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Incensed.

Fighting the temptation to rouse the full strength of his army and march to the gates of the Silver City, Sinadim shivered. Aching to liberate Teliah from Rusteem’s knot before she grew round with the corruption running thick in Karahmet blood.

He would breed her over the Sultan’s corpse. Claim the reliquary in his own name and usher in a new era. One not tainted by the sins of his father. One where he could be… free.

Heart aching behind his ribs, Sinadim let his claws catch at the soft cones of Hathorian ears. Scratching until she hummed and sent a tremor of interest vibrating through his balls.

It was a fantasy, freedom. One he couldn’t begin to describe, but the mere thought saw him grow thick and heavy, stretching that tender Omega throat as he swelled with the lust for the unknown.

For carnage and mayhem.

After all, he’d been trained for it.

Forged in the corrupt belly of the Karahmet sultanate, versed in coveted secrets of an indentured species, and born in the crucible of sibling rivalry that was always meant to end in fratricide.

But he was a prince…

… and a prince could never be free.

Not of his duties, his harem, or the crushing burden of expectations.

But here, in this fragile, pathetic bubble, he wasn’t a prince. Wasn’t in the Silver City, and couldn’t be commanded to do anything more than remain.

Green eyes focused on the female bobbing in his lap. A fantasy of dedicated, besotted female attention utterly devoted to him.

And so he chose that which was fragile and doomed.

And so he would remain.

17

Balkazar stood on the balcony, staring up at the triplet moons as they shone white and pure over the ocean.

Shamelessly nude.

Three times the moons had risen since he and the prince had taken residence in Tengit with their nesting Omega. Three times he’d been naked beneath that triplet lunar gaze and let the damp, coastal wind cool his flushed skin.

These past months had been a dream. A hazy mirage he couldn’t bear to leave. A gift from his prince, and more than he’d ever imagined possible for one such as him—born from nothing. Gutter filth, trained to hunt, enslaved to the faintest whisper of hope. That he might rise above. Claim a female for himself, despite knowing it would never happen. That he’d die exactly as he’d lived.

Alone.

In the gutter.

Balkazar dabbed at the sweat tracing his hairline, then set his forearms to the banister.

But Sinadim had changed everything.

What the prince had given him could never be replaced.

For three months, they’d bred her together. In a true nest. Sleek muscle gliding in sync, they’d driven each other deeper into the rut and ignored the rest of the world. Watching as that sweet Omega belly grew ripe and heavy. As her nipples darkened, growing puffy and long. Her cunt flushing a deep shade of ochre as the months passed and she drew ever closer to delivering the hybrids they’d put inside her.

She was almost there.

Already, her nipples dripped a sweet, golden syrup. Her belly hard, the skin taut and gleaming as her body was forced to stretch.

The insatiable little slut couldn’t get enough, even this close to labor. She’d grown demanding and selfish. Needy for a knot to ease the discomfort of pregnancy, she rarely went without. Climbing atop Balkazar’s cock immediately after Sinadim’s knot released her, she was always slick with cum. Always ready for more.

His prick lurched where it hung heavy against his thigh.