The Dread of Damned

After the ceremony, the elders presented me with a ring—a symbol of my place as Crown Prince. It was nearly identical to the one my father wore, a mark of the power and responsibility now resting on my shoulders.

Under the collective cheers and chants of the gathered crowd, the platform slowly descended. The ground closed above us, sealing away the ceremonial chamber, and soon, we stood once again in the familiar hall.

I strode ahead, my steps steady, my mind already moving past the formalities. As I reached the grand silver throne placed at the center of the hall, I lowered myself onto it and spoke.

"Now, tell me. What is this about the Moon Successor?"

The elders exchanged glances before answering.

"As we said, every successor is tested—to see if they are the second to be blessed by the moon."

I narrowed my eyes. "Are you telling me that out of four hundred and fifty-eight rulers of House Aesthersin, only one was a Moon Successor?"

"One in hundreds of millions of years," an elder confirmed solemnly.

I leaned forward slightly, my voice calm yet probing. "And you claim that the only one to ever wield this power was the first Patriarch—the founder of House Aesthersin himself?"

"Yes. He alone could command and control the moonlight itself. We have tested every ruler since, yet none could absorb the power. Most experienced nothing—the energy simply dispersed. Others..." The elder hesitated before continuing, "Others went mad, consumed by its nature, never destined to rule."

I exhaled slowly, processing their words. "So, being the Moon Successor means I can control moonlight?"

"Yes," one of the elders confirmed. "Once you become a Supreme One and embark on your path to Sovereignty, the moonlight itself will be at your command."

"Good to know." I rose to my feet, the conversation settled in my mind. I turned toward the grand doors, ready to leave.

Before I could step away, one of the elders spoke again.

"We, the Council of the Lunar Cycle, have safeguarded the relic of the Founder, awaiting the destined one."

I paused, glancing back.

"We formally invite you—four days from now—to receive the legacy of the moon."

I considered their words before answering simply, "Very well." Then, without another glance, I walked out. My father, mother, and Elara followed as we made our way to the waiting carriages.

As we approached, Mother moved ahead, but before she could step into her carriage, I reached out, gripping her soft waist. She stiffened slightly at my touch, then relaxed, allowing me to lead her toward mine. She followed without resistance.

As soon as we stepped inside and the doors shut behind us, I moved.

In a swift motion, I pushed her down onto the carpeted floor, my hand tightening around her throat as I descended upon her, claiming her lips with a bruising kiss. Her breath hitched, her body arching beneath me as my hunger surged.

"You've been keeping yourself busy lately, haven't you?" I murmured against her lips.

A smirk played on her face, but before she could answer, I tore her dress from her body. My hands roamed over her bare skin, fingers digging into the supple flesh of her breasts. The inverted peaks hardened beneath my touch, a soft moan escaping her lips.

"I deserve to be punished," she whispered, her voice breathless.

A growl rumbled in my throat as I bit down on her neck, the sweet taste of her blood spilling onto my tongue. I drank greedily, my fingers sliding between her legs, finding her already drenched. Without hesitation, I plunged two fingers inside her, curling them as she trembled beneath me.

"Yes, you do," I murmured darkly.

The hunger in me deepened—ravenous, insatiable. It wasn't just for blood.

I freed myself, my aching length pressing against her entrance. Veins pulsed along my shaft, glowing faintly with silver light, a testament to the power thrumming through my very being.

In one swift thrust, I buried myself deep inside her.

A cry tore from her lips, her body shuddering as she clenched around me, her juices spilling onto my length. Her hands flew to my head, gripping my hair as my fangs found her nipple. I bit down, drinking as she writhed beneath me.

My hips moved instinctively, each thrust deep and unrelenting. The carriage filled with the sounds of flesh meeting flesh—moans, gasps, and the rhythmic slaps of our bodies colliding.

"I wish to be punished," she moaned.

"Punished to carry your child."

Something inside me snapped at her words. My grip tightened, my pace growing frenzied.

With a growl, I flipped her onto her stomach. Her cheek pressed against the floor, her ass raised high for me. I slammed into her from behind, my hands gripping her hips as I drove into her relentlessly. Each thrust sent ripples through her soft flesh, her moans growing louder, more desperate.

A deep shudder ran through me as the pleasure coiled tight in my core. Heat surged, and then—release. I came deep inside her, filling her with thick ropes of my seed. But much like my hunger for blood, this need was far from satisfied.

I didn't stop.

I spanked her ass, reveling in the way she moaned at the sharp sting. Fisting her hair, I pulled her head back, forcing her to arch beneath me.

"Take it all," I growled. "Every drop."

"Yes—yes!" she cried out.

"Give birth to another bitch like you," I commanded, my voice raw with dominance. "Train her the way you were trained."

"Yes!" she moaned, her body trembling as another climax ripped through her. "I will give birth to the greatest bitch—a bitch only for you."

Her words sent a primal shudder through me, and I drove into her harder, deeper, until she came again, her body convulsing around me.

Outside, a knock echoed against the carriage door.

"Your Royal Highness, we have arrived," a knight's voice called.

I growled lowly. "Leave."

The carriage was soundproof, its walls thick enough to contain every sinful sound. No one would dare disturb us.

The vehicle remained unmoving at the entrance of the mansion. Everyone assumed their Crown Prince needed time to stabilize his newfound powers after the coronation. None suspected the true nature of my hunger.

Hours passed before the carriage door finally opened.

I stepped out first, adjusting my clothes with practiced ease. Then, I extended a hand. She took it.

Mother emerged next, draped in my cape, the fabric shielding her bare body from prying eyes. She followed behind me with grace, her posture regal despite the evidence of our activities lingering on her skin.

As we ascended the grand staircase, she faltered, her steps growing unsteady. A soft, broken moan slipped from her lips.

I reached back and landed a sharp slap on her ass. She gasped.

"Don't spill a single drop," I murmured, my voice laced with dark amusement.

She looked up at me, eyes brimming with devotion and desire.

We continued our ascent. With each floor, her trembling increased, her pauses becoming more frequent. By the time we reached the top, she was barely holding herself together.

I led her into my room, closing the door behind us with a soft click. As I turned, she was already on the ground, her legs spread, her stomach swollen with my seed. Silver streaks trailed down her thighs, evidence of her failure.

I crouched over her, gripping her face. Her silver eyes were half-lidded, unfocused with pleasure, her lips parted, a thin string of drool slipping down her chin.

I took her hand and guided it downward, pressing her fingers against the slick mess between her legs.

"See?" I whispered, my voice low and mocking. "You leaked."

A slow, sinful smile curved her lips. Hunger flared in her gaze, dark and insatiable.

"Now, you need to be punished again."

A moan escaped her at my mere words.