The dragon's harem

As the two bath maids prayed, the Mother of All Life was the one to listen. She was back at her dark castle hidden within the abyss’s shadows. She was the divine goddess of all Cubus, the great mother of life, the shadow prowler and dark assassin, the one who dances with death, and controls life.

Countless people venerated her as a goddess of fertility, but many didn’t know that much about her or who she was. Why was she a maid? Why is she living in the abyss of all places? Why are there only succubus in her kingdom? Why is death her twin, and why is she selling her spit as a potent aphrodisiac?

All of those questions barely had an answer, but one thing was clear. Besides Amaterasu, she was the most active divine, and Death herself was the third. Every child born had her blessing, basked in Amaterasu’s light, and would one day fall into the embrace of death.

The two bath maids who prayed to her didn’t know what kind of power they were dealing with, especially since they were asking about something related to Arad. The shadows grew darker, and in the blink of an eye, both Arad and Kali noticed it. But before they could react, the power faded away and disappeared from the maids’ shadows.

The Mother of All Life had nothing she could do about the bath maids’ situation. It was their bodies; they were too weak to bear Arad’s child, and they would end up far worse than what Mira was like at the start. She can force it, but the pregnancy won’t last, and they won’t survive.

The balance between death and life was fragile. If the mother pushes life a bit too hard, death would claim it sooner. Even though the maids did feel a bit of heat, and to them, that was enough. They didn’t know if the goddess would help them or not, but they wouldn’t mind either way.

They were already informed by Eris that the possibility of any of the maids getting pregnant was near zero, since unless they were to give birth to a legendary human, that poor egg inside them would just rupture and fail to adapt to Arad’s genes.

Gabriella moved back and took Arad’s flesh out of her throat. Grabbed it for a second, then looked up at Gamond and Eris, who were busy kissing Arad. They glanced at her and pushed her back with their feet. “Camilla, you’re next,” Gamond called, and then Eris looked at Arad. “But, you might want to get a bit smaller for her.”

Using the fairies’ size magic that he learned from Zephyr, Arad changed his size, going down from a twelve-foot-tall giant to just half of that size, at near seven-feet-tall.

Camilla gulped since even when Arad got smaller, he was still probably too big to fit inside her, and she knew it had to hurt. What’s more, this was her first time, and she would’ve loved to have something smaller.

Arad looked at her for a second, smelled her through the air, and quickly noticed something strange. Camilla’s werewolf blood was reacting to him. He was the one who turned her into a lycanthrope, and that link seems to be burning.

“I see… it can’t be done any other way.” Arad stood, and Camilla could smell it as well, so she took a step back, sweat dripping across her whole body.

Camilla gulped, and all of her muscles were already tensing.

As Arad looked at her, his nails turned into long, sharp claws, each almost a foot long. “You’d better start praying now.”

All of Camilla’s instincts screamed at her to fight back; this man standing in front of her was the progenitor of her blood, the alpha predator of the wilderness. As a direct descendant of his blood, she has to fight for the throne. Even though she knew she would lose, this was how the werewolves communicated their rank.

All werewolves always strived to kill and consume their progenitor, to seize the power for themselves and become the alpha. The problem was that getting to the progenitor was always the hardest part, as they were always protected by whole packs of powerful werewolves.

That’s why a habit was born. Each time the alpha, the progenitor of a werewolf clan, was killed, it was done by their mate or children who sought to seize the throne. It was a mix of wolves and human behaviour. What if, while trying to kill a human king is illegal and would get you killed, actually managing to kill him would instantly give you the throne and immunity.

You run across all the guards, skip everything, as the entire garrison chases you with drawn weapons. But the moment you reach the king and cleave his head, the soldiers stop, kneel to you, and now see you as their rightful king.

That was the case here between Camilla and Arad. If she tried to kill him in public, every werewolf and their clan would instantly become hostile and attack her. But if she actually killed him here, then she would seize his power, title, and glory.

“Can we not do it?” Camilla looked at him with shaking knees. “I want to fight you and take the crown; it’s probably ingrained into my blood. But… those claws look painful.”

Arad looked at his werewolf claws and smiled, “You bet they are.” He then remembered all of the scars that he saw on Hank’s back and arms. That’s man must’ve had it rough with a werewolf wife.

Camilla gulped, lay on her back, spread her limbs, and relaxed her whole body. “I submit, I don’t want any trouble. I know I’m not strong enough to kill you, and I don’t plan to suffer this here.”

She wasn’t a mindless, rampaging werewolf, so she could resist her instincts and think rationally. What her beastial mind told her to do was stupid. Arad wasn’t someone she could beat, even if she caught him naked in the bath.

“We will see about that.” Arad retracted his claws, approached her with slow steps, and stood there.

She gulped again, sat up, and looked at his flesh. With a reluctant crawl, she approached, kissed it, and then tried to take the whole thing down her throat. At first, she could barely get the tip inside her tiny mouth, but after a few tries, she finally started getting the hang of things.

Arad looked at her with a smile and then extended his claws again. “Maybe I should cut your back open?” She was mortified to hear that, but sadly, she still didn’t realize what she was doing. She wasn’t sucking on his flesh, but chewing on it with her sharp lycanthropic fangs.

But before Arad could act, Eris jumped in and slapped Camilla on the back of her neck. “Snap out of it! You’re chewing him off.”

Camilla choked on Arad’s flesh for a moment, then quickly pulled her head back and started coughing as she felt the back of her neck burning from Eris’s slap.

“Arad, while she isn’t going on a rampage, her lycanthropic blood would certainly need a few weeks to settle in.” Camilla had just turned into a werewolf recently, and still couldn’t control or differentiate between her human and monster instincts.

In a more peaceful and calm setting, if you threw a tiny ball or a stick, she would chase it without thinking. The moment she realized that she was treating Arad’s meat like a real sausage, she was terrified to the bones.

But to her luck, Arad had already healed. In fact, the moment his flesh came out of her mouth, it was already fine. This had made him understand one thing, though. Even if his werewolf spawns are fine, talk just fine, and move like normal human beings, they should still be isolated for a while to focus on controlling the beast inside them.

Instead of training to get stronger, Camilla should now focus on training to control her impulses and emotions, to tame the wolf inside her soul. She looked at her hands, clenched them into fists, and then stood. “Sorry, but I have to leave. I can’t do this now…”

Arad smiled and chuckled. “Don’t worry about it. I never said I’m against you trying to kill me.” As he took a step forward, Eris moved out of the way, and he grabbed Camilla by the hands. “By all means, go all out and try to kill me as much as you like. You don’t need to control those impulses with me.”

In a second, she found herself on the ground with Arad on top of her. She could feel it a second later, his flesh tearing its way inside her, and she screamed, swinging her claws at him, but failing. Now with his torso pressed down on her chest, she could only scratch at his back with her claws, which didn’t seem to bother him at all.

But she had one other weapon to use, her jaw, and without wasting a second, she started trying to bite Arad’s shoulder and neck, but her teeth couldn’t pierce his skin, albeit drawing a few droplets of blood.

“Will they be fine?” One of the bath maids asked with a worried face, and Eris replied with a shrug. “Yeah, she can attack him as much as she wants, but that won’t stop Arad. If he were anyone else, she would’ve killed them, but he can take a werewolf on.”

She sat down, “There is this lumberjack called Hank who lives on Oakedge, his wife is a werewolf progenitor, and he surprisingly survives his nights with her. He is a human and could do it, so there is no way Arad can’t.”

After half an hour, Camilla finally stopped thrashing, and her arms fell limp. Arad looked at her face for a second, “How do you feel?”

She blinked several times and growled, “The blood rush is over… but I’m still a bit agitated.” She looked down at herself, where Arad was still pounding her like a press. Each thrust felt both pleasurable and painful, but that worked in her favor, allowing her to stay in control.

She wrapped her legs around his hip and stared at his eyes. “Go faster, let’s finish while I’m in control.”