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The Beauty of a Beast

The Dragorian Empire was vast and powerful. It swept across the land like a plague, destroying everything and bringing it under the control of Emperor Zinj. Bloodthirsty and ruthless, he ruled the Empire with an iron fist. However, in order to consolidate his power and solidify his reign, he needed to establish a dynasty. He had countless wives and concubines, but none seemed capable of bearing him a child. He did have one son, however, the Crown Prince Daimon. It was under Daimon’s command that the armies of the Empire laid waste to countless kingdoms, crushing all resistance, and bringing them under his father’s control. His fearsome countenance, commanding presence, and bloodthirsty nature resulted in him being bestowed with the title, the Beast. Lady Rowena, the only child of King Roland and Queen Mathilde of the Solarillon Kingdom, has been chosen to be the bride of the Crown Prince Daimon. A terrified and reluctant bride, she is hastily shuffled off to the heart of the Dragorian Empire to be wed to the scourge of the world. _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ Excerpt: “Come here, Dear Husband.” She patted the bed beside her. His eyes widened in shock. His body seemed paralyzed even as it burned with lust. He swallowed hard and subconsciously licked his lips. Seeing his hesitation, she moved her shoulder just enough for her gown to slide a few inches off of it to reveal her pale creamy skin. Then she pulled at the ties to the neckline of her nightgown undoing the bow and loosening them enough to reveal a generous amount of the upper swells of her bountiful breasts. Seeing his interest, she then ran her slender fingers down her breasts, over her softly rounded stomach, and down her long legs. His eyes hungrily followed her every movement. Aware of his intense gaze devouring her, she pouted sexily and asked him “Or do you not find your bride attractive?” Rooted to the spot, his mouth opened and closed several times without making any sounds. He shook his head to clear the fog in his brain. At last he spoke, “Do you know what you’re doing?” His voice was thick and hoarse with lust and his throat was dry. She laughed, her voice thick and sweet as honey. “I’m a virgin, but I’ve been instructed in the arts of the bedchamber.” She rose to her knees, dropping all pretense of being a shy blushing bride, and looked deeply into his eyes. “Do not worry, Husband. I have been an excellent student in both theory and practice.” He swallowed hard as his heart raised, his hands became clammy, and his groin tightened painfully. “That’s…that’s not what I meant.” He stammered sweating profusely. _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ How will she survive being thrown into the Beast’s lair? Can this beauty tame the Beast and rule as Empress?

BatOctopiSnakeSpdr · Fantasía
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151 Chs

Chapter 3: Spoils of War

Lord Trey's horse managed to break through the confusion, and he galloped full speed towards safety. The rest would be collateral damage. He could afford that. The important thing was to live to see another day.

Suddenly, his horse reared and bucked, throwing him off. But instead of falling to the ground, Lord Trey found himself hovering in midair. Terrified, he slowly looked up to see that his belt was grasped firmly in the claws of one of Daimon's strong hands.

Daimon, himself, hovered a few feet above the ground on large black wings. Unlike a bird's wings, these were made of black skin. Red veins were clearly visible pumping blood through them.

Daimon landed, with Lord Trey still struggling futilely in his firm grasp. He lifted him so that they could see eye-to-eye.

"Now you understand your mistake, but it is too late." Daimon growled. Then he bit down on the frightened man, tearing his throat out with one bite

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

While Daimon chased after Lord Trey, General Zhan commanded the troops to make short work of their adversaries. Even those who had not personally witnessed Daimon's transformation, were in a state of shock and confusion at the sudden turn of events. The loss of their leaders caused many to try to desert their posts in desperate last-ditch attempt to save themselves.

But whether they fought bravely or tried to hide, the result was the same – complete annihilation. There wouldn't be any survivors.

In a matter of hours, it was all over.

­­_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Victorious, the Empire's forces marched towards the castle formerly occupied by Lord Trey.

Daimon and Zhan entered Lord Trey's throne room where the Crown Prince's forces had assembled what was left of the kingdom's aristocracy and officials.

Shaking with fear, they bowed to their new ruler. No doubt many feared that they would be killed due to their association with a traitor.

King Leonid, father of Lord Trey, genuflected so low his forehead touched the ground.

"I know I can't make amends for my traitorous offspring, but I want to assure you that it was his own idea and no one currently in this castle had any knowledge of his plans, let alone participated them in any way, unless it was innocuously and unknowingly." Said the old man with a very shaky voice.

"I present my granddaughters to you in hopes that they can, in some small way, show our sincerity." He said obsequiously.

"They are identical twins." He said with lascivious undertone as he dragged two frightened girls forward and pushed them into a deep bow. His handling was so rough that the poor girls tripped and fell face-first at Daimon's feet. Terrified, they did not even dare to look up.

Daimon was disgusted. The girls were just that -- little girls. At barely 12 years old, they appeared to have just hit puberty.

"Not necessary." Daimon said coldly.

"But Your Highness," the old king started to protest. He stopped seeing Daimon's cold gaze upon him.

"I'm sorry they are not to your liking." He appeared angry, not at Daimon, but at the girls themselves. As if it was their own fault that they weren't older and more seductive.

"General?" he let the rest of the question remain unspoken. General Zhan's libido was legendary. Perhaps, he would take these two useless spawns of his dead son Trey.

General Zhan too was appalled. He only bedded women not little girls. He was offended that anyone would think otherwise.

"Children do not serve men." General Zhan said firmly.

The king wisely understood and spoke no more on the matter.

Bored and angry, Daimon waved his hand in dismissal. The king, his granddaughters, and any other family members were confined to their own quarters under house arrest. The other nobles and officials were sent to the castle's dungeons to await judgement.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Daimon and Zhan sat in the dining hall discussing their victory and planning the next steps. Their enemies were effectively decimated. They would cause no more trouble. The living relatives and officials, however, were another matter entirely.

They could leave the old king in power as a puppet, but neither man trusted that he was unaware of his son's ambitions.

However, per the Emperor's decree, Daimon also had to decide on the appropriate restitution for the trouble they caused as well as the tribute they would be forced to present monthly for the honor of being part of the Dragorian Empire.

"What of the twins?" Zhan asked. He did not want them for himself. He was serious that they were too young. However, he was concerned about them as their own grandfather had no qualms against using them to save himself.

"I don't want my father to get ahold of them. They are very young. They do not stand much of a chance here either." Daimon mused.

Their discussion was interrupted by the arrival of a courier sent by the Emperor Zinj himself. He seemed to have a supernatural ability to know when Daimon was victorious as the couriers would always arrive within 48 hours of his victory regardless of the distance such events were from his castle. Or, perhaps, he just assumed Daimon would be victorious and dispatched couriers as soon as Daimon marched into battle.

"Your Honorable Father, as always, is beyond pleased with your success. He is anxious for your return to celebrate this momentous occasion with a grand celebration. General Zhan will also be honored as well" he said with a nod to the General.

Daimon grimaced. There was nothing he hated more than pomp and circumstance. He was tired of his Father's endless wasteful parties designed to conspicuously show off his wealth while many of the people they conquered starved.

"Another party?" he growled. "Isn't he tired of throwing parties yet?" he muttered.

"But this isn't just any party" the courier said. "This one is very different."

"How is this one different?"

"It's…" the courier hesitated as he took long quick strides backwards. He was already to the entrance of the tent and getting ready to sprint to his horse when he said, "It's your wedding, My Lord."

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