Lemuria

Chapter 4

Relatively Stable

Ephira City Outskirts

"So you are still completely nude right now? And that's...fine?" Verity chuckled at the inquisitive princess. "Finally ran out of relevant questions, did you? It's a glamour. Indistinguishable from the real thing in every way that matters. And it doesn't wear off or fade away until I wish it to, so don't you worry your royal head about your subjects spotting you in cahoots with a demon. Stress will ruin your face, you know, and I think I spy a wrinkle or two already."

The defeated strike force's return journey had been long, cautious, and dull. Hoping to pass the time (and distract from the catastrophic losses they had suffered), Cleome and Kaya had set about interrogating their willing captive. The demoness had been surprisingly forthcoming, answering their queries openly and in detail (far too much detail, frankly, for Cleome's liking). The constant barbs notwithstanding, acquiring Verity had been an intelligence coup.

Cleome just wished some of her information bode well for Lemuria. According to the succubus, Marlow had the entire female population of Nearheath pumping out seeds literally by the basketful. And Cleome had just supplied him with an army's worth of new bodies to further expand his operation. Not only that, but once planted, the wretched seeds apparently rapidly spread as they grew under the ground. Verity hadn't been privy to Marlow's exact stratagems, but based on the number of "deliveries" she had seen the drones sent off on, southeastern Lemuria as a whole could already be under threat from Marlow's network of subterranean tendrils.

The Exile's power in the hands of one man. THAT man. I should have killed him that day. Cleome shook the regrets out of her head. She hadn't known what he was then, assuming he was just another would-be suitor, filled with delusions of grandeur from his technically royal lineage, making a clumsy advance. Shuddering at the thought of what she had just seen in the field, Cleome could still barely fathom the depths of his depravity. It was imperative that they find a way to detect Marlow's seeds and determine the reach of his corruption. Lemuria still had plenty of soldiers to muster. If they knew where the seeds had spread, they could form a perimeter around the tainted area. Their remaining warmages, although all human, were surely still magically gifted enough to craft a barrier that would stop the spread of the roots. Then, Cleome could organize an effective counterattack from a position of safety. Cybele could--The thought caught in the princess's mind. The Mage General was gone. Another failure to add to the list.

"Might I ask a question of my own now, your highness?" Verity smiled sweetly. She had taken on a pale, human complexion, dark-haired and green-eyed. The glamour provided her a plain dress that could almost be called homely, were it not for a breathtakingly low cut providing an ample view of her cleavage and causing her areolae to threaten to make an appearance with each step. Cleome sighed. "Ask away, demon."

Verity began her pitch. "Now, you have been exceedingly kind so far, nothing at all like the haughty bitch your citizens complain about when they think no one is listening." Cleome rolled her eyes as the demon continued. "But now that we are nearing the heart of your domain, my concern is that you will simply throw me into a dark pit until you have need of me again."

"The thought has certainly crossed my mind."

Verity's smile remained fixed in place. "Of course it has! Pragmatic AND moderately attractive, in a boyish kind of way. Truly the crown princess your country deserves. But I would beg you to reconsider. I could be much more useful by your side, helping you stamp out the threat you so foolishly allowed to grow unchecked." Cleome's jaw clenched and unclenched, but she said nothing, so Verity carried on. "I can detect Marlow's little seeds."

That merited a reaction. "Really? How?"

Verity feigned a bashful expression. "I am the progenitor of the whole species, in a way. He used me to spread the initial corruption, at least. And, after he created his drone army, he had them do ALL sorts of depraved things to me."

Kaya interrupted, blushing. "What does that have to do with anything?"

The demon gave her a condescending glare. "I'm a succubus, not some lesser demon. We don't reproduce, and we don't age. That means the Exile itself crafted me, although that was so long ago I can't recall how or why. I have one purpose, and that is absorbing the essences of others. Which means there is a little bit of many of Marlow's critters in me right now."

The expressions on the princess and her feline companion were not encouraging. Verity sighed. "What I'm saying is that my body intimately knows the taste of their spunk, or whatever it is those things have been shooting into me. I can literally smell it a mile away."

That seemed to annoy the cat. "You're joking, right? I can catch the scent of that rabbit over there without trying." Kaya gestured toward a distant copse of trees. "And none of my scouts, who are just as capable as me, were able to sense those things."

"How shall I put this? Your sense aren't geared toward sex like mine are. I can tell you who in this little group last fucked who, along with when and how." She pointed toward two scouts on the group's perimeter. "Him and him. Last night, probably when taking watch. The one on the right likes to top." Kaya blushed. She'd TOLD Cole and Theo to keep the dalliances to a minimum while in the field.

"See? I'm right, aren't I? Want one that is a bit trickier? You and princess, right before leaving the city. That was weeks ago, but to me your face still reeks just as badly of royal cunt as if her highness had just climbed off it. Shame that she obviously didn't return the favor. Typical royalty, all take and no give. I guess she only sees you as a tool to use, or maybe a toy." The demoness's face brightened. "Oh, wait, I have it! A pet!"

As Kaya fumed, Cleome took a deep breath before replying as diplomatically as possible. "Let's say that you have made your point and we believe your...skill set...is what you claim it is. Why would we ever even consider trusting you?"

Verity threw up her arms in exasperation. This royal cunt is as thickheaded as they come. "I literally have no reason to betray you! The moment I am once again within earshot of that pompous little shit, I am back to dancing on strings for him. My freedom only comes when he is a corpse. So I will happily, nay ecstatically, help you detect his corruption so you can wall yourself, and myself, off from it until whoever passes for scholars in your big, shiny city find a way to wipe out his creations."

"No strings attached?" The cat spoke with gritted teeth. Verity smiled brightly. "Only a few very minor conditions. Treat me like a guest, not a prisoner. Let me leave freely when our business is concluded. And give me some fresh meat." She sighed at the disgust on the Ephiran faces. "That wasn't innuendo, don't you worry. Give me LITERAL fresh meat. It is unpleasant, but an animal's blood is still life essence. Unless you'd rather me fuck my way through the royal court? I hear the queen is still quite the looker."

Cleome ignored the jab. "I accept those terms. Here are mine: no unsupervised usage of your powers, no going ANYWHERE without an escort, and, for the Goddess's sake, no revealing your true nature to anyone who doesn't already know it."

Verity gave a mock salute and then extended a hand. After moment's hesitation, Cleome took it and shook. "We have a deal." Suddenly, the demon pulled the princess forward, locking her lips on to Cleome's. As quickly as it began, Verity broke the embrace and pushed the princess away. Smirking lasciviously at the enraged Kaya, she replied. "No, NOW we have a deal."

Oakwood

The village of Oakwood had fallen far more quickly than Nearheath. No need to trick an army of rubes into fucking a tainted womb when the corruption that had silently spread beneath the town could assault its entire population all at once. In a manner of minutes, writhing limbs had burst forth from beneath the soil and converted any suitable individuals into drones. The drones in turn sought out those the tentacles had missed, and within the hour the entire populace was either converted or food.

Setting up another seed production site was certainly useful, but was not Marlow's primary goal for the town. Oakwood's location, northeast of Nearheath and close to the Ipzoldan border, made it an ideal location for another experiment. One that wouldn't help conquer Ephira, but could certainly pay off in the long term. After all, Marlow would soon have a country to manage. And a diverse economy was a strong economy. So long as the test subject performed as he hoped.

Test subject... A pity that Verity had been lost. Although the succubus had long since served her purpose, keeping her around to play with had been most amusing. Oh well. Plenty of other options to use instead. Speaking of which...

Cybele moaned as the tentacle slowly throat-fucking her spasmed and deposited yet another sticky, corrupting load down her throat. As if detecting their sibling's climax, the pair currently plundering her nether regions messily came as well. All three of the intruders withdrew, but as always any relief for the Mage General was quickly dashed as replacements forced their way into the elf's now-gaping holes. A sharp prick on her left thigh indicated that another member of the mass of tendrils keeping her bound in a writhing cocoon had decided to drain the small embers of divine spark building up in her body. The blasted things had effectively prevented the Mage General from growing enough of a reservoir to cast even the most basic of spells since her capture. Remain calm and observe. She was still alive for a reason. That meant Marlow wanted something from her. She only needed him to make one mistake. And surely he would. He was, after all, human.

One of the benefits of immortality was the ability to take a longer perspective. There had been times in Cybele's life where she had simply waited for a problem to die of old age. Assuming Marlow was not going to dispose of her (and available evidence indicated that he likely intended to keep her alive and unconverted), that remained a valid fallback strategy. Still, she thought as her latest anal penetrator spasmed, messily climaxing inside her rear passage, a quicker solution would be preferable.

Suddenly, the inky black limbs of her tormenting prison unraveled and Cybele fell wetly to the ground. Looking up, she saw the human conjurer standing smugly before her. Good. Like the rest of his kind, he was arrogant and shortsighted. A few minutes to build up enough of a spark. That is all I need.

Marlow sneered down at the despoiled Mage General as she shakily rose to her feet. Her cum-spattered body, lewdly displayed by the tattered remnants of her robes, was surprisingly mundane. Fit, to be sure, but average all around. Really, it was only her piercing green eyes and resplendent red hair, along with the pointed ears that were the distinguishing feature of her kind, that gave the elf any distinctiveness. Marlow was surprised by the dispassionate expression on Cybele's face. One would think days of nonstop violation would have merited at least some emotion.

"Mage General Cybele. It has been far too long. We haven't had the chance to converse since my academy days, I believe? You told me my ambition exceeded my grasp and talent, then handed me off to Velis to learn transmogrification instead of "real" magic." He rounded on the elf. "Can you grasp how humiliating that was? I, min to the royal family, handed off to some doddering old alchemist as an apprentice!" Catching himself, Marlow took a breath. "I wanted to give you the opportunity to revisit your words."

Cybele gave the man an appraising look. "My conclusion still stands. You have borrowed power to achieve your plans. Your own degree of talent remains unchanged, and I highly doubt you have fully considered the ramifications--"

"Enough!" Marlow, apoplectic with rage, began ranting and raving, clearly furious that even now the ancient elf still withheld her respect. Perfect. Let him ramble and rage. Cybele had already recovered enough of her spark for a simple spell, but didn't see any point in interrupting her foe as he shouted. So insecure. At this rate, she'd recover enough power to incinerate him with a look by the time he was done rambling.

Ignoring the twisted sorcerer for the moment, Cybele examined her surroundings. Oakwood was a key dairy supplier for the rest of Lemuria, and featured a large stable complex just outside of the town's central square. The large building looming behind her made it clear that this was now where she was located. A distant cacophony of moans and groans on Cybele's left indicated that the town square was now the centrepiece of another seed production site. A much closer squelching sound drew her attention to the mass of tentacles still flanking her on either side. Some of these limbs were coiled together, forming several dozen chrysalis-like shapes. The squirming and shaking of each pod made it clear that each held another individual in a similar state to her recent predicament. Interesting. Who are the occupants and why haven't they been absorbed into the hive like the rest of Marlow's victims?

"I'm sure you are wondering why you and the rest of your mages are here." Carefully avoiding any surprise from making itself visible on her face, she returned her gaze to a perfectly calm Marlow. He smiled almost bashfully. "Apologies for the show earlier. Have you built up enough of a spark to strike me down yet? I can pretend to yell some more if you'd like another minute or two to prepare."

A cold chill ran down Cybele's spine. Why would he--no time to think. Act! The elf thrust out an arm in a well-practiced gesture, willing the divine energy flowing through her body to form a beam of pure, searing light. But nothing manifested from her hand. Instead, she felt a warmth in her loins grow and rapidly erupt into a blazing flame. Whimpering incoherently, she collapsed to the ground, cunt spouting messily as she came more forcefully than she had ever before in her countless years.

"I was nervous there for a moment, I will confess. But it looks like your body was indeed corrupted enough by all that tentacle cum for me to properly reshape it." The elf made a gurgling sound that might have been a query. "Don't worry, I haven't done much to you yet. Just enough to ensure that any spell you ever attempt to cast again will more 'fun' than 'fearsome.'"

Marlow clapped his hands together. "Now that that's settled, time to put you to work! I've thought of a position much more suitable for you than military leadership or academic pursuits." Commanded by a gesture and a brief incantation, a quartet of chains burst from the yawning maw of the barn behind the elf. A metal cuff on the end of each clamped around a wrist or ankle, before dragging Cybele, still in a post-orgasmic daze, into the dark mouth of the building. By the time Marlow sauntered in after the bedraggled mage, his chains had already deposited her in the furthest stall.

One of Marlow's less-radical ideas for the future of Lemuria was that automation would be a key part of it. Needless to say, he was more than delighted when he found that, when transmogrifying material, he could "program" it to respond in certain ways to certain stimuli. For example, when a self-important bitch of an elf was dumped in a milking stall.

Cybele was just starting to regain her senses when a padded, table-like structure erupted from the hay-covered floor beneath her, knocking the wind out of her lungs as she collapsed on top of it, legs and tits dangling down off either end of its narrow, rectangular surface. Straps whipped up from the object and wound around her torso, cinching tight and securing her body in place, parallel to the ground. At the same time, the chains connected to her ankle cuffs abruptly shortened, pulling her feet to the ground and leaving her legs pointing straight down. A metal bar formed between the cuffs, spreading her feet and leaving her cum-soaked hole, plainly visible through her tattered robes, open and inviting.

Cybele's arms were next, as her wrist manacles connected together, ensuring that the elf's arms were helplessly held behind her back. An inky liquid spread out from the cuffs, quickly covering her hands and forcing them into fists before solidifying, leaving Cybele with shiny, useless rubber balls at the end of each arm.

Genuinely panicking for the first time in centuries, Cybele began to cry out but was abruptly silenced as a harness made of leather straps sprung up and ensnared her head, forcing a metal ring into her mouth. Much to the ancient elf's embarrassment, she almost immediately began drooling helplessly on to the ground below. A cord snapped out from the back of the harness and attached to her bound arms, cinching tight and forcing her head back, leaving the elf stuck staring straight ahead.

"Cueasgh dis miadhnesh!" Marlow stepped into view, crouching down to make eye contact. "Oh, we have gone far too far to stop now. Now, I unfortunately have to do this part myself."

He tutted. "You only have yourself to blame, you know. I was shocked at how readily your body took in the Exile's essence. I'd almost say it hungered for it." The once-proud elf, famed for her calm intellect, could only utter a nonsensical, garbled response. Her vocalizations took on a frantic tone as Marlow raised a hand toward her, focusing the Exile's powers and causing Cybele's breasts to rapidly swell, first doubling then tripling in size. They continued to expand until the elf's now-thumb-sized nipples hung just a few inches from the ground.

Sensing that the bound creature was ready for the next step, the animated barn resumed its machinations. Cybele could only look on in horror as a clear tube snaked down from the darkness of the ceiling, slotting easily into her wide-open mouth and only stopping when it reached the back of her throat, nearly causing her to gag. A thick, pale fluid started pouring slowly down the tube and into the helpless woman's mouth, giving Cybele no choice but to swallow the foul concoction.

"This potion should help stimulate your body, keeping it nice and productive in its new role. There are some minor side effects, but I think that a massive increase in libido coupled with catastrophic loss of intellect will do you good. So we can consider this a win-win."

Cybele's latest protest was a wet burble that quickly dissolved into a cough. "You should focus on your meal. You'll get it for one hour, three times a day." He patted her head in mock affection. "Need to keep you nice and healthy, after all."

As he said this, Cybele grunted in discomfort as two more tubes descended and forced their phallus-like tips into her pussy and ass. Almost immediately, a lukewarm fluid passed through the anal tube and began filling her bowels. "You will also be flushed out during each meal. More efficient to take care of it all at once."

Cybele felt her guts beginning to cramp, but was unable to do anything to stop the automated enema. Her only chance was attempting another ignition. It isn't a spell, just an overload of one's spark, so it might still work. No gestures, no incantations. Just focus. Unfortunately for Cybele, it was at that moment that the phallus-shaped tip of the device currently lodged in her crotch began twisting and vibrating with an intensity far beyond any lover or toy she had ever encountered. The elf began frantically thrashing, attempting to dislodge the intruder, but her strict bindings rendered the attempt futile. As she felt the first violent orgasm approach, all she could do was howl incoherently.

Report

Such was the force of her climax that the Mage General did not notice the final step of the procedure until the metal caps at the ends of a final pair of tubes latched on to her nipples and began suctioning away, alternating back and forth between each teat. Although much of Cybele's mind was already an incoherent mess at this point, she still retained enough awareness to feel a creeping sense of dread as liquid began to spurt from each oversized mound with every pump of the machine. The true horror of Cybele's situation revealed itself as she realized she was being spiritually drained. Every drop of milk extracted from her swollen breasts held some of her spark, the Goddess's divine essence. She was being drained of her magical energy at the same rate her body was replenishing it.

Marlow saw the understanding dawn in the elf's tear-stained eyes. The knowledge that she would never again cast a spell, that now her purpose was simply be milked by her foe. The mage's product would fetch a fine price in Ipzold, especially once word spread that it could increase longevity, even confer immortality if regularly consumed. The fact that it would also imbue the consumer with the Exile's corruption was something Marlow would keep to himself. By the time he was ready to turn his ambitions east, Ipzold's nobility would be primed for conquest. Getting ahead of myself, though.

Marlow returned his attention to the forlorn wreck in front of him, now weeping openly as she crested from orgasm to orgasm, cheeks bulging out as the tainted meal continued to flow into her wide-open mouth. "Now, let's get you properly attired."

Marlow snapped his fingers, and the elf's tattered garments dissolved and reformed. Thigh-high latex leggings ran up Cybele's legs, while similar shoulder-length sleeves covered her arms. Beneath the bindings holding her body in place, a corset formed and tightened, adding one more facet to the mage's discomfort. Another snap caused a mirror to spring up in front of Cybele's face, allowing her to see the black splotches covering her new shiny white garments.

"You'll make a far better cow than you ever did a general. But something is still missing." Another gesture completed the new heifer's humiliation. Bovine ears sprouted from the top of the elf's head harness as a thick, gold ring pierced her septum. A tight collar, complete with a heavy bell, fastened around her neck. It immediately began clanging as the new cow shuddered her way through another mind-shattering climax. Marlow leaned in as a bovine-patterned blindfold began to form over Cybele's eyes. "Don't worry, little cow. You won't have to bear this burden yourself. Soon the rest of your mages will join you in one happy herd." As the blindfold sealed off Cybele's vision completely, she wailed as she felt an emotion she had never experienced before over countless years. Despair.

Ephiran Palace, Throne Room

Queen Isabel's icy glare felt like it cut right through Verity's skin, laying her soul bare. Sitting regally in her throne, the monarch was the very picture of royalty. Every one of the golden hairs on her head perfectly in place, her stunning auburn dress free of even the slightest wrinkle, her posture perfect. Verity understood why rumours held that the Ephiran royals were closer to elves than humans. You'd never know that she'd plopped out the two royal brats sitting in the chairs flanking her. Not with tits still looking that good. She briefly considered asking if the princesses had been wet-nursed, but opted to avoid needless antagonism. For now.

"You have entered into an agreement with the crown princess, and I am loath to overrule her on this matter." The queen's brow furrowed. "And it seems that we certainly need your help. The loss of Cybele marks an irreparable wound to our nation, and to me as well. But do not mistake our desperation for foolishness. If any escort assigned to you feels even the slightest doubt about ANY action you take, they have been instructed to take your head immediately rather than risk your treachery." The royal glare somehow grew even more piercing. "I would suggest you communicate very clearly whenever you plan on doing ANYTHING. I have given the same order should you be spotted attempting to work ANY of your demonic charms on my citizens."

Verity gave what she hoped was a charming, disarming smile. "Of course, your grace. Your caution is understandable. I will endeavour to follow your terms to the letter." She paused, hesitating slightly before pressing on. "However, what should I do if I, wholly unintentionally of course, accidentally work my non-demonic charms on any of your people? Am I to be executed simply for having a delightful personality?"

The chilly silence of the throne room was broken by a snort as the younger princess, the bony, pale one, tried to contain her chortling. The queen sighed, placing a hand on her temple in exasperation. "Anise, please maintain at least SOME decorum. And you, demon, just...act with civility. Pretend you are one of us, and behave accordingly. Maybe one of your kind can be rehabilitated?" Her tone, and gaze, softened slightly. "None have tried before. Perhaps you could be the first. Now go. The Scout General will escort you to your quarters."

As Verity turned to follow Kaya and a quartet of her beastkin scouts, she gave the younger princess a quick, almost unnoticeable wink. The demon didn't have much time to gauge the reaction, but was fairly sure she saw the beginning of a blush. Delightful.

Oakwood

Conscripting the remainder of Cybele's mages into their new bovine role was a simple task for the magical "programming" of Marlow's new dairy complex. All he had to do was apply the finishing touches by reshaping each struggling elf's body to prepare it for the industrial fluid production it would have to endure. The indignant shock in the look of the first male mage to be adorned with a set of barrel-sized milkers made his decision to save the blindfolds for last wholly worthwhile. That cow (bull, perhaps?), along with each other that bore the required penile equipment, was now also hard at work providing a different kind of fluid in addition to their milk.

As if in response to his thoughts, the nearest elf stiffened in anguished ecstasy as his cock, engulfed by a quivering, fleshy cylinder, spat out a stream of cum that was rapidly whisked away via a clear tube. The foul-tasting fluid dripping steadily into the former mage's mouth ensured that his tortured organ would be firm and ready for another climax within minutes.

Marlow wasn't sure yet what he would use the fortified mage cum for, but it was simpler to collect it now rather than wait until he saw a need. As a test, he'd granted a few of the female mages cocks of their own. He had been pleasantly surprised to find that, much like the engorged teats on the bull before him, the freshly-shaped phalluses sprouting from those cows also worked just as well as natural ones. Maybe the Ipzoldans would like to use the seed to try to breed their own elven mages? Hell, maybe they'll just want to drink it, too. Either way, could be a market there.

Setting the thoughts aside for now, he took his leave of the barn, shutting the heavy doors behind him and silencing the grunting, moaning beasts within. Dozens of his drones scuttled about outside the facility, some draining the freshly-filled storage tanks into portable containers for transport and sale. Others dragged fresh barrels of the "cow feed" he'd reshaped this town's female drones to produce toward the barn.

However, there were also some unfamiliar shapes milling about. Beastkin, and by the rags they wore and the animalistic expressions on their canine faces, they were likely a pack from the Verdant Womb. Marlow's suspicion quickly was proven correct as two much larger figures emerged from the shadows and made their presence known. He let out a sharp, surprised laugh. These two again?

The creatures once known as Cyan and Vraka had been shadowing Marlow ever since the sorcerer had arrived in Nearheath. He'd tolerated their presence then, but seeing them follow him here was...unsettling. They had been a simple experiment, a test of his new strength, to be cast aside once he was done. He hadn't exactly put much thought or care into reshaping them, but the result, now that he saw it in the light of day, had a certain impressiveness to it.

The former beastkin moved about quadrupedally in an awkward hunch, made necessary by their now-distorted, elongated arms. The limbs were heavy and muscular, roughly twice their original length. Each massive hand featured thick, inch-long, razor-sharp claws. The beast's legs, although retaining their original size, had a much more bestial shape to them, suited for pouncing and climbing. Forgoing clothes, the creatures' modesty was nearly preserved by the thick coat of fur that covered their bodies, from their tails to their snarling, elongated snouts. Nearly preserved, mind, as the male's foot-long, half-erect cock hung down between his legs, pre-cum seeping from its tip in a steady flow.

The pair paced back and forth, eyeing Marlow warily, before reaching a decision. The beasts lowered their eyes submissively and took up station on either side of him, flanking him protectively. The sorcerer released the breath he hadn't even realized he had been holding in. Several nearby drones, poised to intervene if needed to save their master, resumed their endless chores.

"You did this? To Vraka and his mate?" One of the unmodified savages approached, speaking the Lemurian tongue crudely like a child. Unsure of the direction this encounter was going to take, Marlow responded cautiously. "They sought to take me as their prey, and I responded in kind. I would advise against seeking revenge, unless you want the same fate to befall you." To his shock, the beastkin's eyes alit with excitement. "Yes, that! Make us like them! Make us STRONG! Let us hunt for you!"

Well, this is a fun turn of events.

Ephiran Castle, Guest Wing

"I am NOT a pet!"

After escorting Verity to her new chambers, Kaya had sent away the remainder of her scouts, save for the two now stationed outside the (hopefully) sound-blocking door. Then, she had furiously rounded on the succubus.

Verity affected a look of shocked concern. "Oh, my dear, sweet kitty, I am mortified to know that my words offended you so! I assure you, it was just a little joke! I'm SURE that her highness views you as an equal partner in your relationship. In fact, based on how close you clearly are, I imagine that she has already made plans to wed you. After all, it surely wouldn't be the case that you are carrying on your little dalliance in secret for fear of what the royal court would say if they knew the crown princess was fucking a lowly, Exile-tainted beastkin, right?"

Might have pushed her a bit too far. Verity stumbled backward, tripping over an ottoman and falling hard on her ass as the feline beastkin's extended claws raked the air where her face had been. Fierce, this one. Too fierce. The Queen's threats had been empty, Verity was sure of that. Put the fear of the Goddess in the nasty demon to make her behave and all that. But the mangy alleycat glaring down at her? She would jump at any excuse to cut Verity down. And Verity was pretty sure she would learn to spontaneously combust before she could learn to control herself around someone so easy to taunt. Little miss scout needs to go away for a while.

"Apologies. That was uncalled-for." Verity held up her palms in surrender. She applied what she hoped was a sufficiently bashful expression. "It has been a stressful couple of weeks, and I was lashing out. To be honest, I am actually a bit, well, jealous of you."

That seemed to throw the general for a loop. "Jealous? Of me?"

"Of all your kind. The beastkin who chose to set aside their differences with the Goddess's children and live among them. Who persevered in spite of prejudice and distrust and earned their place in Lemurian society. I mean, look at you. You're a general. I'm just a whore. Less than that, really. Whores get paid."

Kaya narrowed her amber eyes slightly, looking for any hint of falsehood. But the demon seemed genuine. The general sighed. "You're right, you know. At least partly. The public would never approve of a beastkin in the royal family. Our blood is tainted, just like yours. Literally so."

"But you have personally done so much to prove yourself in spite of that! Tollivar the Mad, Xemanos the Debaser, Mad "King" Bruno, to name a few? You and your scouts have eliminated so many demonic and human threats to this lovely kingdom. You'd think they'd appreciate that."

Kaya blinked in shock. Those kills were covert actions she had taken unilaterally. The kind of missions that the queen would never have approved. Horrid, brutal affairs that even Cleome only knew about in the vaguest sense of things.

"There aren't many of us ancient demons still alive today. Those of us that do remain know to keep an ear to the ground. To be frank, I would rather fight off the late Mage General and all her forces than have you and your assassins after me."

"Enough with the flattery, demon. I see your angle. I'm not about to start advocating for you."

Verity sighed. "It isn't flattery if it's the truth. But fine, we don't have to be friends. I'll speak plainly. I want to help you in order to help myself. If I am to find a place here, in Ephiran society, people need to accept me. And the easiest way to make that happen is for them to accept you. After all, to the common folk, we're basically the same thing. Exile-tainted abominations."

"And how would I magically change the world's status quo?"

"Do what you're best at. Just don't hide it this time when the task done. Hunt Marlow down like the dog he is. In spite of his newfound powers, he is still no more durable, intelligent, or perceptive than any other human. Catch him sleeping, or shitting, or fucking, or whatever else makes him easy to strike unawares. Then, literally and figuratively cut the head off his ambitions, parade it on a spike through the streets of Ephira, stroll up to the palace, and claim your pretty princess's hand in marriage."

The Scout General scoffed. "Just like that?"

Verity smiled. "Just like that. People fucking LOVE a fairy tale. The heroic knight striking down the sinister villain and saving the kingdom, all out of love for her lady fair? It is so picture-perfect the thought of it makes me ill."

"You must think I'm stupid. You're trying to manipulate me. Draw me away from Ephira, toward a trap."

Verity shrugged. "Feel free to believe whatever you want. I've made my motivation clear. And we both know I don't benefit at all from Marlow's success. Now, if you don't mind, it is late and I could use some rest."

Still in a state of turmoil, Kaya left the scheming demoness's chambers. So distracted was she that she barely acknowledged the guards as she left. She certainly didn't notice Princess Anise peering curiously toward the succubus's door from a shadowed doorway as she passed.

Back in the guest room, Verity fell into her bed's soft, inviting sheets. She stifled a laugh. The worst case was that Kaya would do nothing. But Verity was sure the lovestruck pussycat would go charging off after the sinister sorcerer. The poor creature positively reeked of romantic desperation, after all. Then she'd be out of Verity's hair for at least a few weeks. Or for good, if Marlow's pets managed to kill her. And should Kaya succeed? Verity chuckled at the thought. Wouldn't it be something if all of that bullshit I spouted came to pass?

End of Chapter 4