The Princess' Heat

_©2023 Bruno Hirschkoff

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_The following is a work of fiction intended for adult audiences. If you are not an adult, this isn't for you. All characters, situations, settings, locations, names and concepts are the intellectual property of their respective creators (@IrvingWrites [Twitter] and @BrunoHirschkoff [Twitter]). Do not repost, distribute, alter or copy any element of this work without the express written permission of the author. _

_All characters, settings, religions, histories and geopolitical structures are fictional and resemblance to real-world characters, settings, religions, histories and geopolitical structures is purely coincidental. _

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Chapter 17

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"What took you so long?" Princess Malatheia demanded, opening the door to her chamber as soon as she heard the familiar clunk of hoofsteps approaching.

Her eyes widened immediately, and her gaze moved from Lu-Temba, to Auliabe. Her nostrils flared - it was obvious what had been happening.

"We brought you food and drink, Princess," Auliabe replied. "Lu-Temba and I ran into Sister Cadille in the bathhouse. She was... quite eager, to make our guest's acquaintance."

Malla snorted and opened the door more fully to admit them both to her chamber. She was still naked, but had almost fully recovered her faculties, the edge having been taken off her heat by Lu-Temba.

"That's actually quite endearing. She is a delicate creature, but when she wants something you certainly know about it, don't you?"

"Yes Highness, that... was quite apparent," Lu-Temba said, setting down a tray of food on the end of Malatheia's bed.

The Princess' nostrils flared again and she stepped in close to Lu-Temba, resting her hands on his hips and examining him with touch and scent. Her muzzle pressed against his collarbone and her hands wandered beneath his tunic, over his slender waist. Lu-Temba felt a rush of heat to his ears as the golden wolfess examined him. He gave a quiet gasp when her hand found his cock. She fondled him, then removed her hand and sniffed her palm. She could smell both Auliabe and Cadille on him. Their pheromones clung to him like a cloying perfume, but she could detect only Auliabe on her hand. She narrowed her eyes and made eye contact with the gazelle. "You serviced them both?" she asked.

"I... in a way, Highness. Auliabe asked to take my seed, yes," Lu-Temba replied. "Sister Cadille was more interested in servicing _me." _

"And you _still _rise to attention at the slightest touch," Malla grinned, flipping up the hem of his tunic to expose his half-erect member. "I must say, even for a Horned One, you have an impressive libido."

"Thankyou, Highness. It... isn't without assistance, though. After last night... I do not even recall how many times each of us climaxed..."

"I lost count after my twelfth. I definitely counted four from you."

Auliabe's eyebrows rose.

"It does not need to be said, I don't think, that I was completely unprepared for this experience," Lu-Temba said. "Sister Auliabe came to my rescue."

The Princess looked up at him quizzically. Auliabe just gave a demure little smile from behind him. Lu-Temba reached into his tunic, and produced the little flask of aphrodisiac, and he turned to Auliabe for guidance.

"Undiluted, three or four drops beneath your tongue is all it will take to raise you to another level of virility," Auliabe advised, with a grin. "Remember also to slake your thirst, Lu-Temba. We cannot have you drying out at such an inopportune moment."

Lu-Temba accepted the cup of water Auliabe offered him and drained it, then again when she refilled it. Then he unstoppered the flask of aphrodisiac and followed her instructions, tilting back his head and depositing a couple of drops beneath his tongue. Malatheia took a step back. Her eyes widened, and a slow, eager grin split her muzzle.

"Oh, Auliabe, you sly old witch! I _knew _those monks gave you something other than ridiculous pottery cocks for your mantelpiece!"

"Well, a Sister needs a secret, you know," she said. "The monks use it to overcome their ahh... post-orgasmic limpness, so I am told, although on a creature as virile as Lu-Temba it seems to have quite a powerful effect beyond just sustaining the rigidity of his pole."

Nothing had happened to Lu-Temba. He felt a little silly, standing there and holding his breath as if waiting for an explosion. His saliva mixed with the aphrodisiac and his body heat warmed it. Tendrils of spicy, dense aroma rose around his tongue, cooling and heating it simultaneously. It was a strange sensation. Both Malla and Auliabe were staring at his lower extremities. Was something meant to be happening?

"Breathe, Lu-Temba," Auliabe suggested, one eyebrow raised.

He did. The warm, fragrant potion flowed into his lungs, and into his blood. His eyes flew open. He sucked in a sharp breath through flared nostrils. _There _was the explosion. His pupils dilated and Lu-Temba could feel every nerve in his body thrum as if they were the strings of a lyre. He could _feel _his blood pounding through his veins, alive with virility and a growing urgency to rut. A shaky, gurgling bleat rose in his throat. His eyes came back into focus, and he gazed upon Princess Malatheia. She reeked of lust and heat, a heady scent that was only compounded by the scents of day-old sweat and their mixed fluids that matted her fur. Her pheromones rose around her like smoke, so dense he could almost see them - and Lu-Temba's body responded with visceral carnality.

He felt a weighty, tingling pressure rush into his manhood; the same sensation he had felt aboard the _Hurait Albahr _with Captain Frieda, the nymph of the sea. The same sensation he had felt with Caleia and Suetia. The same sensation he had felt only the previous day, in response to Auliabe's forwardness. It was a feeling of pent-up, barely-controllable arousal. The instinctive urge to rut that remained in the most primal part of his brain, powerfully thrust to the forefront of his consciousness. His manhood surged to near-painful, twitching, urgent erection, standing proud and jutting forth from beneath his tunic in all its glory. Malatheia's mouth was open, her eyes fixed upon him with undisguised lust.

Auliabe simply smirked, and made a satisfied little humming noise under her breath. He felt her hands on his shoulders, and dutifully lifted his arms to once more be divested of his tunic. It was becoming a common sensation.

Malatheia growled. The mere sight of Lu-Temba, achingly hard and reeking of pheromones, caused a powerful rush of arousal in her. She could feel her elevated heartbeat in her nethers, and felt fluid ooze into the velvety fur of her inner thighs. She stared at his naked body, slender and meek, yet so urgently ready to serve her. The purple head of his manhood seemed to glow with engorgement, and veins densely marbled the skin of his shaft, extruded by the force of his arousal. It was so swollen it shone, every inch of its skin pulled taut. His breathing was fast and ragged, and Malla knew she could ride him until she was satisfied, with the aphrodisiac keeping him aroused long beyond what he would be capable of maintaining on his own - even as impressive as his natural libido was.

"Get on the bed, Horned One. On your back," Malla said huskily.

A thick, opaque droplet of slimy fluid bloomed at Lu-Temba's urethra and strung ponderously downward. Malla growled and reached for it, capturing it in her palm and lifting it back up to its source. Her warm hand wrapped around his penis, smearing the slippery liquid around his glans. Lu-Temba trembled and thrust weakly into her grip. The Princess tugged him forward by his cock, then guided him around to stand with his back to her bed. Then she shoved him backward onto the mattress.

Even before he could lay back completely, she was on him. She pinned him down by his shoulders and swung her leg over him. Lu-Temba gazed up into her lust-filled eyes, and in that moment he knew what the Lupa felt when they were consumed by the flames of their heat. He was so aroused he thought his cock might well explode. Hard as stone. His balls churned with virility. Lu-Temba was an instrument of his physical arousal, in those moments - a warm granite dildo, with a gazelle attached.

"Ysion's balls, it's... even harder than... the first time!" Malla grunted.

"I am yours, Princess."

"Oh stop, you sycophant."

Rational thought faded into the background of his consciousness. All that mattered was _her. _Her soft fur over the dense heat of her body. Her thighs around his hips. Her hair in his face. Her soft breasts brushing his chest. Her warm breath against his ear. The breeze wafting over his legs created by her wagging tail. He ran his hands around her waist, over her broad hips and around to her plush buttocks. Malla ground forward, moving her breasts up to his face, and he pressed his muzzle between them to inhale deeply of her rich scent. The tip of his cock bumped and slid along her lower tummy and the dense fur of her pubic mound. Lu-Temba flexed, causing it to jump upward against her.

Malla slid her knees upward, rising over him, and slipped her hand between their bodies. She touched him slowly and with surprising delicacy, exploring him with a softness and curiosity that her heat-driven desperation the previous night had not allowed for. Her fingertips explored the shape and texture of his penis, tracing over the flared dome of his glans and around his coronal ridge and sulcus. The taut string of his frenulum earned a pinch and a tug, and he grunted between her breasts. His hands slid up along her waist, raking upward through her dense fur all the way to her shoulders. His lips searched for a nipple, and Malatheia obliged him, giving a heated moan when his blunt teeth grazed the erect, sensitive nub. He held it between his lips, circling it with his tongue, and the wolfess arched her spine sensually.

Her hips were gyrating, and he felt her hand explore the length of his shaft. Her thumb squeezed upward along the soft strip of his urethra, milking a thick drool of precum out of him. She palmed it around his glans once again, and was rewarded by the gazelle gasping loudly and bucking his hips upward against her. She masturbated him hedonistically for a moment, and let out a guttural whimper across his cheek, mouthing heatedly at him. He felt fluid drool onto his shaft and knew it was from her - she was so aroused by him she was overflowing. Lu-Temba's heart fluttered with excitement.

"This is... nnnh... the nicest rod I've had, Horned One," she murmured in his ear.

Lu-Temba melted. She curled her hand around him, lifting his rod upward to meet her. She fumbled hornily with him, grinding her clitoris against his slimy glans, and then moved him backward. The molten heat of Malatheia's pussy engulfed him and he uttered a primal sound as the Princess sank onto him. A guttural growl rose in her throat to match his, and he tremulously pushed his hips upward to meet hers coming down, burying his achingly stiff rod into her to its hilt.

"Ohh, and it's... nhh... the biggest..." Malla mumbled. "It is as though you were made to fit me... now _fuck me, _you stud."

Through the near-impenetrable fog of lust and arousal that consumed his consciousness, Lu-Temba inhaled her scent deeply. The combined scent of their mingled arousal, the subtle tang of sweat, her breath... everything came together in those moments. Lu-Temba felt as though he had ascended to Paradise. And when those words hit him, he felt his grasp on rational thought slipping, replaced by a carnal desperation that had remained just barely suppressed until that moment.

He slid his hands to her buttocks and grasped them firmly, kneading them in his hands, and drove his hips upward, grinding his burning rod firmly into her depths. His hips rose, hooves braced against her bed, and Malatheia's voice rose in a chorus of pleasure that filled the room. She gyrated and ground down against him, pinning his hips to her bed under her and forcing him to put all of his strength into thrusting upward into her. The sound of their union was loud and slick, and Lu-Temba could feel his balls bouncing off the Princess' buttocks. His eyes were unfocused, his thoughts barely coherent. All that mattered in that moment was _breeding. _Planting his seed in the molten, trembling core of the Princess of Coralesh.

Lu-Temba's climax came only moments later. He was powerless to slow its barrelling onslaught, and made no attempt. The fuse had been lit the moment she hilted him. He bleated shakily and tensed, every muscle in his body trembling and convulsing entirely beyond his control. Malatheia howled in a crescendo of lust when she felt him flutter and pulse inside her, pumping his seed with rhythmic throbs into her core. The gazelle barely paused. He suffered a brief loss of rhythm as the flurry of powerful convulsions wracked him, sending jets of his lust splattering into Malatheia's heat. But he simply continued. The aphrodisiac removed all traces of the post-orgasm sensitivity he usually felt, and seemed also to entirely remove his refractory period.

He was a relentless fuck-machine with a head full of wolf pheromones and mysterious aphrodisiacs. Malatheia had nearly climaxed with him, but his momentary loss of rhythm had interrupted her buildup. But now she was nearing her edge once again, and Lu-Temba wrapped his arms tightly around her waist. Her body pressed firmly down against his own, her breath hot against his ear. Her hips rose and fell with singular intent - the gazelle's flesh pounded the Princess' pleasure spot relentlessly, and she was not about to falter, not so close to an orgasm that promised to send her to another state of reality. The heat within her roared to the front of Malatheia's consciousness with the power of an avalanche, overtaking all other senses. Lu-Temba's cum leaked and splattered out of her messily and noisily, but she paid it no mind. She was _so close. _

Lu-Temba kneaded her buttocks roughly, thrusting upward into the Princess once again with the same ferocity and fervour, as if he had not just ejaculated moments before. His lips hunted once again for a Lupa nipple, and Malatheia nearly collapsed when he found his mark. He sucked firmly, flickering his tongue around the peak of her breast, and matched her rhythm as best he could. The buildup to her climax was deliciously slow, and left both of them soaked in sweat, cum and saliva. Suddenly, she sucked in a sharp breath and held it in her throat, tiny whimpers emerging in the last moments... and then she howled. Her spine arched, and she tipped back her head to the ceiling. Her entire body convulsed violently over Lu-Temba as her orgasm exploded within her, and around him. He could feel every flutter, every vice-like contraction of her glorious womanhood around his flesh, a drooling rod of fleshy granite that was no less hard than it had been at the start of their coupling. Her climax flooded him with Lupa nectar that was almost burning hot, and Lu-Temba abruptly climaxed for a second time, descending into a flurry of convulsive thrusts and grunts as another flood of seed erupted into the Princess' fluttering depths.

Even then, his penis remained rigidly hard, and he continued to move within her, sliding slowly and delicately into Malatheia's fluttering depths while she recovered from her climax. He was still just as aroused. And, judging from the Princess' sudden growl and the way she continued to grind onto him, so was she.

Malatheia paused, and then lifted herself from the gazelle with a lewd _schlorp. _Combined cum from them both strung thickly between their bodies, and Lu-Temba's eyes focused on her in concern.

"How may I satisfy you further, Highness?" Lu-Temba murmured. His voice was thick and husky.

Abruptly, Auliabe appeared beside him with another cup of water, while Malatheia stood and stretched her legs. Lu-Temba drank and took note of how flustered Sister Superior was. Her habit was crooked, her wimple discarded, and her fingers carried the unmistakable scent of her own arousal on them. Lu-Temba's arousal twitched, and he flexed it firmly at the thought of Auliabe masturbating over he and Malatheia, while the white wolfess muttered something about staying hydrated.

"You filthy voyeur, Auliabe. I do hope you are enjoying yourself. For the Horned One's _safety, _of course."

Malatheia stepped up behind Auliabe, sliding her arms around her waist and playfully biting the side of her neck. Auliabe whimpered and splashed water from the jug she carried. Malatheia growled softly and slid her hand beneath Auliabe's habit, at the hip-high split up its side. Her hand wandered across the curve of Auliabe's thigh and found the dense fur of her pubic area drenched with slickness.

"Arahan forgive me," Auliabe murmured.

"Oh don't get all pious on me _now, _you tart," Malla laughed. "Come, join us..."

Lu-Temba scurried out of the way as Malla led Auliabe to her bed. His flesh stood rigid in front of him, seemingly incapable of losing its fullness even for a moment, and even after two quick orgasms. Indeed, it felt as if he had not touched it in weeks, so sensitive and so urgently hard it remained. Malatheia laid on her bed on her back, and Auliabe knelt on the Princess' pillows above her head. She removed her habit and tossed it aside, and Lu-Temba gazed upon the two Lupa women. Both were many years his senior, both were alphas in their own right, and both were drenched in arousal over _him? _His heart fluttered in his chest.

"Come, Horned One. I need you again. My loins still burn for you," Malla said, beckoning the gazelle forward.

Lu-Temba tentatively knelt on the Princess' bed between her legs, gazing down at her exposed womanhood. Even though he had been within her for so long already, seeing her so openly displayed still felt incredibly intimate. His eyes moved up over her naked form, to where Auliabe was kneeling over Malatheia's muzzle. Sister Superior's eyes were half-lidded and she was trembling, while Malatheia lapped eagerly at her drooling womanhood.

"Can taste him on you," Malla mumbled.

Lu-Temba flushed hotly, and fell onto his hands over Malatheia. Her legs locked around his torso immediately, and he caressed her body. He kissed and nibbled at the dense fur down her tummy, nuzzling her warmth. Her hand wriggled down beneath him, and the gazelle felt the Princess masturbating. His cock twitched and he felt it sprinkle precum onto her mattress. Then she gripped one of his horns with her free hand, and hauled him upward over her. She was momentarily unable to speak, as buried in Auliabe's pussy as her face was, but her intention was clear.

Lu-Temba felt a spark of sexual confidence, and rose over her with deliberately languid sensuality. He felt like this was where he was meant to be, finally. He spoke to her with his body, sliding upward, fur on fur, until the burning heat of their arousal made contact once again. His rigid glans bumped and slid along her engorged petals, and he felt the rapid side to side motion of her fingers. She smoothly transitioned her touch from her clitoris to his penis, and angled him to enter her once more. He did not pause, pressed heatedly into her cloying depths once again. She clenched and fluttered around him, and locked her legs around his hips. He drove inward, slow and sensual, and hilted his rod in her yet again. His previous ejaculation leaked out around him, and he found himself face to face with Auliabe's lower body. She caressed his ears and cupped his chin against her tummy, while Malatheia lapped and slurped at her womanhood below. Lu-Temba rolled his hips, thrusting into Malatheia and rocking her against the bed beneath him. She groaned hotly into Auliabe's pussy, and her claws raked down Lu-Temba's back roughly. The gazelle's brain was a soup of Lupa pheromones, better than any teenage fantasy he could have ever imagined. He sped up. His hips slapped noisily against Malatheia, and she gripped her legs around his waist all the more tightly. He slid his hands down beneath her hips, lifting her against him.

Abruptly, Auliabe climaxed. She convulsed and whimpered, and ground heavily onto Malatheia's tongue. The Princess lapped up Sister Superior's offering even as Auliabe mumbled a prayer. Then the white wolfess fell backward, collapsing against the wall behind Malatheia's bed. The Princess' muzzle was drenched with Auliabe's nectar, and Lu-Temba began to tenderly lick her clean. His tongue and lips caressed Malatheia's face, and it quickly evolved into a deep and hedonistic kiss. Malla's arms looped around the gazelle's neck and their tongues wrestled between them, hot and heavy breaths mingling in an intimacy neither of them had yet shared. Lu-Temba thrust erratically into Malla, his rhythm interrupted by the coiled, burning tightness of yet another building climax. Malla seemed to sense the approaching peak, and slid her hand between herself and the gazelle to masturbate, seeking to time her next peak to his. Lu-Temba felt her hand moving against his lower abdomen, and ground heavily into her fluttering depths. He would have been powerless to stop himself even if he had wanted to, and within moments he ejaculated yet again. He convulsed and ground forward roughly into her through another climax, and she dug the claws of her free hand into his buttocks, vigorously rubbing herself while he flooded her with his seed yet again.

"Keep going," she ordered him, huskily.

He obliged, although after such a protracted session, and multiple orgasms, Lu-Temba felt even his aphrodisiac-fired lust beginning to wilt. His thrusts were weaker and slower than before and he lost some of his persistent hardness, and Malatheia noticed. Her golden eyes lanced into his soul, as if demanding that he be better. Without being prompted, Lu-Temba reached for the vial of aphrodisiac. He paused for a moment, kneeling up on the bed between Malatheia's thighs. He remained within her, and she continued to masturbate while he deposited another few drops of the powerful potion beneath his tongue, and inhaled deeply.

A rush of powerful desire thrummed through his body, and a surge of arousal into his manhood. It was gentler this time, more sensual. But the effect on his body was much the same, and Malla growled hotly to the sensation of him growing and hardening inside her.

"Arahan's _balls, _that is arousing... I have never felt anything like that before!" she exclaimed.

The gazelle bleated hoarsely, trembling with a mix of exhaustion and arousal, and drove his hips forward vigorously into the auburn wolfess. Her fingers moved faster and more urgently, and within moments Lu-Temba felt and heard the Princess tip herself into yet another orgasm.

"_That _is how arousing it was," Malla panted, gyrating her hips against him and gracing his neck with a teasing graze of her teeth.

"I am honoured, Highness," Lu-Temba said huskily.

Auliabe had been watching closely, and seemed to be searching for her moment to make an exit. She was still sitting astride Malla's head with her legs akimbo, but the moment she began to move, Malla growled to her to stay where she was. She made eye contact with Lu-Temba and grinned.

"I believe Sister Superior requires another climax, Horned One," Malla said.

"Oh I am... I am quite sa--" Auliabe began.

Her words were cut short as both Malla and Lu-Temba, without another word spoken between them, both began to attack Auliabe's sensitive flower with their tongues. It was the most hedonistic thing Lu-Temba could possibly have imagined. He was fuelled by an unknown aphrodisiac, hilted inside a cloistered Princess in a convent, while the pair of them fellated the convent's senior nun. His wildest imagination could not have come close.

Auliabe writhed and gripped the pillows beneath her, thighs trembling and her abdomen heaving with each laboured, aroused gasp of air she took in. Malla and Lu-Temba kissed messily, lapping and worshipping her fuzzy mound. Auliabe's second climax came only minutes into their shared attention to her, and the third a short time thereafter, with Malla's blunt-clawed fingers inside her and Lu-Temba's tongue flicking delicately over the peak of her clitoral hood. And after Malla's next climax, which came moments thereafter, the three of them collapsed into a pile of sweaty, trembling limbs and heaving chests. Lu-Temba remained erect, the aphrodisiac not having worn off yet. Lu-Temba found himself laying between Auliabe and Malatheia, with both women gently masturbating him.

Truly, he must have ascended to Paradise!

Lu-Temba found it curious to compare the style of stimulation these two women enjoyed; where Auliabe was all about very delicate, soft touches to her womanhood, Malla seemed far more vigorous. His concentration did not go unnoticed.

"Men usually have no nuance when they use their mouths on a woman," Auliabe observed, while she softly rubbed Lu-Temba's quivering abdomen. "You are different. You are observant. You noticed that Malla and I treat ourselves differently, and you responded. Usually I would have to ask a man to stop, since most assume women enjoy vigorous touch the way they do, themselves. But your tongue brought me comfortably to orgasm, along with Malla's."

Malla was stroking him with a slow and languid pace, but her intention was obvious. Her eyes were on him.

"Can you climax again?" she asked him. "I am... curious to see it. If you have any left, that is."

Gently, Lu-Temba placed his hand over Malatheia's, and instructed her touch with his own. A little faster. Tighter on the upward strokes. His cock ached, but he was certain he could manage another--his seventh--before needing to take a sabbatical. And Malla seemed to enjoy his silent tutelage. She growled softly against his cheek and the gazelle found himself tightly sandwiched between the two Lupa women, their soft breasts on either side of him, pillowy warmth into which he wanted nothing more than to bury his face for eternity. Auliabe's hand raised along his chest, until her fingertips found a nipple. Lu-Temba gasped and arched his spine, his legs tensing against the bed beneath him. Malla's pace increased slightly, and she began to twist her hand behind his glans with each upward stroke. Auliabe tweaked his nipple, and then leaned over him to capture the other between her lips.

That set him off.

He bleated and trembled, and felt the steady pulse of orgasm ripple through his lower body yet again. Malatheia's growl of lust came just as he felt seed ooze out of him over her fingers--he no longer had the strength to send it flying into the air. Malla squeezed and milked him tenderly, and then ducked downward to lick his offering from where it clung thickly to the head of his cock, and to her fingers. Her tongue was tender and warm, and Lu-Temba instinctively placed his hand on her head, fingers tangling in the Princess' hair. To his surprise, she nuzzled into his palm, and then slid back up alongside him.

"I used to dream of this when I first reached manhood," he murmured to Malatheia. "Of a woman taking me, and then making way for her sister. And then again, and again, an endless stream of women lining up to sink themselves onto my rod. Typical boyhood dreams, you know?"

"I do not," Malatheia replied, frankly. "But it sounds as though your faith has been rewarded. Just... different Sisters, wouldn't you say?"

Chapter 18 - Epilogue

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Two Weeks Later

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Princess Malatheia rose from the warm, steaming bath. Water cascaded out of her golden fur, plastering it to her skin and highlighting every subtle curve, every swell of muscle usually softened by her pelt. With the worst of her heat quenched by Lu-Temba's virility, she had calmed, and regained much of her usual regality and grace of posture.

Over two weeks had passed since the Horned One had arrived at Lady Eibed of Apos, but still, Lu-Temba spent his nights in her chamber. And it was there he remained in slumber as the Princess bathed in the icy chill of the mountain dawn. She had risen early.

Once she was clean and dry, her fur brushed out until it shone with silky softness, Malatheia padded back through the familiar halls of the convent that looked to be her home for the rest of her days, towards her chambers. She knew she could not keep him forever, and nor did she want to. But while the movement of planets and moons far away decreed that her body demand a lover with unambiguous stridency, he was a gift she could scarcely be without.

Yet, her mind was troubled. Cloistered though she was in the convent, she had her ways of learning of events in the outside world--her world--the realm over which she should by rights be ruling. Her cousin Velvia had usurped her throne by force, and ruled with sword and bow. Her informants told her that much, although Malatheia had no real way of knowing who was telling her the whole truth, versus who was telling her what they thought she wanted to hear.

Malla walked with careful ambiguity and at a languid pace. She did not wish to be seen to be in a hurry to get anywhere, not in that moment. She had been all but incapacitated by the raging inferno of her heat for the best part of a month, and could only hope that the message she had despatched had made it to its destination. A number of Sisters were immersed in their dawn prayer when Malla entered the chapel. She had been hoping to find the space deserted. Her ears flicked backward momentarily, but then she proceeded. The Princess ignored them, and they dutifully ignored her, although Malla was aware of the glances the young nuns and acolytes gave her as she walked between them. She took a candle from a small drawer behind the altar, lit it from one of the candles burning upon it, and stepped through a small door set at the head of the chapel, hidden behind a tapestry depicting the Resurrection of Arahan. This was a door through which only the senior Sisters could pass. It led Malatheia into a warren of low, narrow passageways within the walls of the convent's buildings--the means to move around the complex out of sight. Their very presence hinted at a level of intrigue long lost to the sands of time, but as an Ascendant of the House of Coralesh, Malatheia had been well educated in their extent and purpose by Auliabe.

The Princess' steps were silent on the ancient stones as she made her way towards the eastern end of the convent. A narrow stairway descended below the natural ground level outside, and Malla was within a tunnel. It was an ancient structure, carved into the bedrock and shored up with stone and timber. It was the tunnel the Brothers of the nearby monastery used to gain illicit access to the convent, and vice versa for the Sisters. But it served Malatheia another purpose; it was her line of communication to the wider world. While her usurper cousin thought her to be helplessly cloistered, rotting away in the highest tower of an isolated convent a hundred miles from Coralesh, Malla was, in reality, watching events unfold closely. Auliabe knew, of course, but maintained the illusion that she did not. There were eyes and ears everywhere, and very few parts even of an isolated mountain convent were truly secret, or private.

Halfway along the underground passage, an iron gate had been installed. It was locked tight for the duration of the Great Alignment, the ornate key kept by Auliabe somewhere well out of sight.

Even the physical barrier did not seem to be much of an impediment to those determined to flout the Holy Orders, though.

Malla stepped carefully over a cloth crusted with dried sexual fluids, several used condoms made from the rubbery sap of a tree that grew nowhere within a thousand miles of Coralesh, and the remnants of a forbidden feast; an amphora that had contained wine, and several dirty plates from the convent. All were reasonably fresh, as were the scuffed pawprints in the dust on either side of the iron gate. Rags had been stuffed into its hinges and around the latch to prevent it from rattling.

A second tunnel branched off from the main, on the convent's side of the gate. This was a much newer construction, dating to within a few years of Malatheia's arrival. The Princess inserted a key secreted in the hem of her tunic into the small lock, and closed the solid oak door behind her once she passed through. This tunnel was shorter, but narrower than the main tunnel. It switched back on itself twice to give the impression of a dead-end, before opening into a small chamber. It was there that Malatheia had been meeting with informants from within her cousin's court.

Malla paused in the tunnel, shielding her candle. She could see a faint flickering glow from beyond. Her heart raced. There was never any certainty about who would be there, she knew. If her cousin found out she was being fed information, it was likely she would send an assassin instead of an informer.

"I had thought you would not come, Highness," came a woman's voice from the chamber beyond the tunnel's mouth. Her accent was crude, her tone husky and low. Malatheia did not recognise it. "The message from Auliabe last week suggested that you were... unwell. I do hope that you feel better."

The Princess considered turning back. But what would be the point? Whoever was there knew she was present. And she, herself, was no warrior. She could not outrun a trained assassin. At best, she would lead them back to the tunnel, and expose the Sisters of the convent to danger.

Instead, Malatheia stepped into the tiny chamber. A lone Lupa woman in a tunic and leggings sat on an upturned crate, leaning forward with her elbows on her splayed knees. She was whittling a piece of wood with her dagger, and set aside her tools when the Princess emerged. She had but a single eye, the other covered by a leather patch.

"Where is my usual contact?" Malla asked warily.

"Sadly unable to attend. Fear not, I am an ally and naught has happened to Rhyleia of a drastic nature. She is merely... receiving the attentions of Duchess Velvia at a level which would make her absence noticed. I mean you no harm, Highness."

"Do not call her that," Malla shuddered. "A Duchess she is not, and shall never truly be."

"Agreed, Highness."

"So who are you, who knows of this place and of its purpose, if not an assassin with Rhyleia's blood on your hands?"

"My name is Caleia, Highness. I was a mercenary in Velvia's army."

Malatheia's stomach dropped and a chill ran up her spine. Velvia had waged a war of conquest over her own family all those years ago, to depose the rightful rulers of Coralesh and install herself and her bloodline in their place. She had done so with an army of mercenaries, and here Malatheia found herself face to face with one of them. Her hands clenched into fists, more to stop them from trembling than out of anger.

"I trust you have been enjoying the company of the Horned One? You reek of him," Caleia observed.

Malla snarled. "How d... how dare you!"

"Hung like a donkey, cums fast, like a donkey," Caleia smirked. "I was his first, you know, down in Basa-Talriq. With respect, Highness. The poor creature was so touch-starved, as though he had never seen a woman before in his life."

"Don't flatter yourself," Malla sneered. "You are naught more than a mercenary, the scum of the land."

Caleia chuckled. "Aye, that I may be, but do not make the mistake of dismissing my assistance, Highness. Velvia's employment was... convenient. I and my sister had no political motive, we simply went where there was a mixture of coin and trouble. I now find myself in need of a new direction. Velvia has publicly divested herself of any suggestion that she requires the ongoing services of scum such as me. There has been a run of... unpleasant actions. Warriors formerly in Velvia's employ have been rounded up and arrested by her new Royal Guard, all of whom were mercenaries themselves, not so long ago."

Malla relaxed slowly. Perhaps Caleia was genuinely not a threat to her.

"And Rhyleia?"

"Velvia's new harem advisor."

_She should have been MY harem advisor... _Malla thought.

"What happened to her predecessor?" She asked aloud.

"Not for me to know, Highness," Caleia shrugged. "Although my guess would be that she took too much of a fancy to one of Velvia's concubines recently. The Great Alignment struck most of us, to some extent."

Malatheia grunted. She knew that only too well. Caleia's story rang true. Malla considered herself a good judge of character, and for all of this one-eyed warrior's crudity and lack of deference, she was obviously not lying. Yet neither was she in the employ of any of Malla's allies, that she knew of.

"Very well," the Princess said. "I am satisfied that you have not been sent as an assassin. You would have already acted, were that the case."

"Very perceptive, Highness."

"So, what can you offer me?"

Caleia's single eye glinted in the candlelight. She slowly rose to her feet and brushed slivers of wood from the front of her trews. Then she sank to one knee at Malatheia's feet.

"Princess Malatheia Dominia, rightful heir to the Duchy of Coralesh and all its vassalage, I pledge myself to your service without restriction nor condition. My loyalty is yours in perpetuity, at your leisure and desire."

Malatheia's mouth opened and closed a few times. She knew the Oath of Loyalty, of course; it had been drilled into her since she could barely walk, but it had been a lot of years since she had heard it spoken aloud--especially directly to her! At her silence, Caleia glanced upward in concern.

"Is my oath not sufficient?"

"No... I mean yes, it is sufficient, but... why? Normally the oath is taken with witnesses, and one warrior swears for her entire contingent."

"I have neither of those things to hand, Highness, but I assure you my loyalty is without reservation. Between my position, surrounded by disgruntled mercenaries, and your birthright, the opportunity is growing ripe to unseat your cousin and take your rightful place. I wish to help you on that journey."

Malatheia's mind whirled. Freedom from the convent! Caleia was offering it to her, but it felt as though it were a poison chalice. If she took the bait, would a dozen warriors suddenly emerge from the shadows to punish her for conspiracy?

No, why would they? I am the rightful Duchess...

"Your indecision concerns me, Highness," Caleia rolled back into an easy squat on the balls of her paws, and then rose. "I shall leave you to ruminate on my offer. I shall return here in one week from tonight. If you wish, that is."

Caleia bowed to Malla, then collected her dagger and turned to leave the cavern.

"Caleia, wait," Malla called.

The wolfess paused.

"I do not need a week. I accept your offer, with gratitude."

Caleia grinned toothily in the darkness. "I am glad to hear it, Highness. I shall see you in one week."

"How shall I pay you, for your service? I do not have access to a treasury."

Caleia's laugh was a hoarse cackle. "I'll accept another ride of your Horned One, as a starting retainer!"

*

Lu-Temba jolted awake in the dim light of early morning. His pelt was matted and drenched with sweat, Lupa pheromones and the sticky remnants of the previous night's hedonism. An alarm bell rang somewhere in the deepest recesses of the gazelle's mind - a momentary flicker of directionless anxiety. Something about having a higher purpose for having come to Forlasea. Something about... an archaeological dig... treasure... his status in the Venium Academy of Antiquities.

On his left, Malatheia pressed her body against his side. She smelt fresh and clean, and he was suddenly aware of how badly he must need to bathe. Sleepily, she lifted a leg over his thigh and pressed her warm, soft crotch against his hip. His hand fell automatically to the glorious curve of her buttock, and she rolled her hips to grind against him. Her breath coalesced into a soft moan, uttered into his ear. Lu-Temba's manhood pulsed steadily upward yet again, resting rigidly over his slender torso, reeking of their shared lust.

Malatheia's eyes met his, and she gave him a smile that pierced his soul with its beauty. Her hand moved slowly downward from his chest, until her fingers curled around the flesh with which she had become so familiar in the preceding days.

"I have something I must ask of you," she said.

"Anything, Princess," Lu-Temba replied.

She squeezed his cock, and then drew back from him. He exhaled shakily, and then gasped and gave a hoarse bleat of surprise when another Lupa face loomed over him in the dim light. A very familiar face.

Caleia pinned his shoulders to the bed and leered down at him as she swung her leg over his torso, the wafts of air created by her wagging tail cooling the fur of this thighs. She reached beneath herself and grabbed his manhood, tapping the underside of his tip against the warm, soft fur of her groin.

"Hello again, Horned One. I have missed you and your friend!"

She angled him upward, lodging him at her entrance, then sank smoothly down onto him. He gave an eager groan of pleasure and gripped the sex-drenched sheets beneath him in both hands as Caleia began to ride him. In the rush of unexpected pleasure that consumed him, all thoughts of the Academy faded from Lu-Temba's mind.

#