Chapter 288 - 284: Fractures and Whispers

The echoing slam of the private wing doors still rang in Catherine’s ears as she hurried down the marble corridor, her elegant silk robe hastily tied around her naked form.

Cum—thick, warm trails of Aiden’s potent seed—still leaked down her inner thighs with every hurried step, a sticky reminder of the ecstasy she’d just been torn from.

Beside her, Sabrina moved with similar urgency, her scarlet robe flapping open to reveal flashes of her toned, sweat-glistened body. Flora trailed behind, clutching a rumpled sheet to her chest, her golden hair disheveled and cheeks still flushed from the marathon breeding session they’d shared only moments ago.

They ducked into a side alcove off the main hallway, a shadowed nook lined with velvet curtains and flickering crystal lamps that cast dancing shadows on the walls.

The distant hum of the gala’s second-night festivities filtered through—laughter, clinking glasses, the soft strains of the all-female orchestra playing a seductive nocturne. But here, in this hidden corner, the three Draconic women paused to catch their breath.

Catherine leaned against the cool stone wall, one hand pressing between her thighs to stem the flow of Aiden’s essence, though it only made her shiver with lingering arousal.

"That bitch," she hissed, her refined duchess voice laced with uncharacteristic venom. "The Empress—storming in like she owns him. We were in the middle of... family bonding. And she just shouts us out like common maids?"

Sabrina snorted, her ruby-red eyes flashing with fiery indignation as she retied her robe, though it did little to hide the love-bites blooming on her neck.

"Family bonding? Ha. We were getting properly fucked, sister-in-law. Gods, I can still feel him stretching me—his cock like a damn battering ram. But yes, she’s got some nerve. Aiden used to be ours. Remember the early days? Just us—me, you, Flora—taking turns on him all day and night. He’d pour that endless seed into us until we couldn’t walk straight.

Now? This endless harem is swallowing him whole. Nobles, maids, now the bloody Empress herself. He’s slipping from our hands, Catherine. Like sand through fingers."

Catherine nodded vigorously, her emerald eyes narrowing as she glanced down the corridor to ensure they were alone.

"Exactly. It used to be intimate—our little circle. Aiden would wake up with me riding him at dawn, Flora in the afternoons, you sneaking in at midnight for those wild sessions where you’d beg him to ’ruin your aunt’s greedy cunt’ until you squirted across the sheets.

But now? He’s got duchesses and countesses lining up, signing blood contracts like they’re invitations to tea. I spent all last night masturbating in my chambers—fingers buried deep, whispering his name, imagining his thick cock splitting me open.

And today? The same. I’m addicted, Sabrina. He’s our drug, and the supply is getting thinner every day. If we don’t do something, we’ll be reduced to begging for scraps while he breeds the entire empire."

Sabrina leaned in closer, her crimson hair falling like a curtain around her face, voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Addicted doesn’t even cover it.

Last week, I locked myself in the stables—yes, the stables—and fingered myself raw thinking about him. Three orgasms, and it still wasn’t enough. That incubus blood of his... it’s like fire in your veins. One taste, and you’re hooked.

But now, with all these new whores? He’s barely touching us. We need to reel him back in. Make him remember who was there first—who loves him deepest."

Flora, still wrapped in her sheet, shifted uncomfortably but said nothing, her golden eyes darting between her mother and aunt. The young wife bit her lip, clearly torn between loyalty to Aiden and the growing frustration in the air.

Before Catherine could respond, a soft footfall echoed from the shadows. The three women froze as a figure emerged into the lamplight: Amber, the former nun turned cardinal, her blonde hair neatly pinned under a modest veil, green eyes sharp and knowing.

She wore her cardinal’s robes—deep crimson edged in gold—but there was a subtle disarray to her posture, as if she’d been wandering the gala with her own unspoken thirst.

Catherine and Sabrina clamped their mouths shut instantly, eyes wide with fear. Amber was Aiden’s confidante, his spiritual advisor in this twisted harem empire. If she told him...

But Amber didn’t scold. Instead, she nodded slowly, her green eyes gleaming with shared understanding.

"You’re right," she said softly, her voice carrying the serene authority of her clerical past. "I’ve been listening—from the shadows, as is my way. Aiden... he used to be so devoted to us.

Pouring his cum into our wombs day and night, making us sing praises to the Light while he claimed us. Remember those endless sessions in the chapel? Him bending me over the altar, whispering filthy prayers while he filled me until I overflowed.

But now? He’s hardly touched me in weeks. The harem grows, and we—the originals—are pushed aside. It’s not right."

Catherine’s fear melted into gleeful relief, though she carefully omitted the fact that Aiden had just spent hours breeding them senseless. "Exactly, Your Eminence! We were just saying—it’s like he’s forgetting us. What should we do? We can’t let this continue."

Sabrina nodded eagerly, her red eyes sparkling. "Yes—tell us. How do we pull him back? We’re desperate here."

Amber glanced around the bustling corridor, where noblewomen in jewel-toned gowns drifted by, laughing and whispering. The party was in full swing now—the second night bringing even more unrestrained energy, with the crimson wine flowing freely and that insidious thirst beginning to stir again in every throat.

"Not here," Amber murmured. "We need a secret meeting. Somewhere private. Follow me."

She led them through a hidden side door, down a winding servants’ passage, and into a small, secluded chamber deep within the pavilion’s underbelly.

The room was dimly lit by enchanted candles, furnished with plush cushions and a low table—perfect for clandestine gatherings. As they entered, Catherine’s eyes widened. Already waiting inside were three more figures: Flora (who had slipped ahead unnoticed), Akidna—the loyal black-clad maid with her knowing black eyes—and Luna, Sabrina’s daughter, a fiery young woman of twenty with her mother’s crimson hair but softer features, dressed in a simple nightgown that hinted at her own recent restlessness.

"Luna?" Sabrina whispered, surprised. "You too?"

Luna nodded, cheeks pink. "Mother, I... I heard the moans earlier. And I’ve been feeling it too—the thirst. Aiden hasn’t touched me in days."

Flora closed the door behind them with a soft click, sealing the room. "We’re all here because we feel it," she said quietly, her voice steady despite the sheet still clutched around her. "The harem is growing too fast. Aiden’s ours—my husband, our family. We need a plan."

Akidna smiled faintly from the shadows. "Indeed. Let’s begin."

The women settled onto the cushions, voices dropping to urgent whispers as they plotted. Catherine leaned forward first. "We start by reminding him of our devotion. Subtly—seduce him away from the newcomers. Masturbate in his presence if we must, show him how addicted we are."

Sabrina grinned wickedly. "Or sabotage the new ones. A little jealousy goes a long way."

Amber raised a hand. "Carefully. We don’t want to anger him. But yes—we reclaim our place at his side."

Luna fidgeted, her young voice eager. "And what about the Empress? She’s the biggest threat."

Flora’s eyes hardened. "We handle her last. For now, we unite."

The meeting stretched on, schemes weaving like threads in a tapestry—jealousy, seduction, subtle manipulations—all born from their unquenchable addiction to the man who had become their everything.