Page 15 of To Love A Monster
“Do you not want food, my beloved?”
“I want you.” She whispered into my ear, my arm reaching around as I pulled her into my lap. I held her head tight with my hand as I kissed her ruthlessly. She held tight to my neck as I rose to my feet, my cock burying deep inside her as I chose not to lay on the bed. I smirked as her eyes went wide in surprise as I began bounding her up and down on my cock.
“Is this what you wanted? My cock inside you,” Aylin cried out as the lust overtook her, her teeth biting my neck so hard I roared out in pleasure, not caring that others could hear. “I love how your cunt milks my cock.”
It did not bother me. I wanted my clan to hear me making love to my mate, and I wanted them to know that she was mine and I hers for the rest of our days. “Kiss me.” She whispered, her body trembling as I slowly kissed her lips and twitched my cock inside her. My lust was trying to overtake me, but I needed to be gentle with her. I needed to savor each moment with Aylin, for I knew what it was like to almost lose her.
Our lips remained connected as I carried her to the bed, Aylin sighing beautifully as her back met the furs. I closed my eyes as I tried to sustain my rough nature. With my past lovers, I was brutish and cared only about my pleasure. Aylin deserved to be loved and caressed. She deserved to be treated like a true queen.
~~~
AYLIN
Opening my eyes to see small yellow flowers by my side filled me with joy and sorrow, for it meant that Daegon was called elsewhere before I could wake. It had been almost a month since we returned to the village, and my womb showed no signs of a child. Daegon was more than understanding, but I wanted to give him a child that I knew we desperately wanted. Each night we would make love, but my womb remained empty. Orc grew differently than humans in the womb, the healer Ornya had assured me that my womb would carry a child, yet it remained empty.
I dressed in the leather tunic and white wool skirt that Daerla had gifted me and nibbled on some bread by the fire, my mind racing as I felt my breast for any soreness, a clear sign of a child. I felt nothing. I knew I needed to see the healer, but I was worried she was growing frustrated with all my questions.
At times I would yearn for my mother and her advice, and with each passing day, I grew worried about war, but Daegon assured me that he and his warriors could overtake the elven army. My thoughts also turned to Halla. The brave dwarf who lived alone at the mercy of the elves, a woman whom I owed my very existence. I had been sad when she declined Daegon’s offer to live in the village, but I knew why she refused. Halla grew magical berries for the King, and her absence would not go unnoticed.
I finished my bread and drank a small cup of water; the air was slightly warm as I stepped out of the hut, and a tall female orc named Tiraza nodded her head at me as she slammed her sword into her large iron shield. It was a custom that initially scared me, but Daegon said it was a sign of great respect. I walked along a small stone-covered path between the homes till I came to Daerla’s and Rogons, an excitement growing as she was going to show me how to tan goat and deer hide and make breeches for Daegon.
“Daerla?” I called from outside as I waited for her to invite me in. The one time I walked in unannounced, I walked in on a very intimate moment between her and Rogon. My embarrassment was still on my face days later. Daegon found it humorous when I told him that he fell off the bed laughing.
“It is safe.” She teased as I pushed aside the thick leather and smiled as she greeted me with a big hug. “Hello, darling girl---are you ill? You are late.”
“Forgive me—Daegon, and I could not find sleep last night.” I blushed. I remembered how he had taken me from behind, his hand gripping my hair as I caught a glimpse of his primal side.
“My son and his endless stamina. Do not fret, darling child. You may help me prepare lunch for our mates.” I watched as she pulled some fresh vegetables from a basket; the memories of my mother cooking flashed before my eyes. I missed her dearly. I missed her singing, stories of far-off lands, and how she made her lamb stew.
I tried to wipe the tear from my cheek, but I could not hide it from Daerla. “What has you, upset child?” She stopped what she was doing to give me her full attention, a part of me was grateful that I had her to turn to when I felt sad or needed someone to talk to.
“I miss my mother. She is being held in that wretched kingdom, bound by a corrupted love to a mad King who tried to kill Daegon.” I sat down on the furs by the fire and cried into my hands, Daerla hugging me close as I cried into her bosom.
“Is there a chance that she could escape?”
“She refuses. She loves my father despite how cruel he was to me, and she said she is bound to him in some way, a way deeper than I am bound to Daegon. I do not understand how a bond could grow so poisoned that she would risk all she loved to be with him. My father is a monster.”
“I have heard stories as a young girl that—some matings are so powerful that being from them is like death itself is holding you in an icy embrace. If one dies, the other dies soon after. It is a compelling and dangerous love, Aylin. Taking her from him if your mother is bound to him will ensure their demise.” My heart broke as I imagined my mother alone in the palace, grieving as I grieved for her. I had a bond with Daegon, but I knew it was nothing like the bond she shared with my father.
“Has anyone in this village had a mating such as that?”
“No. It is a mating that happens when two souls are ripped from each other. You told me that your mother and father were once forbidden from each other. When that happens, their bond turns dark and poisonous. If you and Daegon had been apart for too long, your bond would be as such.” Her words filled me with an intense dread, for I knew that meant I would never see my mother again, and even if I begged, she would not run from my father.
Daerla kissed the top of my head and eased my worry, my smile returning as she showed me how to delicately prepare the lamb used in the stew. I loved it when she told me stories of Daegon as a child, how he would sneak away and practice hunting to impress his father. Or the time he accidentally set fire to their hut when trying to cook for his mother. I wanted to know everything about Daegon, his life, was filled with an excitement that mine had always lacked.
“My mother and mate cooking? For I truly am spoiled.” Daegon said as he walked into the warmth of the home, quietly startling us both. I giggled as Daegon wrapped his arms around my waist and lifted me till our lips met. “Forgive me for leaving so soon—I had a council with the elders and had to speak to the leader of my warriors.” He said as he set me back down, his mother motioning for him to sit as I scooped some hot stew in a bowl carved from bone.
“Where is your father?”
“Bickering with Tiraza and Lygar about their swords.” Her words made his mother scoff and roll her eyes as she insisted, I sit and eat with my mate. I sat in Daegons lap and cuddled against his chest as he offered me a spoonful of stew. I was so lost in him that when I felt something warm run down my legs, I sprang up from his lap and rushed outside for privacy.
I lifted my skirt and gasped as I saw blood running down my legs, my heart breaking as I knew then in my heart that Daegon and I had not conceived a child. My heart shattered as I had prayed so hard to conceive a child, but alas, my body was not ready.
“My love?” Daegon whispered as I felt his hand on my shoulder, tears streaming down my face as I fell into his arms and sobbed into his chest. “Do not be sad, my love. We will have a child when you are ready.” His words brought me little comfort since his mother often told me that most children were conceived quickly, but I feared that my father had cursed my womb with those tonics he was forcing me to drink. Unfortunately, Daegon knew nothing of the potions, but in my sadness, I had confessed my fear to Daerla, who had tried to ease my worries.
“You are not angry?”
“Why would I be angry, my love? We will have a child; I know in my heart that by the next moon—your womb will be carrying our child.” The smile on his face broke my heart, for I knew that my father had cursed my womb, and I knew not how to break it.
