The Dragon Rebellion (M-Preg)

Chapter Six: Fear is the Enemy

Reid froze.

If the Naerian stayed, he would surely beg him again. He didn't want to go through it. Didn't want to be bred, despite what his body craved. It went against everything. But he did not have a choice.

"Emkii–I-I am okay. I d-don't," Reid's voice trembled.

"If you are requesting that I leave you, I will not," Kincaid said softly, but with finality. As if to further his declaration, he adjusted himself more comfortably in his chair.

Fear seized Reid's chest. His thundering heart pumping blood through his heated veins. He hated how he felt. But with the Dragon being there while he...

"Please," Reid begged, not bothering with pride. He would beg and whimper if it got the Dragon to go away. "Please Emkii, I don't want–"

"What you want does not matter," Kincaid said, still even toned and lacking inflection. A small flood of anger raced in Reid's veins, but it cooled almost as quickly as it came. Anger wouldn't help him now. Anger would make things worse.

Reid didn't say anything else. They sat there in the tense silence, Reid trying his best to ignore the Naerian while Kincaid watched him back, disinterested. Pointedly looking away from each other, each male quietly waited for the other to make a sound or move.

Neither did.

Not until the next wave overcame Reid with a vengeance unlike any he had ever experienced. The reaction was unbearable. He hated his skin, hated the smell that wafted into his nostrils feeding him that heady scent, keeping him wet and needy. Hated the thick viscous fluid filling within him, fighting to escape the seams of his throbbing sheath. A sheath that tugged and pulled, desperate to blossom and accept Naerian seed. The constant thrumming in his ears, pulsing in his veins, and clenching in his gut only fueled his hatred for The Change more.

This is what they have done to us. This was created by them for them without any consideration for the creatures they've so thoroughly violated. And he and his kind had to suffer. Suffer for those monsters.

Vexation and concupiscence tore Reid's soul in two, waging a war in his body that shoved his reason to the edge of sanity.

Fight it, Reid.

He knew. He knew with every fiber of his being, every laugh of his mother, every cry of his father, every human on this planet, he had to fight it.

Why was he fighting a losing battle?

Pointless, his mind cooed. It's pointless.

Reid's body wanted the Dragon. Needed it.

An agonized scream tore from Reid's lips, startling the quiet Naerian whose head snapped up at the noise. The scream was low pitched and raw, full of hatred and pain. Reid writhed on the bed, despising everything about his existence in this moment. For a short while, he no longer cared about the Dragon, the war, anything. He just wanted the agony to end.

*

The Naerian General watched the human from a safe distance in his chair. His fingers folded over the edge of the armrests, clenching and unclenching in sync with Reid's screams. The last one was particularly sharp, causing the male to wince. He grew agitated with the constant noise and could feel a headache coming along.

Kincaid couldn't see how his presence made things any better. From his observations, it appeared as if his fated only grew worse. He screamed, and writhed, and vomited. But that was normal. It was nothing as Pelryn described. Kincaid did not see the traces of mania clouding those dark brown eyes.

The Naerian stood with a sigh. Pelryn was too soft. Kincaid was a fool to listen to him when he was so easily swayed by these creatures. It would do none any good, waiting until the redrya's Rut was over. He had more pressing things to attend.

As he was about to take his leave, a guttural noise rose from behind him. He glanced at the bed and met furious brown eyes fueled with enough hatred to make him tense.

"Monster!" The redrya hissed at him. The simpering frightened creature forgotten, replaced by this resplendently virulent male. One who so foolishly challenged he who holds his leash. But it was this fire that piqued Kincaid's interest in the beginning, that kept him from saying to relok with it all, leaving the redrya to suffer in his own filth.

But the pure audacity left little kindness in him. Such glaring disrespect was better met with swift punishment, less it became a nasty habit. No, Kincaid would have none of that.

Smooth and graceful, Kincaid moved faster than the redrya's eyes could follow. He wrapped one hand around the warm neck, shoving the redrya down until his head sunk forcibly into the pillows. The body beneath Kincaid thrashed and writhed like a beast in a trap but he was so terribly outmatched in both strength and size, it did little to alleviate his discomfort.

"You will listen to me, human, and you will listen well. I will not tolerate any insolence. You will obey or you will suffer," Kincaid said evenly, increasing the pressure around the redrya's throat, watching his face turn a pretty purple. "I am your master, remember that."

Kincaid released the human who gasped for breath, rubbing his throat. The Naerian gave one last warning look before sweeping out of the room and back to his office where a fresh new pile of reports waited for him.

On the way, he saw Pelryn's fated. A small thing with tightly coiled hair and skin the color of Hoa leaves. His shoulders were hunched and there was a pronounced limp in his step. When he noticed Kincaid's stare, his head dipped further as if he could shrink into himself.

Kincaid had no interest in other redrya and dismissed his presence without a second glance. It truly amazed him that Pelryn felt so strongly for a species that was so weak. And the mere fact that a race as strong as the Naerians, depended on them for survival was ironic, truly.

More of a reason for him not to bother with his own pair. And yet, that face...with rage and hatred a beautiful mix, Kincaid wondered if there was fire in them yet.