The priestess laid in the satin sheets upon the sweet scented bed, her nude form spread before the mighty Beast.

His dark form, his body scarred by many wars, his left eye a mere socket, above her.

She felt his breathe against her neck.

“Master J’Kalara, I am yours, my body is for you to do what you wish! My womb is for your seed, to make our children, let me be your vessel…”



She felt him push inside of her, her fingers digging into his shoulder.

He pushed deeper inside of her, claiming his queen.

Moans escaped her lips, hisses erupted from him.

They became one, his seed rushed inside her, and she was pleased.

She was born for this, the creation of life, to grow in her womb, blessed by the Gods themselves.

“I feel…..” Queen L’Sa wrapped herself around him, her king, her God.

He moved through the castle, his eyes scanning forward.

The crown worn weary upon his brow.

“Is his majesty not happy with his whore queen spread before his mighty spear?” The sorcess hissed in mocking tones.

J’Kalara’s hands grasped her by the throat, choking her breath from her.

“Do not tempt Me in killing thee!!” He growled, pushing her hard against the castle’s wall. “I shall let thee know the feeling of my spear…..”

He kissed her hard, lifting her silky skirt around her waist.

He pushed his body against her, she felt his spear push deep inside of her, a moan escaping from her pressed lips.

There in the moonlight, without the blessings of the Goddess, another life was created, Zsara, the bastard son, the killer of his father twenty years later.

Zsara would have the bloods of his half-siblings on his hands, his half-sister’s virginity still covering his sword.

He had found her, at the same altar of her creation, crying over the bodies of her now slain parents.

“This is the end my princess, but the beginning….”

Three guards rushed him and their now headless bodies laid sprawled on the floor.

She tried to fight him, he sneered as he forced her face into the cold hard stone floor.

“In our father’s name, I claim thee as my queen….”

She cried, raging against him, fighting him as he planted his seed.

Afterwards, in mockery of the Gods and his father’s name, his seed still flowing into his sister’s womb, he slit her throat.

“To Kar, I give thee this whore!!” He growled, cleaning his knife in the silks of his sister.

Kar, the God of War, gave his most blessings on Zsara.

His kingdom ranged from the Northern Seas, across the Great Deserts of D’harakan to the Southern Seas, to even the Isles of G’kar, the port cities fell hard.

Zsara would father the many kings of the Second Dynasty, his own reign lasting many generations, his castle built upon the bones of his enemies, his concubines, even his own children who dare defied him.

The last of the true Kings of Silvermynx.

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