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Long month is long, but that just means more M-Preg March from yours truly! Here we are, with the third exciting chapter of The New City! If you find yourself interested in the story and what has come before, then you really ought to take a looksie at Creating Bonds and Establishing Control before you get into this particular story, as it doesn't exactly elaborate on everything that's come before it. And the story's starting to pick up, now, too! You don't wanna miss it, so don't let me distract you much longer! Read on, and enjoy!

• Faora, of the Frost's Chill

Citadel's Secrets

The Serevokin Citadel stood just north of the heart of Astikorranna, clearly distinguishable from the buildings around it. Great obelisks of crystal and marble reached towards the starry sky. Runes covered its surface, engraved with care over generations of Serevokin to tell the complete history of their race in their native tongue. As time rolled along, more Serevokin added their stories to the citadel's engravings. The building itself may as well have been a living thing, what with how it changed and evolved over the years. It was the new citadel of the Serevokin people; the old one had stood at the center of the old Serevokin city. Like the old ways and the old Serevokin, that building had been left to crumble and decay.

It was the citadel that Silikaerati and Tyren sought. The seat of Serevokin power, it was there that Kaer knew he would be able to find his brotherkin. His older brother served as a guardian during the night shifts there, and he was the only being in the entire city that Kaer knew he could trust beyond his vulpine mate. The things that the newly mated pair had seen and overheard were too great to go directly to the authorities in the citadel.

Not without protection. As the red-scaled Serevokin and the black-furred Lissak fox leaned out from around a stone building to stare up at the citadel's impressive visage, Kaer hesitated. He spared the fox at his side a glance, though Tyren was too awestruck with the sight of the citadel to notice him. If a fight was to come at some point during the night - and Kaer had to believe that there was a possibility of it - the fox would be vulnerable. However good a combatant Tyren might end up being, he could not survive against Serevokin in such numbers. "You should remain here," he said quietly.

That snapped Tyren's head around, and his silver eyes shimmered in the torchlight as he looked quizzically up at his mate. "You should know that's not going to happen," he retorted firmly, but equally quietly. "You want to protect me, I know. I want to protect you, too."

"I am not the pregnant one," retorted Kaer as he leaned back against the building. "And you are not exactly going to be safe if things go bad in there, Tyren. I will not risk my mate in such a place. I will not risk my progeny, and yours. Neither should you." Those silver eyes seemed to flash for a brief moment, quick enough that Kaer wondered if he'd seen anything at all.

Tyren's lips curled into a grimace, but he nodded. "Then I propose a compromise. We both enter, but I stay by the entrance. If you do not return within a certain length of time, I will go to get help." He folded his arms and nodded once more. "That is not an option, Kaer. I will see you to your brother, and then await your return. This is how it will be, and no, you do not have a say in the matter."

The fire in the fox's voice brought a faint smile to Kaer's lips in the torchlight. "I see. And who was it that gave you the right to speak in such a way to your Serevokin mate?"

"I believe his name was Aliastikora," Tyren shot wryly back, his own smile wide as he nodded towards the citadel. "Now come, before I pounce you here and now for not helping me finish after what happened back in that den."

While the thought of his vulpine hilted on his malehood did slip into Kaer's mind, the Serevokin firmly pushed it away. He nodded back to Tyren as he slipped out from around the building. He heard the fox fall into step behind him, and Kaer tilted his head up as he strode towards the massive, glass doors that marked the entrance to the citadel.

The draconic found himself pausing even before he reached those doors. Another Serevokin slipped out from around a tall hedge, his scales the same shade of red as Kaer's own. A little taller and more muscular than Kaer, his eyes were a brilliant yellow rather than Kaer's fiery orange. Unlike the couple, the Serevokin before them wore a simple loincloth and belt. Attached to it was a long sheath, and the hilt of a sword rested against his side. Kaer smiled as the draconic's hand lifted up and off the hilt of the weapon. "Laran, greetings. How goes your night?"

The Serevokin smirked as he shrugged. "Suddenly a little less boring," he replied, as he strode over to the pair. He paused in front of Kaer for a moment, before he wrapped the smaller male in a hug. "It is good to see you, Kaer. I thought you would be still in the Shal'kol at this point, or at home." His eyes drifted over to the black-furred vulpine, and his eyeridges lifted slightly. "However, I smell the rut on you both. I take it this is your mate?"

Kaer nodded as he stepped to the side to give the taller Serevokin a better look. "This is he. Tyren, this is Sholaranati, my brotherkin. He is the one we are here to see."

"Call me Laran, please. There is no need to be so formal amongst family." The Serevokin bowed his head slightly as he regarded Tyren. "The honour is mine, both to meet the mate of my brotherkin and to meet one of the Lo'tyren'naka. I trust Kaer was not too rough on you? I know from experience how... eager he can become at times."

As Tyren's ears flattened against the top of his head and he glanced away with embarrassment, Kaer reached up to place a hand on Laran's shoulder. "There is little time for introductions, brother. There is a matter of great urgency we must discuss with you. We do not know who we can trust."

For a moment, Laran looked between Kaer and Tyren with confusion. Then, seeing the intensity of their expressions, he nodded. "Come inside, then. I get the feeling I may wish to be seated to hear this."

Laran led the pair into the citadel and through the expansive foyer to a small room off to one side. Compared to the opulent foyer - itself a massive dome taller than many other buildings in the city supported by great pillars of stone and massive spiral staircases - the little room was little more than an office with a desk and a small rack of weapons. There on the desk he sat down, folded his arms, and asked what was so urgent that they had to run right to him. Explaining all that Kaer and Tyren had seen and heard to Laran hadn't taken long. The older Serevokin listened intently to the whole story, and he kept silent as his younger brother told everything.

When both Kaer and Tyren fell silent at last, Laran leaned thoughtfully forward. "Well, you were right to come here," he finally said, as he glanced out the still-open door. "This is not good. There have been rumours in the city for years about this sort of thing. They have become more common of late, though we guardians are not given leave to investigate. Too wild and crazy, we are told." He glanced over at Tyren. "It was a Lissak like yourself who last came in. He was half mad, I was convinced. Spoke of a sect of Serevokin that had enslaved him, that he had escaped just after birthing a Serevokin child and before they could exert their will over him again. He spoke of the Cult of Rolkotarni."

Kaer frowned. "I know that name."

"As well you should," Laran replied with a nod, as he turned to fully face Tyren. "Rolkotarni was the Serevokin who first established the old way. He was the draconic who discovered that we could breed the other races to propagate our numbers, and it was he who established the old code of laws regarding such things. It was his way that Aliastikora overturned when Astikoranna was under construction and the Serevokin Alliance was in its infancy."

"Then these Serevokin are interested in reinstating this Rolkotarni's system of Serevokin rule?" asked Tyren.

All Laran did was shrug as he stood up. "I do not know what this sect wishes, or even if it really exists. Given the rumours flitting about the city and what you two discovered tonight, I would not rule it out." He crossed the room quickly to a small rack, and picked up a sheathed sword attached to a loincloth much like his own. "Kaer, you will come with me. We will move up the citadel and approach my superior, Lonusarakii, with this. If nothing else, the keeping of hashrah must be dealt with."

The younger draconic nodded once as he extended a hand to accept the weapon. He tied the loincloth off around his waist as he turned to Tyren. "I know you wish to accompany us, but if things go bad I would wish you unharmed. We made a bargain, Tyren. I expect you to stay here until Laran or I return. Understood?"

The expression on the vulpine's face showed just what he thought of that idea, but he nevertheless nodded his acceptance. Kaer nodded back as he waved Laran towards the door, and he followed his older brother out with a sigh. "I wish he had not come with me at all," he muttered. "I would not see him put in danger if I could at all prevent it."

"You do him honour with your concern, but do not let that affect your mind at present," replied Laran as he started up a tall, spiral staircase of marble. "If things go badly for us, then you cannot afford to think of his safety. He will be alright as long as he stays put."

Something about the tautness in Laran's voice drew Kaer's hand instinctively to rest on the hilt of his sword. "Do you believe that things will not go so smoothly with your supervisor?" he asked, as he looked up the stairs. The steps themselves hid the top from view, but he could see the roof of the foyer come closer as they ascended.

Laran simply shrugged as he glanced back over his shoulder. "You yourself said that the master of these Serevokin resided within the citadel. Few Serevokin actually live here, and only those in high positions do so. Usara is one such... and with the power to prevent investigations into the keeping of hashrah if he so wished. For all we know, my supervisor could well be their master."

"And we are going to him with this information of ours... why?"

"Because if he is not their master and not involved, he will be able to aid us in our investigation," Laran replied with a smirk. "Because if he is their master, we need to put a stop to him ourselves. That would be why we are armed. I trust your combat training has been completed satisfactorily?"

Kaer simply snorted as he nodded. "Hardly the best of my class, but sufficiently to fight at your side competently." He paused near the top of the stairs as he reached up to grip at his brother's shoulder. "Someone is up there."

The older Serevokin nodded as he too froze up. "Possibly just another night guardian. Still, we cannot afford to simply stand on the stairs all night." He turned and looked over Kaer's face, and noted the determination spread across it with a smile. "Come. And be ready for anything."

When they reached the top of the stairs, they only found themselves halted again. Four Serevokin stood in the hallway the stairs led to. Three were armed with the blades of the citadel's guardians, while one blue draconic wore the elaborate, layered black robes of a commander. The four draconics fixed their eyes almost lazily on Kaer and Laran, as the brothers paused for a moment.

Eventually, the silence was broken by the commander. "Sholaranati. Why have you abandoned your post? And why have you brought another up through the citadel? This is highly irregular behaviour, guardian."

Laran dropped slowly to one knee as he pressed his fist to the center of his chest, and bowed his head. "Commander Lonusarakii. This is my brother, Silikaerati. Kaer and his First have discovered something in the city below that warrants immediate attention. Something that warrants abandoning my post."

As the older brother spoke, one of the other guardians tensed slightly. His hand dropped to the hilt of his sword, before another guardian placed a hand on his shoulder. "Peace, please. There is no need to be drawing our weapons here in the citadel. The trouble is below." He waved a hand towards Laran, and the watched as his subordinate rose to his feet again before he turned his attention to Kaer. "Now, young one. Speak of the trouble you found."

"There are hashrah," he replied immediately, as he drew himself up straight and tall. "One I am aware of for certain, and others that the Serevokin I observed have made reference to. It is possible that many draconics in Astikorranna are keeping breeder-toys." As Usara frowned, Kaer took a deep breath before he continued. "Commander, they spoke of a master and a potion of some variety. Lives have been lost already due to this potion, though its purpose is unknown to me. Their master is supposed to be in the citadel, right now."

Laran nodded once. "I believe this information is related to the rumours we have been hearing for the last few years, regarding the Cult of Rolkotarni. We suspect that these Serevokin that Kaer oversaw are members of this group, and that they are working to restore the old order. This would be disasterous."

A tired sigh slipped from Usara's lips as he hung and shook his head. "These rumours... they never abate, do they? Always do they persist, despite how ridiculous they are." He looked up again, and there was a new determination in his face. "Kaer. Have you any more information that could lead us to these people? All of them?"

The red draconic shook his head slowly. "No, commander. Only the location of one hashrah, and they are completely under their master's control. I could offer you the core names of those Serevokin that I know are involved - Soka and Tekar - however more information will require investigation that is beyond my rights as a citizen of the Serevokin Alliance."

A quiet hiss slipped out of Usara's muzzle before he began to nod slowly. "Then that is it," he replied, as he clasped his hands together before him. "There is no point. We will not take action against this hashrah at this time. I will personally go to see those draconics you have named tomorrow, and have a few words with them. Beyond that, we will see how things progress." He bowed his head slightly. "Thank you for this information, Kaer. Laran, please escort your brotherkin out."

Confusion washed over the elder brother's expression as he glanced over at Kaer. Kaer's face mirrored Laran's, as they both turned back to Usara. "Commander, with all respect... is not our purpose to protect the peoples of this city and alliance? Are we not bound by our duty to investigate and bring in this Tekar and Soka?"

A tinge of anger began to colour Usara's features as he stared hard down his muzzle at Laran. "And the laws of this city are complicated, guardian Laran," he replied. "I assure you that Tekar and Soka will be spoken with to determine just what is going on. If you ever rise to the rank of commander, you too will be forced to understand the full extend of our laws. You are a blade, Laran, for me to direct. Nothing more."

Laran frowned as he looked over Usara's face. "But I still do not understand. The laws are complicated, but not for such a thing as hashrah. We must act on this information immediately. Our laws are very clear on what we must do now. Aliastikora himself very directly stated that the laws would tell us to-"

"Our laws are about to change, Laran," the blue-scaled male interrupted. He drew a sword of his own from within his robes in a single swift motion, and the tip pressed up against Laran's throat before he could even blink. At their master's words, the three Serevokin beside him all raised their own weapons. "What young Kaer here has discovered is only the beginning. Soon, the Serevokin will be free to openly exert our dominance once again. The pitiful races of this land will tremble as we crush them completely." A growl mingled with a sigh as he looked between the two brothers. "I wish you had simply left. This could have been so much easier."

Kaer growled quietly as he felt a clawed hand grip at his shoulder, followed closely by the flat of a sword pressed against his back as one of Usara's guardians moved behind him. The wrong move would send the edge up and deep under his hard scales. "What you say is either insanity or stupidity," the younger brother spat as he tilted his head up. "We cannot survive without them. This is fact, Usara. We cannot change it."

The blue Serevokin turned to Kaer, as a ghost of a smile touched his muzzle. "That was Aliastikora's thought, as well. The fool brought Yesth'kari upon his brotherkin, and then used his exile to undermine all that the Serevokin stood for. For what? For an end to all that we were, and for our enslavement at the hand-paws of those who are our lesser!" Usara's eyes grew wild as he spoke, his words more and more animated. "Aliastikora tried to destroy all that the Serevokin were! He abandoned all our ways to shape a future of his design!"

"He shaped a future that works, Usara," Laran bit out, his eyes fixed on the sword pressed to his throat. "What happens when we kill all of those who we require to continue our lineage? What happens when there are no more males of the other species to breed? Shall we take hold of feral animals and force our seed into them, instead?"

Usara snorted as he shook his head. "What happens next is none of your concern, Laran. Your services here in the citadel are no longer required, but do not fear. Your progeny will know both yourself and your brotherkin as heroes of the Serevokin people, a pair who sacrificed their lives for the greater good." The blue draconic nodded towards Kaer. "Kill him."

Kaer moved, even before the order had been completed. His tail lashed out behind him and whipped across the torso of the Serevokin that had held him. The draconic's sword dropped from his hand as he slammed into the wall, and Kaer leaned back just in time to hear the whistle of another blade as it sliced through the air where his head had been a moment earlier. As he straightened up and lifted his own sword, he swung it about just quickly enough to block a second slash from the guard to his front.

Laran wasn't so lucky. The older brother tried to twist himself away from Usara's blade, but the commander was quicker. A line of liquid crimson marked the wall as the blade sliced across Laran's throat. He fell to the ground as one of his hands rushed to his neck, and rage lit up his eyes as he licked Usara's legs out from underneath him. Laran's free arm whipped up as one of the commander's guards drove his sword's tip down towards the fallen Serevokin, and the older brother all but roared as he pushed his arm between the blade and his face.

The sword shot right down through Laran's arm, but he only pushed his arm up higher along the steel until he felt the crossguard press against his scales. As he pushed himself up by his tail, the red draconic wrenched his arm to the side and pulled the sword completely out of his assailant's hands. That Serevokin backed up as he found himself disarmed, and Laran dropped his hand from his freshly healed neck to pull the stolen sword right out of his arm without so much of a grimace. His other hand drew his own weapon, and he snarled wordlessly as he advanced on the guard.

For his part, Kaer found himself locked in a deadly dance with one of the other guardians. He brought his blade up before his head and twisted it around, and grunted as the white-scaled Serevokin in front of him drove his weapon down with all his strength. Kaer pushed back up against the blow and spun about, and he sliced hard towards his opponent's middle. The blow was swiftly parried, and a quick flick of the guardian's weapon was enough to pull Kaer's weapon out of his grasp. The younger brother didn't stop for a second, though.

He threw himself bodily on his assailant with a roar of his own. The white Serevokin couldn't bring his blade back down in time to stop the younger male's charge, and the two tumbled down to the floor. Disoriented as his head struck the ground, the white draconic desperately brought his arms up to cover his face as Kaer brought his clawed hands down again and again. He rained blows down on the Serevokin's defences, until finally the male's arms broke apart and exposed his face. Kaer's fist uncurled, and he drove his hand claws-first into the guard's face. His talons sank in deep as he growled, and within moments the white male's body began to twitch in its death throes as Kaer gripped him by the face and slammed his head again and again into the stone floor.

Laran became a whirlwind. He spun about, one sword in each hand as he batted aside the strikes of Usara's guards. Two guards tried to press in against him, but their every slash was parried by his dizzying swings. One of them managed to bat aside one of Laran's wild slashes, but then the red draconic's other blade came down and bit deep into his shoulder. That guard's blood soaked the floor as Laran pulled one weapon free and stabbed the other deep into his chest. No sooner had the steel sunk into and through the guardian's heart than Laran lifted one leg for a harsh kick that threw the fallen enemy clear of his blade.

By the time the guard Kaer had pummelled lay still, the one he'd knocked down with his tail had clawed his way back upright. The younger male tried to swing his sword up and behind him as he heard the guardian approach, but he wasn't quick enough. Agony lanced through the side of his chest as he felt it pierced by the fighter's sword, and he shuddered and grunted as he watched the crimson-soaked blade begin to drip with his blood. Then he grunted sharply as something heavy slammed hard into the back of his head, and the world vanished beneath the veil of unconsciousness.

A line of pain traced quickly over Laran's back as he turned towards Kaer, and he cried out as he slumped forward. He rolled onto his back in time to see Usara, the commander's blade reddened with blood as the other guard he'd fought raised his sword high above him. "Wait," Usara commanded as he raised a free hand. Despite his words, the blue draconic drove his own blade down hard into Laran's gut. Laran roared out in pain as he felt himself pierced anew, and that roar shifted pitch as the weapon was twisted hard to the right. "No... no, I do not think you will die here today, Laran. Not you, not your brother. You will live - both of you - to see the birth of a new future, a new world led by the strength of true Serevokin such as we."

Usara gave Laran no time to think about what he had said. He snatched the sword from his guardian's hand, crouched down, and slammed the hilt of the weapon down against Laran's head. The pain from the blow lasted only a moment before Laran's vision blurred and fell into darkness, and the last thing he saw before the black claimed him was Usara's smug smile.

When he came to, Kaer winced and groaned quietly with pain. The back of his head throbbed from where he had been struck, and he groaned again as he lay his head back against something cool and hard. The Serevokin began to slowly open his eyes as he tried to sit up, before he realized that he was up. Kaer's eyes shot open as he tried to move, and found that he was completely immobile.

The room was carved entirely of solid white stone, polished to a light shine. Arcane sconces shed equally white light throughout the half of the room closest to the draconic. Hooks were stuck in place along the wall to either side of Kaer's body, and thick leather straps were drawn taut across his body. It pressed him effectively against the stone, unable to move and barely able to turn his head. His gaze dipped down instead to his spread legs, and the body that rested between them. It was Laran, bound face-first down against a table of iron by the same straps that held the younger brother. His tail was curled up and against his back, kept in place by the same straps that contained him. A quick glance down further showed a rail that ran from under the table and right against the wall, between Kaer's legs. "Laran! Laran, wake up!"

"Oh, I'm afraid he'll be unconscious for quite some time longer," came a quiet voice from the shadows across the room. "He was given a powerful sedative, and I understand that even Serevokin cannot resist its effects. Fortunately, he needn't be awake for our purposes. You, on the other paw, most certainly do."

A frown creased Kaer's face as he pulled against his restraints again. The voice was male, but it wasn't possessed of the same husky depth as that of a Serevokin. "You would do well to release me from these restraints, whoever you are," he said. "I promise you no harm if you do, and a great deal if you refuse."

The only response for a moment was a little chuckle from the room's other occupant. "Like the harm you visited upon my allies in the citadel? No, I think you'll find yourself quite powerless in this room, my scaled friend. I think you'll also not care about me in the slightest within a few moments." The sound of wood on stone reached Kaer, and the draconic suspected that the speaker had just stood from a chair. "Actually, I should offer you some very heartfelt thanks. None of the Serevokin in our ranks were willing to be the first trials for this test. Thanks to you and your brother, none of them need be put at risk."

Somewhere in the room beyond Kaer's limited sight range came a dull, mechanical clunk. "Ah, and there it is now. Forgive me if I stay over here and observe. We really don't know what's about to happen, though we have suspicions and hopes." The voice seemed both amused and intent at the same time. "You see, the room is presently being filled with a vapour from a lab below you. It is rising all around you, now... can you smell it, Serevokin? Something familiar, but you just can't place it? Something that's affecting you, but you don't know how, or why?"

The truth of the speaker's words was very apparent to Kaer. His vision began to grow fuzzy as he detected the scent that he'd been told about, something sharp and almost spicy in the air. It was strange, otherworldly and completely odd, yet somehow powerfully familiar. For as how different and inconceivable as it was, Kaer couldn't deny the allure of it. There was something deep buried beneath that scent that he recognized. There was something distinctly male about it.

The draconic's body tingled as he looked down over himself. The lips of his genital slit parted as he groaned, and within a few moments the tip of his malehood began to peek out. The sound of more mechanical grinding reached Kaer, and it drew his attention reluctantly from his extending shaft back down to his brother again. Laran's body began to rise up and towards Kaer's, before the younger brother realized that Laran was not moving himself. Instead, the slab he rested on was moving, drawn by some mechanism he could not see. As he watched his brother's body draw closer, Kaer found his eyes fixed on Laran's exposed backside. That tail, raised as he had seen it so often before, almost begging to be... "No... what is this?" The words were Kaer's, but the voice that came from him sounded wrong. Distant.

"Oh, forget the questions, Serevokin," replied the voice softly, almost tauntingly, as the scent in the room intensified. Even as the words reached Kaer, the young male found his hips straining towards Laran's rump of their own accord. His malehood made it abundantly clear what it thought in those moments. "There is no place for them now. Just relax."

Relaxing was the last thing that Kaer found himself able to do. His muscles stiffened as he took a long, deep breath, and found a certain truth in his captor's words. There was no place for questions, no room to resist. A tingle of physical touch ground along the underside of his malehood's tip, and Kaer looked down to find that the slab that Laran rested on had come to a halt right beneath him. Fresh appeal for his brotherkin's body washed through the younger male's mind, and a groan escaped him as he strained once more against his restraints.

Sudden clarity burst through the haze of lust and need and desire that filled Kaer's mind as he wriggled against his restraints. His head could barely move. His arms were stuck to his sides. His feet pressed firmly against the wall. But his hips were mobile; his hips could move. That strong, overpowering, overwhelming scent in the air went to work and connected the dots together in Kaer's cloudy thoughts, and told him all he needed to know. Hard shaft. Tight tailhole. Within reach. Thrust. Hilt. Mate. Rut. Breed.

Purely on instinct, Kaer drew his hips back until the touch of the base of his brother's tail vanished. Then he rolled his hips down and thrust forward, and Kaer felt himself rewarded with a spark of pleasure as he mashed the tip of his shaft against Laran's rump. That spark was fanned by the intense scent in the air, and Kaer groaned as he thrust again and again and again. Time after time Kaer missed his mark, and the cleft of his brother's backside glistened with pre stamped down by each attempt.

It was food to starvation, water to thirst, air to suffocation. Kaer hit his mark; his tip surged forward and slammed into Laran's tailhole, and pushed right on through by brute force. He pulled himself as hard against the wall as he could, but found himself still held perfectly in place. His hips pushed forward, but only so far. His groan of pleasure shifted into a whine of distress as he found that he couldn't fully hilt himself within Laran's body. Those tight inner muscles squeezed around Kaer's shaft, urging and begging him to just slip those last few inches inside, and yet the younger brother was powerless to do just that. He growled as he drew his hips back, and his backside slammed into the wall firmly before he thrust forward again with all of his strength.

Pleasure shot throughout Kaer's body as he drove himself once more into Laran's body. Still, the younger brother found himself unable to fill that snug passage as completely as he knew he was able to. Anger flared through him, only fuelled by the intense sensations brought on by that powerful scent. He strained harder and harder against those straps that held him back, but they refused to budge in the slightest. He cried out as his hips jerked back and forth with all his strength, not far back enough to draw himself free of Laran's body but just far enough that he could move as far as possible.

It was the cruellest tease, though. For how much freedom his hips possessed compared to the rest of his body, for how much pleasure flowed through his body at the sensations provided his malehood by Laran's heat around it, Kaer was taunted by what was before him. Serevokin were not used to such restraint. They were not used to being denied, especially amongst one another. There was no holding back. Never in Kaer's life had he taken a male, and been unable to sink all of his malehood into their body. Never had he been unable to fill them up, to take them with every inch and explore their depths fully. And yet that was what he was exposed to, forced to endure by those terrible bonds around his body.

He couldn't sit still, and he couldn't stop. The heat of Laran's body urged him onwards, as compelling as that scent in the air. It was unquestionable, undeniable. Kaer took all that he could get, and he lay his head back against the wall as his hips drove his malehood forward again and again. Every thrust pushed him as deep within Laran's body as he could possibly go, even as it reminded him of how much deeper he ordinarily would be capable of. It wasn't frustrating enough to make his sudden needs abate in the slightest, though; a part of him attributed that to the scent that flooded the room.

It was that frustration that drove him on, instead. He kept thrusting, and his hips jerked forward harder and faster as he worked himself to the limits of the straps that held him back from what he sought. He felt his malehood drawn deliciously back and forth against Laran's inner walls as his brother unconsciously clenched down around that invading length. Even completely knocked out, something in him knew what was happening to his body. It wasn't the Serevokin way to be easily turned away from such pleasure, and it didn't surprise Kaer in the slightest to feel the barest hint of Laran's hips grinding lightly back up into his thrusts. There was little movement but it certainly helped. It drove the younger brother's shaft just that barest little bit deeper into the older's backside.

Kaer squeezed his eyes shut, eager to force away the sight of the room around him and that of those offending leather lengths that held him back. It only made him more aware of the straps, though. His other senses were heightened; he heard the strain of the leather as he pulled against it, the scent that filled the room mixed with that of the rut going on within it, and Kaer was more than able to feel the way Laran had begun to squeeze down tighter, rhythmically around his length. The frustration only grew greater as Kaer worked himself into an overeager mating frenzy, all lost to his mind save for the sensation of the breeding, the urge to spill his seed, and the need to feel Laran's body wrapped around every inch of his malehood.

Then, it happened. It began with a grind of machinery, and it ended with a firm push back by the slab Laran rested atop. He pulled closer to Kaer just as the younger male thrust in harder still, and a hearty moan of fulfilled need sounded from Kaer's muzzle. He finally felt himself hilted in Laran's body after all the teasing he'd endured. The ridges of his shaft vanished into that tight heat, squeezed tight by his brother's body. He felt the warmth of Laran's body against his, the two connected as pleasure raced through Kaer's body. The tingle within the younger male grew and grew as he hammered away, suddenly unable to stop himself in the heat of the moment. The pleasure was perfect, undeniable, and the rush of it brought Kaer right to the edge.

And then it happened. Images rushed to Kaer's mind through the intense sensations wracking his body, scenes from a room not the same as the one he was in. His body was up higher, and his unbound arms were wrapped around Laran's middle. His hands stroked over a swollen belly, filled with new, growing life the likes of which no Serevokin had created in countless generations. He was hilted within his brotherkin's body, and he felt the pulse of both lives press back against himself as he held Laran tight.

Then the vision was gone beneath the waves of his climax. Kaer pressed himself as deep within Laran's body as he could, unable to stop himself for anything as the first pulse of his seed surged up and along his malehood. Relief washed over him as he felt his essence planted deep within his brother's rump, marking his deepest reaches with jet after hot jet. All Kaer could do was ride it out, a prisoner to sensation as he unloaded everything he had within Laran.

It took a few moments for the pleasure to fade, and a few minutes more before the younger male's muscles calmed enough for him to move again at all. Kaer felt his breath slowly begin to steady as his head slumped back against the wall. The pleasure of his spent orgasm was mixed with confusion at the vision he'd experienced, and it mingled with the sharp scent still strong in the air. He groaned quietly as he forced himself to pull his hips back from Laran's backside, though his still-hard malehood made a full withdrawal impossible. Instead he sighed and ground himself forward again to sink back into that snug, seed-sticky warmth. "What have you done to us?" he growled, voice raised to address the other person he knew was still in the room. "Who are you? What is this scent? Answer me!"

"So full of questions. It's a good thing all Serevokin aren't like you, else I'd never get anything done." Quiet footsteps padded across the stone floor, back and forth as if the speaker was pacing. "The scent is a sort of musk of my own design, brewed not in a body but through chemical interaction. I really must thank some particular Serevokin alchemists; they were able to teach me all I needed to achieve my goals." Again came that amused little chuckle. "But it's so much more than just musk, isn't it? You know. You saw the vision, didn't you?"

With a snarl, Kaer threw himself firmly against his restraints again. The vision was inherent to the Serevokin. Something magical was tapped within the draconics when they bred, something that enabled a brief glimpse of the future. Their sight faded, replaced by a representation of what was to come. Some suspected that it was the conceived child reaching back through time to show their father what they had created. Others believed it a hallucination, brought on by the pleasure of the breeding. Regardless of what caused it, only successful breedings produced the visions. "We are both Serevokin!" he protested. "Such a thing is impossible!"

A snort came from the shadows as the pacing halted. "I think you'll find that a great many things are possible because of me, draconic," came the reply. The voice had turned smug, and as Kaer looked into the shadows he thought he saw a ghost of a toothy smile. "And you have become the first part of it. You and your brother."

The Serevokin's teeth ground together as he tried to peer through the shadows to spot the speaker, but the overpowering scent in the air made his senses hazy. "Then that is what you have done, and what the scent is," he growled as he lay his head back against the wall again. "But that leaves the last question. You are the master of the Serevokin here with hashrah. You are the master of the Cult of Rolkatarni... but who are you?"

For a few moments, there was silence. Kaer squirmed against his restraints and fought back a groan as his shaft shifted inside his brother's backside, before he heard the sound of quiet steps towards him. A shape formed in the shadows of the room, and eventually that shape became a tall, well-built male Lissak fox. His black fur and cloak had kept him hidden in the darkness of the room, save for the slightly lighter shades of his vulpine markings. Kaer's gaze drifted up from his ebon robes to his face, where a pair of ice grey eyes stared stonily at the draconic. Upon his forehead was a brand, an upside down semi-circle that formed a bowed-out base for a triangle. Within that triangle was engraved a stylized star; together, they formed the insignia of a breeder male who had outlived his Serevokin mate.

The fox clasped both his paws together behind his back as he smiled thinly down at Kaer. The expression was devoid of warmth or friendliness, and yet there was a faint sense of familiarity in his features. "Who am I? I am shamed and reviled," he icily replied. "I am nothing; I am Lo'tyren'naka, of the Lissak people. I am the son of a Lissak and a Serevokin, the First of a dead draconic, and the father of yet another Lo'tyren'naka.

"And I am about to change your world forever."

And there we have the third chapter of Kaer and Tyren's story. Ahh, the plot thickens further, for those who have an interest in it! But what is it all leading to? How did that Lissak solve the Serevokin breeding problem? How will Kaer and Laran escape his grip? What will happen to Tyren? What will become of the Serevokin Alliance, and Astikorranna? Leave comments, gimme a score and a fav if you really liked it, and let me know your feelings on this!

Keep your eyes peeled, furballs! I'll see you in a week with all the answers to the above questions - and a few more to boot! - with the final installation in this series, Serevokin Nature!