Two nights passed and Leviathan found that sleep was as deceitful as *Xezbeth’s baked cheeks. Though instead of the flushes of lust, it was the incessant buzzing of frustration that had him tossing in his bed, forcing him to swallow his loss at the arena along with the dead-end exchanges he had had of late.

Turning to one side, there was Lucious, nagging; Mara-this, Mara-that; this is what needs to happen; or how can you think like that; and then back to Mara. Leviathan turned to the other, and there was Beelzebub, smirking, sharing a cup with Satan, while his angel wife flapped her wings about, readying herself to take nursing tips from Odiva.

Leviathan faced the ceiling, forearm over his eyes. It offered a kind of respite, until he saw his captain glaring at him. The scorn, the disappointment and the resentment in her eyes were all there; it was what she could leave him for memories. She would never smile at him. She would never have a reason to. ‘Why did you make me your captain?’ Why? Why?! Not so you could go off gifting smiles at that wolf!

Faolán was slamming her hard, left and right and called it training. Still her smile came too easily for him. If it was rough plays you wanted, well… damn…

Leviathan's only condition had been for her to remain by his side. Then she started kissing him…

Her hungry eyes came to him then. The way she moved in to kiss him, the small bite she took of her own lower lip before she moved in had Leviathan suck his own. The memory of her heat, the thickness of her lips sent a throb between his legs. One measly thought? Seriously?!

Miina had been avoiding him since their talk at the infirmary, with no signs of the mildest interest. Some captain she was. I gave her time off; not time away from me. Whatever throbs came his way, he was going to have to handle it himself.

Clicking his tongue, Leviathan pushed himself to the edge of the bed, rubbing his eyes from the delusion of sleep. He cracked his neck on both sides and stood up. Maybe some cold splashes would help. Or some more training? A strange lightness engulfed him as he walked to his bathroom. It was too quiet now. Something was amiss. He faced the large mirror above his sink and searched his face, though the signs of tiredness never truly welcomed a demon. Sleep was a luxury they had adopted and grown used to. For Leviathan, it was supposed to help him put some distance between his troubles and failures. It clearly wasn't—

It hit him at once, eyes widening at himself at the mirror. He looked back on himself, then down and around, as though he’d just dropped something precious. It wasn’t there. He looked again at the mirror. Mirrors could lie. She wasn’t there! Leviathan readied his stance; something, from somewhere was looming.

Nothing came.

He scanned the floor, finding nothing. There were no traces of her anywhere. Disbelieving his eyes, because this could only mean he’d been imprisoned in some dream, Leviathan let his hands search his lower back. Nothing.

A very real, dizzying feeling took over as he stared at his empty hand. Kiruna was gone.

A faint rustling noise. A wrenching feeling delayed then steadied his steps towards it, to the back of the room. Under his bed, there was rustling of some kind, which off and on with each step he took, became recognisable slurps and chomps. The king's inhale repressed the very possibility of relief. Increasing his Yellow and Black, Leviathan lowered himself on all fours. 

His demon eyes had no trouble finding the scaly form of his tail curled up. Kiruna did not move at his presence. “The fuck… what…”

As though dazed from perhaps too much food, or sleep, or both, Kiruna lazily uncurled her eyeless maw at him. The movement shifted several half-eaten peaches and pits surrounding her. She rasped, in what appeared to be a form of obvious protest, except nothing about this situation was obvious. Or predicted. Kiruna had never detached herself from him; not willingly. None of this should be possible.

Leviathan pushed himself closer to his tail, noticing the bulk of her mid-section curled around something else. In there, he found four black oval shapes. Eggs?

“… you better have nicked those, mate.”

**

In a matter of moments, Leviathan’s bedroom became an infernal circus. Not only the had the elders taken over the room like cooks in a kitchen, Kiruna was at the centre of the fuss, like the chef’s signature dish. Mammon had barged in with a small contingent of wolves and oxen, and for some inexplicable reason, a few soul servants loitered about, ogling the spectacle that was the elders’ fussing. The captain of his guard however, was nowhere to be seen.

Judging by the gleam in the elders’ eyes, Leviathan knew he had lost his bedroom for the foreseeable future. This was to be their base of operations to understand Kiruna's latest stunt. First, they would have to get past the arguing stage, which seemed focused on whether or not they should move Kiruna to a more study-oriented location. One half seemed to think it a reasonable move, while the other nearly ignited themselves into fits at the very idea of touching his tail. For now, moving Leviathan's bed to expose Kiruna's new marvel seemed to have reached a good consensus. And poised like a queen of Hell, Kiruna welcomed the spotlight with regal glamour while she protected the eggs. 

She looked subdued under the attention, though Leviathan had kept to himself the third surprise of this night. Moments before everybody arrived, Leviathan had tried to reach for his tail, but she hissed at him. When he dismissed the warning and tried harder, she sunk her fangs in his hand. It didn't feel as reactive as it looked. Kiruna lingered on the bite, though unlike her other victims, she did not drain his blood. Had she any eyes, Leviathan imagined she'd be looking right at him. When she seemed confident he would not attempt to approach again, she repositioned herself around the eggs, ignoring the blood dripping from his punctured wounds. Nothing the White couldn't heal. In their long history, Kiruna had never bit him; not even as he killed her time and again.  

Now, scanning the commotion around the room, Leviathan wondered what would happen to Kiruna if he volunteered that information.

“Remarkable,” Mammon approached. “When one thinks their days of glory are behind them…”

Leviathan frowned. “You call this glorious?”

“I was referring to your tail." The silver wolf's assertive tone never seemed to miss a beat. Leviathan searched the grand marshal's face for signs of mockery, but as usual, couldn't find any. Reading his mind would be as useful as reading a rock.

"And Lucious?"

“Attending to other matters." Mammon replied, ensuring his eyes stayed with the elders.

"His king is in crisis; what other matters are more important?"

"You will have to review that with him, my king." Mammon's dry smile finally came. So Lucious was still brooding over Leviathan bringing Mara to Hell. It clearly hadn't worked, with no sign of the creature and Mara was safe, but of course, his brother had to drag it on, work through his grouchy moods. Mara would be sure to help with that.

"Though, this hardly feels like a crisis." the wolf continued. "You’ve been wanting some distance from your friend for as long as I’ve known you. Should this not be a celebratory occasion, instead? Some would go as far as to compare it to... fatherhood?”

“That’s a riot, mate. I'm cracking with pride.”

Leviathan returned his attention to the elders who still seemed neck deep in the throes of disagreement. He felt spared that none of the bald-headed demons had ever taken an interest in politics. “I doubt it, but I'll ask anyway: Do they have theories on how this happened, yet?”

“Many, my king. Hence the continued disagreement.”

Leviathan sighed and cracked his neck.

“Would you like to hear the most common theory?”

“Please, indulge me.”

With a nod and his most cryptic smile, the wolf said, “the elders seem to believe the eggs belong to Kiruna.”

“That's impossible.”

“It may have looked that way over the years, but the theory was initially picked up when they studied your connection with Kiruna. The thought was that your tail had *parthenogenesis capabilities—the ability to self-reproduce. It seems it was immediately dismissed back then, based on Kiruna death count and her unique restorative skills. Presented with this new evidence, it reopens the debate, since your tail has never lived this long without being killed. She has reached a certain maturity.”

To Leviathan's stunned silence, Mammon added, "essentially, she's matured enough to get herself pregnant.”

“I know how it works, and what parthenogenetics means.”

“… without question, King Leviathan.” Mammon’s tone was too dry for Leviathan’s comfort, but he left it there. This was already too much to digest.

“The elders who once believed Kiruna capable of it thought she had outlived the prime cycle for conception. Perhaps it had been sacrificed to give room to her restorative ability. She has proven them wrong with this remarkable feat.”

That word again that Leviathan failed to grasp. What was so remarkable about this mess? “Anything on how it separated itself from me?”

“Nothing substantial on that, I'm afraid.”

“What’s the common theory?”  If two or more elders agreed on a theory, it usually proved to be the right one.

“That it just chose to do it,” Mammon said.

“Chose to? You mean to tell me…” Leviathan paused, a sudden jolt in the pit of his stomach he thought he had shed long ago. Isolation and rejection — his childhood's best friends had returned. 

“As I’ve said, nothing of substance. The elders will do everything they can to understand this process. It will include further studying. In the meantime, I suggest we move you to the suite in the north-west tower.”

“To my parent’s room? No, thanks.”

“I assure you, the room has been thoroughly cleansed—”

Leviathan was already on the move. “Hell no. Have you any idea the things they were up to in there?!”

“But you cannot stay here.”

Leviathan headed toward the door, “You’ll figure it out. This is a goddamn palace!”

He almost crashed into a newcomer by the door. This one gasped in his arms as she stumbled back. Miina’s grey eyes scanned him with unease before she noticed the commotion behind him. “Are you alr—” she stopped herself. “…What happened?”

Leviathan’s lips parted to respond until Faolán came up behind her. The sight of the wolf tensed his jaw. Miina greeted Mammon with a flustered salute, quickly reporting her delay. She’d been training with Faolán and lost track of time. She listened as Mammon brought her up to speed, and when the grand marshal set her at ease, she conversed with him casually, capable of expressions Leviathan would never see when she looked at him. The ease with which Miina traded curious and casual comments about the bustle further bolstered the distance between them. To her, at best, Leviathan was, and would always be, nothing but a desirable inconvenience.

Why did he make her his captain?

Was it not to justify the same pathetic excuse he had used throughout most of his life? To draw out those measly scraps of attention? He knew how that game ended. Maybe not so deeply to this extent, where the line blurred somewhere, but he had played it countless times. The winner still ended up alone.

Leviathan chuckled bitterly, one hand scratching the top of his forehead. It brought her grey eyes to him and Leviathan withheld himself from reading her thoughts. Perhaps for the same reason he didn't care to realise her dismissive feelings.

“What’s wrong with you?” She asked, drawing close and whispering as she did when she believed no other demon could hear. Under that frown, her concern almost seemed genuine.

“Walk with me.” Leviathan said, resuming his leave. “You too, wolf.”