Chapter 94- Afterglow
Sahiyra POV
The chamber was a warm cocoon of afterglow, the furs beneath us damp with our passion, the air thick with the musky scent of our union. My body still trembled from the intensity of Maku and Poku’s claiming, every muscle singing with satisfaction.
I lay between them, their heavy breaths slowing, their gorilla hands resting gently on my skin. But the day called, and I couldn’t linger in bliss forever. “We need to clean up,” I murmured, my voice husky, pushing myself up with a groan. The candlelight flickered, casting soft shadows as I slid from the bed, my legs shaky but determined.
Maku rose first, his gentle demeanor returning as he fetched a basin of warm water from the hearth, the steam curling upward. “Let me,” he rumbled, dipping a cloth and wiping me down with tender strokes, cleaning the evidence of our lovemaking from my thighs and chest. His touch was careful, his dark eyes warm with affection. Poku joined, grunting with a playful smirk, snatching the cloth to scrub my back, his hands rougher but thorough. “Gotta look good for the training grounds, queen,” he teased, his voice still thick with lust.
I laughed, the sound lightening the room, and dressed in a fitted leather tunic and pants, the fabric hugging my curves, my silver hair tied back with a leather thong. Maku pulled on his tunic, the fabric stretching over his broad shoulders, while Poku donned his gear, his muscles flexing with every move.
We stepped into the corridor, the cool stone underfoot a stark contrast to the heat we’d shared, and headed toward the training grounds. The distant clang of steel guided us.
The training area buzzed with energy as we approached, the open space ringed with beast men sparring under the midday sun.
My breath caught as I spotted Lyrien and Sylara locked in combat, their movements a blur of grace and power. Lyrien, with her twin daggers flashing, had the upper hand, pinning Sylara with a swift twist. Her victory was met with cheers from the onlookers. I stepped into the ring, and the crowd erupted, a wave of beast men, wolves, lions, bears, gorillas, rushing to greet me. Their faces lit up, relief and joy washing over them.
“You’re okay!” a bear shifter roared, clapping my shoulder.
“Thought we lost you, my queen!” a wolf called, his tail wagging furiously.
I smiled, my heart swelling, and raised my hands. “I’m here, thanks to you all.” A surge of gratitude fueled me, and I closed my eyes, drawing deep from my core. A powerful soothing wave rippled out, golden light spreading across the training grounds, reaching every beast in the area. The air softened, tensions easing, growls turning to sighs. They dropped to one knee, hands to their chests, murmuring thanks.
“Thank you, Chaos Queen!”
“Blessings on you!”
I nodded, accepting their reverence, then turned to Lyrien. “Ready for me?” She grinned, her daggers at the ready, and we clashed. Her speed was fierce, but my magic-enhanced strength prevailed, pinning her with a twist of my arm. Cheers rose as I released her. Next came Jaxen, his wolf agility testing me, but I countered with a swift leg sweep, winning again. Kory followed, his playful jabs no match for my focus, and I pinned him too.
Torren stepped up, his bear form towering over me, and the fight was brutal. He caught me off guard, his massive arms wrapping me, pinning me to the ground. The crowd gasped, impressed by his strength. Syrik tried next, his serpent agility slithering around me, and with a clever twist, he pinned me too, earning awed murmurs. I laughed, brushing off the dirt, then faced Brannock. His lion grace challenged me, but I outmaneuvered him, flipping him onto his back, the crowd roaring approval.
The dinner bell rang, a deep clang cutting through the cheers. We rushed to the courtyard, where my beast soldiers had prepared a feast, meatloaf with rich gravy, creamy mashed potatoes, and crisp green beans. The delicious aroma filled the air. I raised my hands, my magic flaring, expanding the food to make enough to feed the throng. My mates and soldiers grabbed steaming plates, serving with eager hands, and we all dug in, laughter and satisfied groans rising as we smashed the meal.
Kylen checked BeastNet, his datapad glowing. “Love and support pouring in,” he said, “but it’s quiet otherwise. No threats yet.” I nodded, savoring a bite, but a strange tug pulled at my chest. It was persistent and unfamiliar. It led me to Ryvale Knoll, his presence lingering in my mind like a shadow I couldn’t shake.
After we ate, I stood, wiping my hands. “I need to see Ryvale,” I declared, my voice firm despite the confusion. The tug grew stronger, a thread of fate I couldn’t ignore. My mates exchanged glances, concern etched on their faces, but they followed as I headed toward the prison. I was determined to unravel why this beast man still called to me.
The castle corridors seemes to stretch forever as we descended toward the dungeon prison. My boots echoed on the stone steps. My mates flanked me, their presence a steady wall, Greyson’s tiger growled low, Torren’s bear strength was silent, Jaxen and Kory’s wolfish tension palpable, Kylen’s strategic mind whirring, Brannock’s lion pride bristling, Syrik’s scales glinting, Maku and Poku’s gorilla forms towering protectively.
The tug in my chest grew stronger with each step, pulling me toward Ryvale Knoll, a mystery I couldn’t ignore. Torches cast flickering shadows, and the air was heavy with damp and iron.
We reached the cell, and the guard unlocked the heavy door. Ryvale knelt inside, his human form attractive and muscular, his dark hair falling over his obsidian eyes. When he saw me, his face lit up in a mix of hope and reverence. He dropped lower, bowing deeply, his voice a rough whisper. “My queen, you’ve come.”
My heart softened at his awe, the weight of his loneliness hitting me. I stepped closer, raising my hands, and released a gentle wave of soothing magic. Golden light enveloped him, easing the tension in his shoulders, his breath steadying. He looked up, his eyes wide with wonder, and in that moment, I knew, I would forgive him.
More than that, the thread of fate snapped taut, whispering he was meant to be my mate. His transformation, his desperate plea, his gentle soul beneath the madness, it called to me.
But my mates shifted uneasily behind me. Greyson’s growl rumbled, Jaxen’s snarl cut the air, Brannock’s fists clenched. They wouldn’t be happy. I felt their resistance through our bond, a storm of jealousy and protectiveness. Yet, my decision was clear. Ryvale rose slowly, still gazing at me, and I nodded, sealing my intent, bracing for the battle with my other loves to come.