Draven Fucks Odelia as Kaelia Arrives

KAELIA'S POV

The uprising was a whirlwind of steel and blood. The moment I dropped my hand, the quarry erupted. We grabbed the heavy iron mining picks, turning them on the distracted guards before they could even draw their blades. Chaos swallowed the morning mist. Everywhere I looked, men and women were fighting tooth and nail, unleashing days of starved rage upon their captors.

By the time the dust finally settled, the campsite was a graveyard for the bandits. Our forces took a massive hit in the crossfire. Out of my original thirty soldiers, only seven stood breathing among the corpses. Still, as I wiped a streak of blood from my cheek, I counted the survivors. We had managed to save one hundred and fifty men and three hundred women from the cages.

"Captain!"

I spun around. Ronan and Jorik marched through the wreckage, battered but alive. Pure relief washed over me. I ran forward, pulling them both into a tight, desperate embrace.

Ronan cleared his throat, pulling back, and I chuckled, letting my arms drop.

"Where is Mirel?" I asked, my heart suddenly skipping a beat. I twirled around, scanning the huddled masses of freed women. "Mirel!"

"Is that your wife?" Jorik asked, raising a suspicious eyebrow.

Panic seized my throat. "Yes," I stuttered. I needed to maintain my disguise as a male captain until we safely reached Drakenford's gates. If they knew I was a woman now, it would only complicate our journey.

"Princess!" a shrill voice shrieked across the blood-soaked yard.

I whipped my head around. Mirel pushed through the crowd, running toward me with wild, unfiltered excitement.

"Princess?" Jorik repeated, his gaze narrowing as he looked from Mirel to me. "Why did she call you that?"

My mind raced. "She is... mentally unstable," I lied, forcing a stiff, awkward smile. "She says nonsense all the time." I stepped toward her, raising my voice. "Honey, are you okay?" I winked at Mirel, praying to the gods she would catch on and play along.

"Honey? Prin—Captain? What is wrong with your eyes? Why are you winking at me?" Mirel asked, completely oblivious.

"Mirel, honey, remember we are married. You are my wife," I said through gritted teeth, stepping closer.

"Married? Wife? What are you talking about? How can we be married? Are you crazy?" she blurted out.

I nearly had a heart attack. I grabbed her by the shoulders, pulling her into a sudden, crushing hug. "Mirel," I hissed directly into her ear. "He thinks I am a boy and that you are my wife. Play along."

"Oh! I should play along!" Mirel yelled for the whole camp to hear.

I slapped my hand over her mouth, groaning inwardly. I glanced up at Jorik. He was laughing, though he quickly masked it with a cough and forced a straight face when he caught my eye. Mirel, you fool, I thought.

It was time to move. Jorik and a group of survivors agreed to ride with us to Drakenford. Forty of us in total—thirty men and ten women. We raided the bandit stables, claiming their rugged horses. I found Fury tied near the back; she had likely snapped at anyone who tried to saddle her, keeping herself safe for me.

Before Drakenford's imposing gates came into view, I halted the group. I pulled aside Rowena, a chubby woman we had rescued who possessed a massive mole on her nose and a wide, gap-toothed smile. I handed her the royal robes. She was going to pose as the princess.

DRAVEN'S POV

The air in my private chambers was thick with the scent of musk, sweat, and raw heat. Odelia lay beneath me, her pale legs hooked over my shoulders. She was my childhood friend, but right now, she was nothing more than a warm sheath for my release.

I was buried deep inside her pussy, sliding my cock in and out with a savage, rhythmic intensity. The wet slapping of flesh against flesh echoed off the stone walls, mirroring my own restless, violent nature. Odelia’s moans filled the room, her fingernails digging into the muscles of my back as I pounded her.

The heavy oak door swung open without warning. Garrick stepped into the chamber.

His voice died in his throat. He froze, his eyes immediately dropping to the floorboards, averting his gaze from the explicit display of my naked body thrusting into Odelia.

I didn't stop. I didn't care about his discomfort. I gripped Odelia’s hips tighter, pulling her upward to meet my cock as I drove deeper into her wet hole.

"Just speak," I commanded, my voice a harsh grunt.

"Princess Kaelia... she is close to Drakenford," Garrick mumbled to the floor.

I thrust into Odelia one final time, a low growl escaping my chest as I shot my load deep inside her. The release did little to dampen my cynical mood. I pulled out, grabbed a cloth, and wiped my cock clean. I shrugged into a silk robe, tying it loosely at my waist, and swatted away Odelia’s lingering fingers as she reached for my thigh.

"She escaped the bandits?" I asked, pacing toward the window. "I must say, I am impressed."

"Yes, my King. She handled the bandits in a single day. She must be brave," Garrick said, finally looking up with a faint smile. "You should come and welcome her at the gates. She will be here any minute."

"Why should I?" I sneered. "I will be in the throne room. Send her there, along with whoever she brought."

"But my King, it may seem rude if you don't go to welcome her."

"I don't care," I cut him off. "I will welcome her on my throne."

Garrick bowed and scurried out. Odelia sat up, pulling the messy bedsheets over her bare breasts. "He seems to already like the princess," she muttered.

I scoffed. I walked into the washroom, rinsed the sweat from my skin, and dressed in my royal attire.

I sat in the throne room, one leg crossed lazily over the other. My council members flanked the dais on both sides. Odelia stood among them, a knowing smirk playing on her lips.

"Your Majesty, the Princess of Eldoria!" the herald announced.

I leaned forward, a sliver of curiosity piercing my boredom. The heavy doors groaned open. A woman draped in royal robes walked in, trailed by a large entourage.

The throne room was massive, and her slow, clumsy stride took agonizing minutes. When she finally stood before the steps of my throne, a surge of pure, unadulterated disgust hit the back of my throat.

What the fuck was this?

The reports swore the Princess of Eldoria was a breathtaking beauty, a slender vision of grace. The woman standing in front of me was chubby. She possessed a massive, dark mole right on the tip of her nose. When she offered a nervous smile, revealing a cavernous gap between her front teeth, my stomach physically churned. She looked like a circus clown. I felt betrayed by the rumors.

I glanced at my council. They looked just as confused and horrified.

"Greetings, your highest," the woman said.

I flinched. Her voice was deep, grating, and masculine. Angelic voice? Whoever wrote those intelligence reports was going to hang. Can someone put her out of my misery? There was no way in hell I was marrying this creature.

Seeking a distraction from the eyesore, my gaze wandered to the entourage behind her. That was when I saw him.

A boy. He was dressed in simple, dirt-stained masculine clothes, but his face stole the breath right out of my lungs. He had striking, ocean-blue eyes that locked onto mine without an ounce of fear. His features were flawless, so impossibly beautiful they looked carved from pristine marble by the gods themselves. His face was small, delicate enough to fit perfectly in the palm of my hand.

And he was smirking at me.

He was clearly enjoying the visible disappointment written all over my face. The realization clicked in my brain. Those features, those eyes—this was no boy. She was a girl in disguise. Was she mocking my misery? Why couldn't she be the princess?

"Greetings, your Majesty," a voice suddenly rang out.

It was the most angelic, silken sound I had ever heard. I snapped my attention back. The beautiful girl-clad boy stepped forward, bypassing the chubby decoy, and challenged my gaze with a fierce, unexpected intensity.

"I am Princess Kaelia of Eldoria," she announced.

The entire throne room fell into a dead, stunned silence.