it sent an odd little thrill of something she couldn’t quite identify all through her. She was owned now by this werewolf man. To cover the feeling up, Keanna folded her arms over her chest and glared at the servant. “He couldn’t be bothered to come himself? I saw the general here earlier.” “The Dyson is a busy man. He had to get back to the war ministry for a meeting. I have your papers here for you to inspect. I think you’ll find everything in order.” Keanna snatched the papers from his hand and pretended to look it over. The words of her contract were written in the Standard text. It was used almost exclusive
Keanna sank as gracefully as she could to her knees, which put that huge cock right in front of her face. Her lips parted as she gazed for a long moment at Haggoz’s huge cock, red and straining. God, he was so beautiful. The head of his cock was a silky black color that Keanna suddenly wanted to taste. It bobbed eagerly in front of her, as if anxious to be getting on with things. So Keanna gripped the base of his cock and bent her head, sucking just that exotic tip into her mouth, gently, her chest rising and falling with shallow breaths. She heard the general groan something long and low and glanced up to see him lounging back against the side of the pool, his eyes closed. He didn’t thrust against Keanna's mouth, but controlled his body, holding himself still for Keanna to pleasure him. She dipped her tongue into the slit tasting a few drops that spilled out, the flavor of the salty beads of his cum bursting on her tongue. It was suddenly almost unbearably arousing. Keanna ran her