Kincaid’s moments of embarrassment were few and far between, usually the cool and collected one in any setting. Humiliation wracked through him as his aura exploded out of him, knocking every Naerian and redrya in the room to their knees, including his brother…the King. All except one. 

Reid’s head was down, veil covering his face from view, a statue amongst the wreckage. It did not go unnoticed.

Such hatred…Kincaid had not known the redrya capable. It was as awing as it was infuriating.

Talons were drawn as the Guard came rushing to aid the King while threatening Kincaid with retribution for such disrespect. 

The quiet whispers of shock and indignation burned in Kincaid’s ears as he fought to keep his expression neutral. To release his aura so violently, to bring the King to his knees did not only expose his power or rather Bodric’s weakness, but it was a challenge. One that Kincaid did not want to make. Especially not so publicly. 

He had spent so many years trying to convince Bodric he had no interest in his throne and in one single moment, all of that work was wasted. He couldn’t admit it was his redyra that caused the release, that would only destabilize the structures in society if they knew a human had that much power. It would also reveal a weakness in him, show them that he was a liability. Not something they could afford, especially with the redrya Rebellion getting bolder by the day. 

Bodric stood, golden eyes narrowed to slits, posture stiff as he looked down his nose at them. The room grew tense with silence. 

Against every instinct, Kincaid dropped to one knee, head bowed in submission. 

“My deepest apologies, Your Majesty. It seems I am still sensitive to the new mating. My instincts guide me when in the presence of a powerful male,” Kincaid said softly…carefully. It was a risk to go that route, drawing attention to the fact that Reid had not yet been bred, but the acknowledgment of power, no matter how false the claim was, held the King’s attention more than anything else in that moment.

Thankfully the redrya had enough sense to bow when Kincaid had, keeping his head lower than his Master’s. 

Bodric’s eyes narrowed for a few more heartbeats before a smile spread across his face. A booming laugh echoed in the chamber. 

“A strong bond indeed! I’ve no doubt a hearty clutch will blossom from it,” the King boasted. Two beats of silence followed before laughs and cheers rose up throughout the room. The Guards relaxed their offensive stances, melting back into the background where they were originally posted. “Rise, brother, let us celebrate,” Bodric said cheerfully, though the jovial tone did not match the steel in his gaze. 

He was not happy and Kincaid was going to suffer for it. 

* 

Reid rose only a few moments after Kincaid did, with the King slinging an arm around the bigger male’s shoulders. Good thing too, his knees were starting to cramp. Not only would it embarrass Kincaid further, but it would draw unnecessary attention to him. 

Normally he wouldn’t care about Kincaid’s reputation or feelings, but there was a simmering anger flowing through the bond. One that promised punishment. Reid was not a fool and knew he would suffer the consequences.

How could he know the male was going to respond that way? And the…power…it was unimaginable. Something they had not considered in the Rebellion. They had focused all their attention on the King. Perhaps though, it was misguided. Kincaid’s aura was…massive. Reid could find no other words to describe the sheer intensity of it. How he had knocked every single Naerian and human to their knees, as if gravity was commanded by him alone. 

How could they possibly fight against him when they could not stand? He’d have to report this to Dania as soon as possible. She needed to know, they all did, what they were really getting into. How many others were as powerful as he was? How had they not known?

Caught up in his racing thoughts, Reid almost lost Kincaid in the crowd when the King began to lead him away. Hurrying after them, keeping his head down, Reid tried to ignore the stares. So many stares. They were glued to his every movement, judging and measuring. Some glared while others peered in curiosity. Either way, he wasn’t fond of the attention. 

He found Kincaid standing before a large circular mound of pillows. A bed much similar to our own. Standing beside him and the King was another male with dark bluish hair and olive-green skin. There was something about the way he held himself, dressed in fancy robes that resembled Pelryn’s, surrounded by an obnoxious air that was hard to stifle. 

These were the worst kinds of Naerians to deal with. The entitled, outspoken ones. The ones that truly did not see humans as people but as cattle to be bred and farmed. They were lesser to him and it only made Reid hate him more. 

Close enough, he caught the tail end of their conversation. 

“I did not expect you to bring your pair here so soon after their Rut, Kincaid. It’s no wonder you lost control like a fledgling gaining his wings,” the obnoxious male guffawed, slapping Kincaid on the shoulder. Outwardly, the male did not react to slight, but Reid could feel the annoyance burning through the bond. Hot and throbbing. 

The three males looked toward the bed where Reid could see two humans. Both nude. One male, one female. From their messy brown curls, to their tanned skin, and bright blue eyes, it was clear they were siblings, if not twins. Somewhere in their mid to late twenties. Too close to Reid’s age for his comfort.

Both swelled at their stomachs, much larger than the average human when pregnant. It seemed so painful, so unnatural, their skin stretched beyond their limit but instead of the regular tiger stripes, the cracks bloomed with glittering Gemma Crystal dust, fine and iridescent. 

“I have a good feeling about this clutch,” the pompous Naerian boasted, watching on as the siblings writhed and groaned on the pillows. A spectacle for all to watch, gawk as they suffered. It made Reid sick.

“Rare for them to be seeded at the same time. We can only hope the eggs are viable. These hatchlings will be the next generation of Naeyans, our future,” King Bodric mused, watching on. Kincaid said nothing, just stared blankly at them.

“How many do you think will be in this batch?” The King asked and Reid could listen no longer. The way they talked about them…batches? As if they were fucking baked goods for sale? It was disgusting, monstrous, and only fueled the desire to end them all even more. 

What was the point of all this anyway? Most of the alien spawned died after hatching or never hatched at all. Over the span of twenty years, less than a hundred of their warped hybrids had lived while thousands of human lives were taken in the process. Soon, there wouldn’t be human or Naerian left. 

Was that their end goal? To take the humans down with them in the fast spiral into extinction? And what caused their sudden decline in reproduction? None of that information was revealed to the public. 

As much as he hated to admit it, this new position of pet to the King’s brother was advantageous. In less than a month, he had learned more information about the alien race than the Rebellion had in the past fifteen years. He wouldn’t go as far as to call it lucky to be paired with such a high ranking Dragon, but he would certainly use it to his advantage. 

And he couldn’t get word out to the Rebellion himself, he now had access to Gabe who could do it for him. They’d have to be careful, communicate in a way the Dragons would not understand, but humans were crafty. They’d figure out a way for sure.

A sharp cry echoed in the large chamber, shocking everyone to silence. Another followed by another, and another. Two groans, one high, one low, filled the air. 

A hushed hum of excitement buzzed through the room as the crowds began to flock toward the bed. Following the flow of bodies, Reid ended up nearly pressed against Kincaid’s back, who quickly shifted the human around to the front of him. There he had front row seats to show everyone so desperately wished to witness.

The humans on the bed had rolled to their hands and knees, swollen bellies dragging on the cushions as they faced away from each other. Slowly they rocked back and forth, groaning and moaning, faces twisted in pain. 

The male who had been talking to Kincaid and the King earlier, whose name Reid still hadn’t caught, leaned close eagerly but did not join them on the bed. 

The woman cried out again, hips dipping as she widened her thighs. The rocking grew more intense. Her fingers dug into the pillows in front of her while tears and sweat dripped down her face. She screamed, one hand reaching to cup her huge belly.

Reid was hypnotized by the horror of it. On full display right beneath her vaginal opening was a blooming slot with flower-like flaps of skin waving and quivering. So unlike the natural layers of her labia. Those did not reach, did not blossom, did not move like they had a mind of their own. Not in the grotesque way the sheaths did. 

Thick viscous fluid dripped from the opening of the sheath as it expanded, wider and wider. 

Reid’s stomach lurched. He did not want to see, did not want to witness the deformity that had marked his own body. And yet, he could not look away.

Peeking through the opening was a glittering egg, as large as a football and just as alien as the species it held. 

Covered in blood and other fluids, the egg slid out of the woman’s sheath and plopped onto the waiting cushion. And then there was another and another. 

Four.

The woman had laid four fucking eggs, each a variation of pearlescent white, embedded with shimmering Gemma Crystal dust. Exhausted and clearly bleeding profusely, the woman sobbed, fighting through what was clearly unimaginable pain to huddle close to the eggs. Shield them from the prying gazes, but it did not last. 

The Guards came, yanking her away. She screamed and cried and reached for them, but the eggs were left behind as she was hauled away.

Eyes darting between his own stomach and the violent departure of his sister, the male moaned, trying to crawl away, but as if some sort of spell was cast, he fell forward. His sheath bloomed and dilated. He could not escape the fate that waited. 

The room watched as he groaned and rocked and sobbed, pushing out six glittering eggs. Covered in sweat, blood, and other fluids, the male did not reach for his eggs the way his sister had. He watched them with silent tears streaming down his cheeks as they dragged him away, leaving a trail of blood in his wake. 

“Ten eggs! A hearty clutch indeed!” The blue haired Naerian laughed gleefully. Applause and cheers echoed in the room but Reid was silent. Still watching the after image of the carnage that had ensued. 

He could not move, not even when the King slid next to him, lips at his ear to whisper, “And you will bring us many more, little redrya.”