EPILOGUE
Time, as she'd known it, had lost all meaning.
She could no longer measure its passage with sunrise or set. There was only the changing of the tides. Each shift in the dark waters was a promise of what was to come.
Nyxarion.
He was relentless. Doing exactly as he'd promised, he kept her full. Bloated. Hardly bothering to wait until her belly flattened out before he was indulging again. Breeding her with the sort of relentless dedication she’d never known before.
He kept her fat with it.
His seed the only real constant in a place that changed every time she looked.
Vorynthar was thriving.
Schools of Abyssari worked to carve off sections of the Raskoril, shaping pieces, directing their growth into elegant spires that reached bony fingers toward the distant surface. Living coral venting plumes of oxygenated water into the Black Sea's anoxic currents. Lending the chance for life to bloom in a place that had been dead for aeons.
Reef breakers, Nyxarion had called them.
Architects of this fledgling city flourishing in the dark. Skilled workers who used no forges or tools beneath the surface where such things simply could not exist. They knew the corals. How to train them. Direct rapid new growth in a way that robbed her of breath.
"Come," Nyxarion crooned, lounging in their chamber. Fins flicking in a lazy pulse as he summoned her from the delicate arch overlooking the city. His claws crooked when she turned to look. "Here, sweet Kore."
She sighed, a tiny smile flicking at the edge of her lips, for she had begun to learn the rhythms of his place. The art of surrender, the joy of defiance. When to provoke, and when to obey.
Fins flaring, she turned. Knees flexed, she pushed off the floor of their chamber. "You're insatiable," she hummed, slipping closer. Reaching. Her fingers spread when they landed on his chest.
"And you," he returned, claws carding through her wild tresses, "ache for my seed."
Spinning her, one hand wrapped about her throat, he pushed her forward. Bent her over his forearm so he might inspect the puffed lips of her cunt with a predatory focus that made her belly clench. "There it is," he said, and let his tongue paint through her slick. Passing over the tight pucker. "Always so eager. So ready for more. Always more."
"Please," she groaned, hands braced against his scales. Anchored around one of those deadly spines.
Tongue sweeping through swollen folds, broad and flat, he possessed her. Making her hiss and arch when he peeled her open with a careful claw.
"Such perfection," he murmured against her clit, kissing between licks. "So greedy."
Hips rolling, she tried to follow when he withdrew. Sucking at her clit with a lewd pop, before he pulled back.
A whine chattered between her teeth. "Nyx…"
"No," he said, claws prickling the meat of her ass. Dimpling the fat. "You'll take my knot first. Let me get you nice and full."
She tried to deny him.
Tried to squirm and fight.
But he was already pressing her down. Her cheek mashed against the floor, arms twisted, he locked her wrists behind her back and shifted. Draping his weight across her back.
Pausing to peel her open. Exposing the hungry slit he meant to use.
"There she is," he hummed, and set the blunt head of his cock between her lips. Pressing in. Enjoying the stretch as he bullied inside. Cock snug where it pressed against her depths. Where his previous offering still bulged. "Good girl," he said, voice rattling through their chamber as he let his purr shiver through her blood. "You're not going to move. Just take it. Show me... show me how much more you can take."
Inch by inch, she was made to yield. Addicted to the stretch. His girth. The pearls that popped over her clit and tormented nerves left over-sensitive and raw from the constant use.
Pleasure so sharp it had become a blissful sort of pain.
Groaning, forehead dipping to bump her shoulder when he reached her end, she felt his claws flex. Drag across the surface of her belly in a way that brought a shower of shivers as he hefted the weight he'd left churning inside her. "My swollen queen."
