Naga Base
The underground base of the Nagas stank of stale air and dried blood.
Clusters of families huddled together near weak torchlight.
Their bodies were pressed close for warmth and protection.
The wounded moaned quietly in their sleep, and thin children whimpered softly against their mothersâ chests.
None of them looked strong anymore. Not even the warriors.
A woman sat near the wall.
Her arms were wrapped tightly around her two weeping children. She whispered with a forced smile, "Shh... donât cry. Everything will be okay. Once the God wakes up... everything will be happy again."
Her voice was thin, and desperate.
A deep voice cut through the moment like a blade.
"Shut your damn mouths!"
The speaker was a broad-shouldered naga warrior.
His scales were dulled from starvation, but his presence still made others flinch.
He stormed forward, glaring at the cluster of families.
"First Kael-Zar and Virela run off to a human city and die like idiots, and now you all are just making it worse!" he snapped. "Do you think we enjoy this? Protecting you, starving next to you, dying for you? If you canât help, then at least donât cry in our faces!"
He spat on the ground. "Youâre killing our morale."
The woman shrank back, holding her children tighter. Her hands trembled. She didnât say a word.
Then, a soft voice echoed through the base, almost like it drifted on the stale air itself.
"Hmm... that one seems like a good target. Kill him."
The warrior frowned and turned, confused.
A moment later, he screamed.
He dropped to the floor.
His body contorted in agony as his insides twisted.
Blood poured from his mouth, and then his eyes, and then his scales began to blacken.
He clawed at the ground, shrieking until his voice failed. Then, he lay still.
Everyone turned toward the voice.
At the edge of the torchlight, stepping through a narrow corridor, came an old man and a young human male.
The old manâs steps were slow, and deliberate. His black hair was streaked with silver, and he wore a long coat that shimmered faintly under the firelight.
Governor Marcellus Dane. Leader of Fortified City 50, a city under humansâ control.
Beside him, Vale Rae moved like a shadow. His eyes swept across the frightened Nagas.
The Governor stopped near the weeping woman and her children.
He crouched down slightly, enough to meet her gaze, though she didnât dare lift her eyes to his face.
"He shouted at you, didnât he? When youâre in this state," the Governor said softly. "Iâm sorry you had to go through that."
The woman didnât respond. Her whole body trembled from fear.
Marcellus straightened. He smiled faintly as he turned to the crowd.
"Since we are allies, I only wanted to protect you from the abuse."
Then, from beyond a thick curtain of torn cloth, another figure emerged.
His scaled armor was cracked in places, and his expression was a mixture of fury and resignation.
The Naga leader.
His gaze landed on the corpse of the warrior, and his lips tightened.
For a moment, anger burned in his eyes.
But then he saw Vale Rae behind the Governor and forced himself still. He gave a short nod.
Marcellus inclined his head politely.
The leader signaled two of his strongest warriors, and the group moved into a large tent tucked in the corner of the base.
Once inside, silence pressed down like a weight. The air was thick with tension.
The Naga leader didnât ask about the dead warrior. He didnât question why they killed him. That silence said more than words.
He knew who held the leash.
The Governor adjusted his coat slightly and spoke first. "I came to discuss the breach in our contract."
The Naga leader clenched his jaw.
"You remember our deal, donât you?" Marcellus asked.
The leader nodded slowly.
"We hold back all three human factions from claiming this city. In return, once your faction returns, you take control of Fortified City 89 and let us live here," the leader said in a low, bitter voice.
The shame choked him.
A proud mid-tier species was bowing to humans. It was something he could never have imagined before the âdisasterâ.
The memory of that day still haunted him.
Their settlement had been wiped out overnight.
The Disaster had come like a storm, tearing through their defenses.
Their Overlord-rank awakenersâtheir strongestâwere the first to fall.
Then their Champions followed. What few Champions survived had been so gravely injured they could barely move.
At the end, only a few hundred Nagas escaped.
That escape had only been possible because of the sacrifice of those powerful awakeners.
And before their last Shamanâa revered Overlord-rankâperished, she gave them a prophecy.
"Go to the land where our God sleeps. And He will take you under His wings."
Her dying words led them here.
After months of hiding and searching, they found the Nâtheris Serpentâthe God she had spoken of. A creature of Hell, powerful and eternal. As long as they woke Him, He would protect them.
Everything had been going well... until humans began to explore the city.
Wounded as they were, the Nagas laid traps, struck from the shadows, drove the humans back.
They refused to let anyone else have this city. It was going to be their new home.
But then, Marcellus Dane arrived with Vale Rae.
No one knew how he found their base. But he had. And when he did, no one could stop him.
The Nagas shouldâve died then, killed at the hands of Vale Rae who was the Governorâs dog.
Instead, the Governor offered them a deal.
Delay the human factions, sabotage their progress, and in return, theyâd be spared, at least until his own faction returned from the Mourning Frost Mountains.
After that, he would let them live along in his ânewâ city.
The nagas knew he was lying.
But they had no choice.
Vale Rae began visiting every few days, bringing information about the factions, strategies to handle them.
His constant appearance was also a warning. It was a reminder of who held the blade above their necks.
They cooperated.
But secretly, they worked to awaken the Nâtheris Serpent. That was their only true hope.
"If you understand the agreement," Marcellus continued, "then Iâd like to know why you broke it."
The leader remained silent.
"You sent two assassins to my city," the Governor said with a gentle smile. "They murdered a diplomat from another human city. Then they tried to recruit the Farmer I had my eyes on."
The Naga leader trembled.
Marcellusâs smile disappeared.
He clicked his tongue and looked toward Vale Rae. "They need to be punished. Two should be enough."
Vale nodded.
The two warriors standing behind the leader let out a sudden, ragged gasp. They convulsed. Their limbs flailed briefly, then curled inward. Within moments, they collapsed.
Dead.
The leader stared in horror.
"Why?" he whispered. "Why them?"
The Governor turned back with a soft smile. "Well... whatâs done is done, yes? Letâs not dwell on the past. I trust you wonât make the same mistake again."
He paused, then added, "Also, donât fail again like with the Metavore incident. The human factions must be kept from exploring deeper. Understood?"
The Governor turned to leave.
Vale followed.
A young female Nagaâbarely out of her youthârushed into the tent. Her face was red with fury.
"Father!" she cried. "Why are we listening to them? If theyâre going to kill us, then letâs fight them! Weâll die like warriors!"
The leaderâs throat tightened. He raised a hand and gently placed it on his daughterâs head.
"I know," he said. "But not yet."
He couldnât let his daughter die, nor the children of the fallen warriors who gave their life to protect the naga settlement.
He would protect them even if he had to lick the dirt from his enemyâs shoe.
Outside, the Governor and Vale Rae were walking back through the tunnels.
Marcellus groaned slightly. "Walking here and back every time... My old bones arenât built for this anymore."
Vale looked over.
"I understand," he said. "Iâll make sure they behave, so you wonât have to come to this filthy place again."
The Governor stopped and glanced at him.
He had sidestepped the real message.
He had been asking about his sister, Celia Rae, who could use teleportation ability. The Governor was starting to get impatient because he couldnât get his hands on her.
He smiled, but the warmth didnât reach his eyes.
Still, he didnât press the issue.
"If you say so."
And with that, they walked on through the dark corridors of the dying raceâs final refuge.
...
Isaac POV
Isaac reached home late at night. He handled the farm and trudged into his room.
His body was tense and his mind was a mess.
Two days had passed since heâd last been intimate, and the frustration was eating at him, especially after the incident with Alice at her house.
Her honest longing for him, the heat between them. All of it had left him on edge. His dragon instincts werenât helping.
âCome back home quickly, Alice,â he thought wryly. âOr I donât know what Iâll do with you if you return late.â
He pushed open the door to the room, expecting to find Emily waiting for him, but instead, he was met with silence.
Emily lay on the bed, curled up and fast asleep.
Isaac blinked, surprised.
She was out already? It made sense, though. Professor Catherine always went hard on training, and since only Emily was present today, she mustâve been extra hard on her. The exhaustion mustâve claimed Emily.
Still, Isaac didnât move.
His eyes wandered over her. Her one-piece dress had ridden up slightly, revealing the smooth, milky white skin of her thighs.
Her face was peaceful, innocent, with a faint smile that made her look almost too cute.
The sight stirred him. A dark urge rose inside him and told him to mess up that sweet expression until she was crying his name. He stepped closer. His body hovered over hers, and his breath was uneven.
âShe wouldnât mind, right?â he thought, his mind racing. âSheâs done it to me plenty of times while I was asleep.â
He recalled waking up to Emilyâs mouth on him. Her "practice" sessions were always bold and unapologetic, leaving him dazed and wanting more.
"Emily, are you awake?" he whispered, brushing back the strands of hair on her ear.
She didnât move. Her breathing remained steady and soft.
Isaac stared at her, torn between desire and restraint.
Looking at her was torture. His body screamed for release. His arousal was so intense it felt like he might burst if he didnât act, and her tempting innocent expression wasnât helping.
He leaned closer, his hand hovering over her thigh, but after a long moment, he sighed heavily and rolled over, collapsing onto the bed beside her.
He couldnât do it, not until he asked for her permission.
Shutting his eyes, he decided to sleep, and ignore the fire raging inside him.
Isaac thought sleep would elude him, but exhaustion hit fast. Within moments, he was in dreamland.
In the dream, he was on a couch, watching TV. Someone sat between his legs. Her back was nestled against him, and his arms wrapped around her waist. The warmth of their body, and the closeness felt real, too real.
âWho is she?â he wondered, though his thoughts were muddled by the dreamâs haze.
She wasnât Emily or Alice, that much he knew, but her presence was familiar, like a memory just out of reach.
âAm I so pent up Iâm dreaming about random girls now?â the thought was both amusing and displeasing, but he didnât pull away. If anything, he tightened his hold, drawing her closer.
"Isaac?"
Her voice was teasing, mature, and achingly familiar, but his dream-fogged mind couldnât recall the identity of the owner of the voice.
The scent of her hit him next. It was an alluring mix that acted like an aphrodisiac. Combined with his dragon instincts, it sent his mind spinning. Desire clouded everything.
She froze, her body tensing as she felt his hardness press against her through their clothes.
Isaacâs breath grew heavy. His lips brushed her ear.
"Hey," he whispered, his voice rough. "Should we..."
He trailed off, as a strange sensation cut through the dream. Lowering his head, he saw blood dripping from his nose.
The dream shattered, and Isaac woke with a start, gasping for air. His heart pounded, and his body slick with sweat.
"What the hell was that?" he muttered, sitting up. "Who was that woman?"
Her voice, her scent. They felt so familiar, but her face was a blur, slipping away the more he tried to recall it.
Frustrated, he clicked his tongue and glanced around the room.
Emily was gone. The bed beside him was empty. He checked his device, the screen showing the time. Only five minutes had passed since heâd fallen asleep.
Five minutes? That dream had felt like hours.
Isaac ran a hand through his hair, trying to shake off the lingering heat of the dream.
His body was still tense. The frustration from earlier was now mixed with confusion. Who was she? Why did she feel so familiar?
He thought of Selene, and Celia, but it wasnât them. The voice was different.
He groaned, lying back on the bed, staring at the ceiling.
"Get it together," he told himself.
The room was quiet. Isaac wondered where Emily had gone. Maybe sheâd woken up and wandered to the kitchen or stepped outside for fresh air. He considered going to find her but decided against it.
He closed his eyes, trying to calm his racing thoughts, but the heat in his veins wouldnât subside.
A cold shower might help, he thought. He needed something to douse the fire.
He stood, heading to the bathroom, and opened the door.
The sound of running water hit him first, followed by the sight of Emilyâs naked figure under the showerhead. Her hands were raised as she washed her hair.
The steam blurred the air, but her silhouette was clear.
Her curves were soft and inviting. Before he realized it, Isaac was across the room, pressing her back against the tiled wall, his lips capturing hers in a hungry kiss.
"Isaac, did I wake youâmhmm" she started, her voice muffled by his kiss. "Waitâ mhmm at least let me clean myselfâ mhmm"
His fingers moved instinctively, sliding between her folds, finding her already wet. A low moan escaped her lips, vibrating against his mouth.
Isaac paused, a thought cutting through the haze. Why was she already wet?
Another question followed, one heâd overlooked earlier. Why had Emily been asleep before him?
Given her personality, she should have stayed awake, waiting for him.
The image of her sleeping defenselessly with her dress hiked up flashed in his mind. Was it deliberate?
âNo way,â he thought, suspicion growing.
Still kissing her, he pulled back just enough to speak.
Emilyâs hands remained wrapped around his neck, their bodies pressing closer.
"Were you awake when I got back?" he asked
"No," she replied, her voice shaky as their kisses continued, but her tone lacked conviction.
Isaac didnât buy it.
âInspect,â he thought.
[Status 1: Wondering why you didnât pounce on her when she was faking sleep.]
[Status 2: Alice told her it was the perfect way to entice you while letting you dominate her, spicing up the romance. Her heart was pounding with expectation, but you chose to be a gentleman and didnât touch her. Sheâs sulking, so she came to bathe and cool herself, but stared to touch herself thinking about you.]
[Status 3: Wondering if she should send Alice a video of you two having sex, even though Aliceâs advice didnât work. She thinks she should, since it was Aliceâs payment, but part of her hesitates.]
âWhat the hell?â Isaac thought, stunned.
It took a moment for him to process everything. Alice had coached Emily to fake sleep, to lure him into taking advantage of her defenseless form, all to spark some fiery romance.
When did Alice become such a schemer? No, she had always been like that. The question should be when did she corrupt Emily to become like her?
Alice and Professor Catherine were both a bad influence on the innocent Emily.
And a video? Why did Alice want that?
His mind was filled with questions, but Emilyâs moans brought him back while her body trembled under his touch.
He kissed her again.
"You sure you were asleep?" His voice was teasing, but there was an edge to it.
Emily moaned, nodding her head. "Yes."
Isaacâs lips twitched. If she wanted him to pounce, sheâd get it.
He pulled his fingers out, turned her around, and grabbed her wrists with one hand, pinning them against the wall.
With his other hand, he guided her hips, positioning her ass toward him. Her body arched, ready, and he didnât hold back.
âShe wants me to take her? Sheâs gonna get it,â he thought.
He entered her forcefully with a deep and relentless angle.
Emily gasped. Her breasts dangled briefly before Isaacâs thrusts pushed her tighter against the wall, flattening her chest against the wall.
The water cascaded over them, mixing with their heat.
She bent her waist further, enticing him.
His hand kept her wrists pinned, ensuring she couldnât move, while his other gripped her waist, pulling her into each thrust. Her gasps and moans filled the room.
The noise of flesh slapping against flesh rang.
"Isaac," she called out in a trembling as her body shuddered under his hold.
"What?" he replied.
"Harder, please. Be more rough," she pleaded, her words broken by moans.
Isaacâs eyes darkened with desire. He pulled out briefly, turning her around.
His hands grabbed her ass to lift her.
Emily clung to his shoulders, her legs wrapping around him, surprised by the sudden shift.
The position buried his face into her breasts. He kissed her and bit her areolas lightly, then lowered her onto himself, entering her deeply.
The position drove him so far inside it bordered on pain, but Emilyâs moans told him it was exactly what she craved.
Her body arched. Her nails dug into his shoulders. The pleasure was sharp and overwhelming.
She kissed him fiercely. Their tongues tangled. Her breaths were cold against his lips as they moved together, the water making their skin glide.
"More," she gasped between kisses in a desperate voice.
Isaac obliged, thrusting upward, each movement sending her breasts bouncing against his chest.
Emilyâs head tilted back. Her moans grew louder. Her body trembled as she lost track of her climaxes.
The intensity didnât let up. Isaac shifted, pressing her back against the wall again, and spread her more.
The angle hit deeper. Her walls tightened around him with each thrust. She shuddered with pleasure. She called his name in a voice that was mix of need and bliss. Her lips brushed his jaw as she clung to him.
"Aahn~ Aahn~"
Emily moaned, barely able to suppress her voice as another climax hit.
Isaac kept going. His stamina showed no signs of emptying, and his own pleasure built towards the climax slowly.
He lifted one hand, and used it to touch the curve of her body. He cupped her breast while the other hand let him hold her against the wall. His inhumane strength let him do everything he wanted.
The rhythm was fierce, and sensual. Each movement drew out her gasps, making her body fully surrendered to him.
Finally, Isaac erupted inside her. He pulled out with a plop, the whiteness spilling out of her without restraint.
He dealt with it with a quick Life Drain and set her down, but Emilyâs legs gave out, and she plopped onto the shower floor, panting.
"I think Iâm too exhaustedâ" she said in an embarrassed voice.
Her words cut off as Isaacâs still-hard length brushed against her cheek, brimming with energy.
Her eyes widened, and a shudder ran through her.
"Why, what happened? Didnât you want me to go hard? Thatâs why you faked sleep, right?" he asked in a voice edged with mock anger.
Emilyâs breathe hitched when she noticed his slit-pupil eyes staring down at her.
She recalled seeing Alice have similar eyes when she lost her temper during Metavore Hive battle.
Later, she had asked Alice about it, and apparently those eyes were the sign that her dragons instincts had taken over her reasoning.
Alice had given an advice to Emily: There was a high chance Isaac was a dragon too. If Isaacâs eyes turned dragon-like, he was losing control, and she should call for help to prevent him going berserk.
âBerserk?â she thought.
Her body reacted to that word with a surge of arousal.
âWhat will he do if he goes berserk? Will he punish me?â
Her gaze was fixed on his intense eyes, then dropped to his length. Her pussy clenched with a mix of fear and anticipation.
She licked her lips, and spoke with a trembling but bold voice. "Iâm not lying. Also, I donât think I can keep up anymore. My bodyâs too tired, so youâll have to handle it yourself."
She leaned forward, licking him once, then pulled back, opening her mouth and rolling out her tongue.
Using her fingers, she stretched her cheeks, offering herself.
Isaacâs lips twitched.
"Innocent my foot," he said, seeing the desperate need in her eyes, wanting him to use her.
He slapped his shaft against her cheek, playing along.
"Who told you to fake sleep?" he asked with a stern voice.
"N-no one," she replied, her eyes glued to him.
"Iâm not going to do anything if you donât answer," he warned, slapping her cheek again lightly.
Emily hesitated, her body trembling with desire.
"A-Alice," she admitted.
"What did she tell you?" he pressed, moving closer, teasing her.
She swallowed, her pussy clenching as he hovered near her mouth.
"Alice said to send her a video of us... in exchange, she told me to wear less and sleep defenselessly to make you pounce on me," she confessed, her cheeks flushing.
"So, you wanted your husband to rape you, you crazy bitch?" he said.
A deep shudder ran through Emily at the insults. Her breathe came in gasps and she could feel herself on the verge of another climax.
Emily looked at him and nodded silently.
She slowly reached out, rubbing him with her hand, then kissed the tip, tasting their mixed fluids.
Her eyes locked on his, bold and pleading.
Isaacâs control snapped. He grabbed her head, guiding himself into her mouth, thrusting fully.
Emily moaned. The vibration of her throat sent wild sensations through him. He moved relentlessly, using her mouth as sheâd offered. Her lips were tight around him, and her tongue teased him with every thrust.
Instead of resisting the forceful actions, Emily embraced them and sunk into pleasure.
Her moans were muffled by his shaft. Her body trembled as she climaxed again, from the simple fact that he was using her like a flesh toy.
Her hands gripped his thighs, steadying herself as he moved. The water continued to fall around them, making her skin slick.
Isaac shifted, tilting her head slightly to deepen the angle.
He moved her head, varying the pace, sometimes slow and deep, sometimes quick, letting her adjust but never giving her a moment of rest.
"Emily," he groaned, his voice rough with pleasure.
She responded with a hum. Her eyes were half-closed, lost in the moment. Then, as if to push him further, she tightened her lips, creating an insane suction that made his knees buckle.
The pressure was overwhelming. Her tongue swirled as she sucked harder, and her cheeks hollowed.
Isaacâs grip on her hair tightened. His thrusts grew erratic as the pleasure built.
With a low groan, he erupted into her mouth. Emilyâs body shuddered, her own climax hitting simultaneously.
Isaacâs eyes, slit-pupiled from his dragon instincts, flickered back to normal as the haze of desire cleared.
He looked down at her, his chest heaving, and a pang of guilt hit him.
Heâd been forceful, treating her like a toy in the heat of the moment, driven by her teasing and his pent-up need.
Her lips were still wrapped around him, and her expression was dazed but content, but he worried heâd gone too far.
"Emily, Iâm sorry aboutâ" he started, his voice thick with concern, trying to pull back to let her breathe.
But Emilyâs hand shot up, wrapping around him, holding him in place as if determined not to waste a single drop.
She gulped. Her throat worked despite the difficulty,
Her eyes were locked on his, showing a mix of defiance and desire in her gaze.
She suckled gently, drawing out every last bit from him, and her lips teased him even in her exhaustion.
Finally, she released him with a soft pop. Her breath was ragged, and her lips glistened as she leaned back against the shower wall.
...
Alice POV
Alice lay curled beneath the quilt in her familyâs mansion.
The room was dim and quiet except for the soft rustle of fabric as she shifted.
The bed felt too big, and empty without Isaac beside her.
Loneliness gnawed at her like a sharp ache. She missed his warmth, his touch, the way he grounded her when her instincts threatened to take over.
Her dragon bloodline, powerful but wild, made it hard to be apart from him, stirring desires that burned hotter with each passing day.
She clutched Isaacâs sweat-soaked shirt, one sheâd secretly swapped for a clean one before leaving the house.
It was a practiced technique, honed over years of sneaking his used clothes without him noticing.
The shirt carried his scentâearthy, masculine, unmistakably himâand it sent a shiver through her as she pressed it to her face.
Her fingers moved beneath the quilt, touching herself slowly. The sensation was heightened by the smell of his clothes.
She closed her eyes, imagining his hands on her, his breath against her skin, the way heâd claim her with that mix of tenderness and force. The shirtâs scent anchored her to those memories, making her ache for him even more.
Without Isaac, her dragon instincts were going wild, and her bloodline was urging her to seek him out.
Sheâd come to the mansion to learn techniques to tame those instincts.
But for now, alone in her bed, she could only find temporary relief as her fingers mimicked the rhythm she craved from him.
A sudden ping from her device broke the silence.
Aliceâs eyes snapped open, and she snatched it from the nightstand with a racing heart.
A notification blinked. Emily had sent a video.
She tapped it, starting the download, and stared at the blurry thumbnail.
âItâs from the bathroom,â she thought. âGood thing I kept a camera there too.â
Emily knew about the camera, of course.
Alice had planned it that way, anticipating Isaacâs move.
Sheâd told Emily to fake sleep to entice him, knowing he might resist out of some gentlemanly impulse.
If that failed, Alice had suggested Emily retreat to the shower, certain Isaacâs pent-up desiresâfueled by his own draconic bloodlineâwould lead him there.
Alice understood the insanity of draconic bloodline all too well. There was no way Isaac could control them after seeing Emilyâs naked figure.
What Alice didnât know was that her own instincts were stronger than his.
Isaacâs Hollow Crown Physique gave him an emperor-like demeanor, allowing him to show restraint and dignity.
But Alice didnât have that. Her dragon instincts would make her go wild if she spent a day without her mateâs touch, and she had already spent two days without being intimate with him.
âIâm hopeless. Just a few hours away from Isaac, and Iâm like this.â
Sheâd hoped there were some techniques passed through her family that would teach her to control these instincts.
But here, in the quiet of her room, those instincts ruled her.
The video finished downloading, and Alice muted it before pressing play.
The screen lit up, showing Isaac pinning Emily against the bathroom wall. His movements were forceful, and raw.
Alice used her thumb to cover Emilyâs figure, imagining herself in her place, Isaacâs hands on her, his body claiming her with that same intensity.
Her fingers resumed their work, matching the rhythm on the screen.
The sight of Isaac, even through a lens, stirred her, making her body respond as if he were there.
She pressed the shirt closer, inhaling deeply, letting his scent fill her senses.
Her movements grew faster. Her breaths became uneven, as she lost herself in the fantasy.
The video looped, Isaacâs relentless pace unchanging, and Aliceâs pleasure built. Her dragon instincts amplified every sensation.
She bit her lip, stifling a moan as her body trembled under the quilt.
"Isaac," she moaned.