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Homelands Pt. 06 Ch. 01

By: jdnunyer



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Author's note

Part Six takes shortly after Part Five. It is not necessary for you to have read Parts One, Two, and Three, but if you have not read Parts Four and Five, you will find the story difficult to follow.

Just as Part Three concluded the portion of the story set in Autumn, Part Six concludes the Summer cycle. Part Seven will take us to Spring and introduce a new cast of characters, as Part Four did. But, as I've said before, this is not the last we'll hear from these characters. As will be apparent by the end of Part Six, all of the individual parts of the story are ultimately going to converge.

As ever, if you have questions feel free to email me or leave a comment. Either way, I'll try to respond in a timely manner.

This is primarily an incest story, but it is also sci-fi/fantasy, and supernatural elements are not incidental to the plot. Additionally, many chapters will feature elements of other categories, particularly group sex and anal.

All sexual acts are consensual and involve parties who are at least eighteen years of age.

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From the carefully arranged flowerbeds that were filled with row upon colorful row of exotic specimens to the exquisite jade statues and the marble fountains, the royal garden absolutely took Patty's breath away. Even more stunning than its beauty, however, was the fact that it was found on the grounds of her father's palace. Hank Fisher was a man whose most colorful item of clothing, so far as she could tell, was a faded pair of jeans. A man who often wore a bowler hat and carried a cane, as though they lived in some other century.

Then she spotted her sister standing by herself in the shade beneath one of the taller statues and it came to Patty.

There was a reason that it seemed like her father couldn't possibly be responsible for such a gorgeous display. Annie had been living with him for nearly two months now. In that time, she'd hardly left the royal palace. In a sense, the place was her home more so than it was their father's. It only stood to reason, then, that Annie's sense of style would make itself known. Granted, Patty had never known Annie to have much of an eye for such things either. Her sister had never missed an opportunity to call Patty an old woman trapped in a young woman's body whenever she found Patty watching HGTV or reading Better Homes and Gardens. But she'd often suspected that Annie had more interest in her sister's pursuits than she let on. And it was easier to believe that she'd picked up something from Patty than it was to imagine that her father knew the first thing about floral arrangement.

Patty went over to Annie, tapped her on the shoulder, and said, "Love, love, love what you've done with the place."

A faint smile spread across her sister's lips, but she didn't turn to face Patty. Instead, her gaze lingered on what was apparently an object of extreme fascination.

Following her sister's gaze, Patty found, to no great surprise, that Annie had been staring at their father. He stood a dozen yards away, talking to Gabriela and Eric. And he was looking pretty damn good, too.

She'd never understood Veronica's thing for older men. Nor had she any idea that Annie, of all people, shared it. If her sisters had felt their father's absence so keenly when they were growing up, Patty couldn't quite see why. She'd never thought that their two mothers were anything less than perfect parents. Had never really wondered what life would be like if their father hadn't left, or why he had done so. Not any more than was to be expected, anyway.

But, just at that moment, it was a little easier to wrap her head around. He still wasn't really her type, but she could definitely see the appeal.

It helped that he'd adopted a younger appearance. No longer was her father's mane mostly silver. Streaks of it still remained, but his hair was mostly chestnut brown now. Where there'd once been a scraggly beard, there was now only smooth, clean-shaven skin. Skin that still looked worn and tough, but significantly less so than it had before. Some of the lines that had been etched into his face were no longer there, while the deepest of the remaining crevasses had become a bit shallower. If their father had been relatively handsome for an older man before, he was now simply handsome, without any need for qualifiers.

No less important than the changes in his face, though, were those in his wardrobe. Patty had dated guys who dressed plainly, and she'd never thought anything of it. Even thought it cute. But she had to admit that seeing her father dressed so well was having an effect on her. The black three-piece suit he wore was of the finest silk and could not have been cut more perfectly to fit his form. It made his shoulders look broader and his waist thinner than she thought she remembered them being. The fabric squeezed tightly about his biceps and quads, but had the right amount of slack elsewhere. And, of course, it made him look sophisticated. His wing-tipped shoes were smart, his silver watch beautiful, and his green tie more colorful than anything Patty had seen him wear before. True, he was still carrying that cane around, but it seemed less out of place now. And he'd lost that silly hat.

He looked more like a wealthy playboy entertaining guests than he did a king receiving subjects. And not the kind of playboy who women fawned over simply because of his money.

"Isn't he just dreamy?" Annie asked with a sigh.

"Yeah," Patty said. "He actually kinda is."

"Sorry," Annie said, finally turning around. "I haven't seen you in forever, and here we are talking about me."

Actually, they were talking about their father. But, apparently, that was a distinction without a difference. After all, by agreeing that he looked good, Patty was effectively commending her sister on landing a great catch.

Annie gave Patty a hug, looked her over, and said, "My, my. Isn't that a pretty dress!"

Patty blushed.

It was, really. But it definitely wasn't the type of thing Annie would be caught dead in. For one thing, it had an empire waist, right up beneath the bust. The kind of waistline preferred by women who prided themselves on having nice breasts but felt the need to hide the rest of their body. For another, it had a modest neckline. Though Patty was indeed proud of her full yet perky breasts, she'd never been as comfortable putting her girls out there the way quite as shamelessly as Annie did.

Worst of all, though, the dress was pink. Not baby pink, either. Shocking pink.

There had undoubtedly been a time in her life when Annie had worn pink. As an infant, if nothing else. But Patty couldn't remember the last time she'd seen her sister in it.

Given all of that, she found it rather unlikely that her sister had actually meant what she'd said. Besides, if she had, it would have been the first time she'd ever paid Patty a sincere compliment for her choice of clothing.

But Patty didn't care. She liked the way she looked in the dress. It drew one's eyes towards her breasts without being indecent, and it helped to deflect attention away her broad hips and big ass. Her legs didn't even look too short in it, the way they did in most every other dress she'd ever tried on.

If Annie was thinking to herself that it was ghastly, that it was entirely too girly for a grown woman to wear, well, that was her problem. Patty wasn't going to let anyone ruin the good mood she'd been in since she'd slipped it on earlier that afternoon.

"Me? How about you?" Patty said, slapping her sister gently on the shoulder. Her eyes traveled up and down Annie's figure. "You'll have to forgive me. If it seems like I'm staring, that's only because I am."

"Oh, stop," Annie said, looking away. Then she grinned and peered back at Patty through a fan of long eyelashes. "He picked it out for me," she added as she tugged at the hem of her green cocktail dress with her thumbs and forefingers. "I never thought green was my color, but I look good on his arm when I wear this."

"I bet you do," Patty said.

It was a bit trampy for Patty's tastes. Her sister's boobs were practically falling out. But if it had a more modest neckline, it would have been gorgeous. The silk was elegant and the color rich and fabulous. It fit Annie just right too. In that dress, Annie looked like she was all legs and breasts and nothing else from the waist down.

Which of course meant that it wasn't anything Patty could ever wear. She absolutely did not have the hips for a dress like that. Or the legs.

"Anyway, Pattycakes," her sister continued, "How the hell have you been?"

"Oh, I don't know," Patty said. She stared at her feet, trying to focus on how pretty her pink nail polish was and how cute her white strappy sandals were rather than thinking about her sister's question. "Fine, I guess."

"You guess?" Annie asked. "What's there to complain about now that Daddy's king? Summer's become the paradise that it should be!"

Patty worried at her lower lip.

It wasn't that she disagreed. Since their father had taken power, a lot of things had changed. The worst of the old rules had been scrapped. They could be with whomever they pleased, whenever they pleased. No more pairing up with random members of the family for a year at a time before everything got reshuffled. Patty and her siblings had never even submitted to that practice, but it had always sounded absolutely insufferable.

Nor did the new king demand much from them. No one was expected to sleep with him if they didn't want to, the way they had been with Phil. So long as they didn't draw too much attention to themselves in the Playground, they were basically allowed to go about their lives as they pleased.

The real question, of course, was how long that would last. Nick and Veronica were convinced that their father was just trying to lull everyone into a false sense of security while he built up a proper power base. Once he had, he'd impose his will on them. Rule with an iron fist. Or dragon's claw, for that matter.

Still, that wasn't why Patty hesitated.

"You don't want to hear it," she said.

"Course I do," Annie said, brushing her fingertips through Patty's hair and giving her a sympathetic look. "You're my sister. I want you to be happy."

Well, if nothing else, their father had taught Annie to lie more convincingly. Perhaps he'd even taken some of the venom out of her blood. Helped ease her insecurities. It wasn't often that Annie told either of her sisters that she wanted them to be happy.

"It's just that I'm kinda lonely," Patty said. Then, laughing at herself, she added, "Can you believe that? We left behind the mortal world for some crazy fantasy world of non-stop sex. Fun for the whole family. I'm getting more play than I ever did before. Really, really good sex, too. Whenever I want it. But, somehow, despite all that, I've never felt so alone."

Annie frowned then pulled her in for a hug.

The shock of it almost made Patty fall over. After a quick recovery, though, she wrapped her arms tightly around her sister's waist. She even rested her cheek against the shelf formed by Annie's big boobs. It felt good to just hold her sister. To get some recognition for what she was going through without having to explain it or justify it or defend it.

"You'll find someone," Annie said at last.

Patty burst out laughing.

This wasn't the Playground. They weren't mortals. There weren't plenty of fish in the sea. She had two brothers, a father, and a grandfather. That was it. Eric and Gabriela were every bit as inseparable as Nick and Veronica. And Patty didn't really care for older men, even those with killer bodies. After what had happened with Kurt, that meant she was pretty much out of options.

True, she wasn't really limited to her family. In fact, they weren't even supposed to fall in love with each other. Despite everything that had changed since their father ascended the throne, that much was still true. But no one seemed to be paying attention, including the king himself. And it wasn't like she met others of their kind all that often either. Seemed all the men of the Homelands were too busy with their mothers and their sisters and their cousins to get out to the bars or join dating sites or do whatever her kind did to meet people when and if they strayed away from home.

Why did her cousin have to turn out to be such a spineless mama's boy? Why did he have to choose to remain in the Eternal Garden? Why didn't he love her?

"No, really," Annie said. "You will."

"Where?" Patty said with a sad laugh.

"You'd be surprised...."

Patty raised an eyebrow. "You know something I don't know?"

Was her cousin coming back to Summer?

"Maybe I do," Annie said with a coy grin. "There are benefits to sleeping with the king."

Patty rolled her eyes. "I bet." Then, when her sister didn't elaborate, she said, "Well?"

Annie shook her head. "He'd kill me if I ruined his big surprise."

"Come on," Patty said, slapping her sister's upper arm.

"Not gonna happen."

And, true to her word, her sister said not another word about it.

#

"Have you got it with you?" his father asked.

"Got what?" Eric asked, brow furrowed.

"Eric!" his mother whispered.

Those green eyes darted down to Eric's right hand, which had been repeatedly curling into a loose fist, opening up, and then closing again. As if he were gripping the handle of his sword. Eric could almost feel the worn leather against his skin. His Libido quivered at the mere memory of the blade and the way it gently but persistently drained energy from him. He hadn't noticed that at first, but the more he bonded with the sword, the more noticeable it became. His daily sessions practicing with the blade increasingly left him fatigued. But when it was in his hands, he felt powerful. Invincible, even.

He hadn't even realized that he'd just been daydreaming about holding his blade, longing for the thrill of its touch. It was just that he'd been so tense since the moment they began preparing for this gathering.

Something big was going to happen here today. Something he wasn't going to like. He didn't know what, but he knew that much.

"Always," Eric told his father at last.

The king gave a nod. "As you should. But you won't have need of it today."

Like he was going to tell Eric that he meant him harm.

But that was just his nerves talking. His father had something planned, and it wasn't going to be good, but neither was it going to threaten his life or that of his mother. If the king wanted to take them out, he wouldn't do it like this. When and if that day came, there'd be no advance warning. No hours of dread and anxiety and preparation.

Besides, since taking the throne, his father hadn't really given Eric any reason to oppose him. Quite the opposite, in fact. Things had been quiet. He and his mother had been happy. As happy as could be expected, given the loss of Uncle Wes.

It was only when he'd invited them all to his palace for the first time since his ascension that Eric had begun to wonder. To lose sleep.

From the moment his mother had shown him the silver envelope and the handwritten letter contained therein, one question had been on Eric's mind: what devious plan of his father's was about to come to fruition?

Perhaps it was just that his other children had finally come of age and he wanted them to be there when his new wife and kids formally joined the court. The timing seemed like it could be about right, and Gabby thought that's what this was all about. But Eric didn't think it was so simple. Even if there were to be more Fishers inducted into the First Court of Summer that night, Eric doubted that such was the real point of the gathering. There had to be something more going on. A reason why he wanted them there.

His mother put a hand on his shoulder. "Relax, baby." Then, turning to her former husband, she said, "Forgive him, Your Majesty. He's just forgotten his manners."

The king offered Eric a mirthless grin. "Maybe it's time for a father-son chat, hmm?"

"That's not neces-" Gabby began.

But when the king whipped his head from Eric to his mother, and those emerald eyes bore into her, she swallowed her words.

Eric's hand itched for his sword worse than ever. A seam formed in the air and split open. A moment later, it would be in his hands.

He might be the king, and he might be Eric's father, but no one looked at his mother like that. Not while Eric was around.

That was when the Hardt clan walked through the gate. The five of them were led by Flori, who looked every inch the proud matriarch, despite her casual attire. Or perhaps a general leading her troops into battle. After all, with that short haircut of hers, it almost looked like she was wearing a helmet. And her determined stride was more befitting a military man than an elderly woman.

What Eric noticed most of all, though, was the way her dark eyes locked onto the king. It almost came as a surprise when they didn't shoot lasers out and burn his father to a smoldering crisp right then and there.

At that point, even his father looked tense.

"Actually, I should go talk to them anyway," Gabby said. "I haven't seen Jennifer in weeks." She turned back to Eric's father. The look she gave him was slightly bemused. "And she probably needs to work her way up to speaking to you."

A faint grin spread across the king's lips.

Eric looked a question at his mother, but without so much as a word, she told him that it was okay. Their eyes met, and her gaze was unwavering. He also sensed a stately calm in her Libido. Had they been alone, he still might have protested, but he'd only have lost the argument anyway. And it was best if the king saw them as a united front.

"Shall we then?" his father asked, gesturing towards a footpath that meandered through the garden out to the hedge maze.

Reluctantly, Eric nodded his assent.

As they started walking past the flower beds and statues and fountains, his father said, "You don't trust me one little bit, do you?"

"Should I?" Eric asked.

"I may only ever give you this one piece of fatherly advice," his father replied. "So hear me well when I say that your mother is the only person you should trust completely."

Eric stubbed his toe on a slate paving stone, nearly tripping over.

He'd expected his father to tell him not to trust anyone. That was what people like him were supposed to say. His father never took any risks he didn't have to take. What bigger risk could there be than to completely trust another person?

His father smiled. For a moment, neither of them spoke. The only sound was the soft gurgling of water as it gushed out of the carved dragon heads and into fountain basins below. That, and the soft click of his father's cane against stone.

"You trust your sister," Eric said at last.

"Of course," his father replied without hesitation. "Love conquers all, eh?"

Eric frowned. "Now you're just mocking me."

"Whatever would give you that impression?" his father asked.

"But only her," Eric said, ignoring his father's question. "Everyone else, even Annie, you see as being every bit as much of a threat as I am?"

His father cocked an eyebrow. "Are you a threat then?"

Eric trailed his fingers along the scales of a dragon statue as they passed it by. "Maybe I am. Maybe I'm not. But I know that's how you see me."

"Clever boy."

With a flick of his father's wrist, the statue snapped its jaws at Eric. If he hadn't recoiled quickly enough, he'd have lost a finger. A moment later, it was still as a statue once more.

"Let's get one thing straight," his father continued. "No one is a threat to me. Not my sister, not yours, and not even you." Then, with the hard edge gone from his voice, he said, "Yes, my sister is the only one I trust completely. But Annie and I have grown very close these past few months. At times, I almost forget that she's got Hardt blood in her veins."


Homelands Pt. 06 Ch. 01



"What's that supposed to mean?" Eric asked.

"All I'm saying," his father said, planting a hand on Eric's shoulder, "is that you don't have to think of everyone as an enemy, but you also shouldn't make the mistake of thinking you can rely on anyone the way you can your mother. Not your brother, not your sisters, not anyone but Gabby."

"What's so special about my mother?" Eric asked.

His cheeks burned the moment the words left his lips. That wasn't what he'd meant at all. It was just confusing to hear his father talk about her that way, especially since it didn't sound like he himself counted Gabby among the select few individuals he trusted.

A coy smile spread across his father's lips before he said, "Nothing, so far as I'm concerned. But what the two of you have is. You are in love, aren't you?"

Eric didn't respond.

"As I thought."

"And why shouldn't I trust the Hardts?" Eric asked.

"Where were they when your sister went missing?"

"Nick nearly died trying to-"

"Do you think that was out of loyalty to you?" his father interrupted. "Why then did he go off on his own rather than backing your play?"

"You yourself told us that it would be smarter to-"

Again his father cut him off. "You've heard of reverse psychology, haven't you?" When Eric didn't respond, he said, "That was for your benefit. As was the visit from Nina."

Eric's skin burned.

"Come on now. I'm not really telling you anything you didn't already know here, am I?" his father asked. "Anyway, the point is, trying to kidnap Phil's sons was about the stupidest thing you could have done. Even if they'd succeeded, they'd have been in serious trouble. The king never would have played ball." His eyes twinkled as he added, "Especially since he didn't have anything to trade."

It took a great deal of effort on Eric's part to keep from grabbing his sword.

"Had Nick and Veronica, let alone the rest of the Hardts, gone with you, your uncle might be alive today. And you might have slain the king before I ever showed up. Who knows. Maybe it wouldn't be me sitting on the throne right now."

Eric's jaw nearly cracked, he gritted his teeth so hard. "If I wanted to be king, I could have been anyway. I didn't step aside because it was you who delivered the killing blow. I just knew that I wouldn't be able to hold it."

His father raised an eyebrow at him. "Your brother's not the only one who takes after his father, is he?"

"Besides," Eric continued, "you have no way of knowing that Wes would have been any more likely to survive that fight."

"Of course I don't," his father replied. "But my point still stands. The Hardts may not bear you any ill will, but you'd be a fool to trust them the same as you do your family."

"They are my family."

His father laughed at him.

They'd reached the edge of the garden anyway. His father gestured towards the hedge maze, a unspoken question lingering in the air.

Eric nodded. He didn't love the idea of letting his father lead him into a maze, but it seemed clear enough that the point of this whole conversation was simply to spook him. Nothing more. And even that wouldn't work unless he let it. Which he wasn't going to.

Except maybe a little. For as soon as he and his father walked under the arched entrance, the hedges filled in behind them, and, despite himself, Eric gave a start at that.

"It does that," his father explained. "The only way out is at the center."

"But you know the way there, of course," Eric said.

An awkward moment passed before the king said, "Of course."

They turned left and kept walking. In silence.

"Your mother," his father said. "Is it her huge tits? The insane contrast between her waist and her hips? Or do you just have a thing for blonde hair and blue eyes?"

Eric shook his head by way of response.

"There are plenty of other women in the Homelands built like her, you know."

"Fuck you," Eric said.

His father shrugged. "Just sayin' that it might be time to start thinking about taking a wife. Starting a family." He peered at Eric out of the corner of his eyes, those damned emerald orbs of his glowing. "There are plenty of houses that would love to marry their daughters off to the king's strongest son."

"I'm sure they'd be very thankful to you for arranging it too," Eric said, pointedly avoiding his father's gaze.

"Oh, my dear boy. This isn't about me," his father said.

"Of course not," Eric replied. "You're just looking out for my best interests. Mighty kind of you." In his most mocking tone, he tacked on, "Your Majesty."

The only reaction that got out of his father was a grin.

They rounded a corner and started down another identical stretch. Literally identical. Right down to the same bumps in the ground and clouds in the sky and stray branches of hedge obstructing their passage.

A shiver ran down Eric's spine. Creepy as they might be, ordinary mazes weren't so bad. Veronica had told him years ago that all you had to do was keep your hand on the left wall and sooner or later, you'd find the exit. But that obviously wouldn't work here.

"You're the head of House Moody now," his father said. "To survive, a house needs to grow. That's just how it is, here in Summer and throughout the Homelands."

"And we're down two members now," Eric said. "I get it."

He was being an asshole about it, but his father did have a point. House Moody was no longer what it was. And something needed to be done about that.

They tried not to think about it, but at times, it felt like his uncle's ghost was there in bed with him and Gabby. And he couldn't deny that he was really starting to miss Olivia. And with Patty spending as much time with the Hardts as she did at home, their spacious villa could feel awfully empty.

"What's it to you, though?" Eric asked.

Suddenly, his father's cane lashed out, striking the nearest hedge. The foliage immediately began to retreat, revealing a paved clearing. Along the edges sat stone benches. In one corner, there was a shallow pool with glistening lily pads and crystal blue water. Scattered throughout were jade statues, twin to those standing in the garden.

At the center of the clearing stood a wooden door. It wasn't set into a wall or anything though. It just stood there, looking for all the world like a waste of lumber.

"Is that the way out?" Eric asked.

"Think about what I said," the king replied, gesturing with a sweep of his hand towards the door. "While this might not mean much to you coming from me, for whatever it's worth, I think that you'd make a great father."

#

Their mother was trying her best to give the impression that she was there of her own volition, not because she'd been browbeaten into submission by her own mother. She wasn't fooling anyone, though. Least of all Nick.

Her brother, bless his heart, always seemed to know when something was bothering the women he cared for. Often before they themselves did. And if it was in his power to do anything about it, he'd waste no time doing so. So it was no surprise to Veronica that as soon as their mother tensed up, her brother forgot all about her. The hand that had held hers just a moment before now rested on the small of their mother's back. Though Nick faced Gabriela, he kept peeking out the corner of his eyes at the mother standing by his side.

It was sweet.

Really, it was.

That her brother was so attentive and caring was one of the things Veronica liked best about him. If it also seemed like one of his greatest faults, particularly when other women were the beneficiaries of his sensitivity, that was just the price she had to expect to pay in order to be with a man who was so perfectly attuned to her feelings. It was not fair for her to get upset about it.

But she couldn't help thinking that it was their mother's own fault that she couldn't bear to set foot on the palace grounds without freaking out. That she even seemed to dread speaking to her former wife, despite the fact that Gabriela hadn't wronged her in any way, let alone as badly as the father of her children had. If their mother chose to react this way before anyone even said anything unpleasant to her, well, that was no skin off Nick's nose. Certainly no cause for him to forget all about the woman he supposedly loved more than anything in the world.

No, that was no fair.

To their mother.

She hadn't asked Nick to swoop in and protect her. Hadn't said a word of protest since the night before, however much they could tell that she wanted to do so.

And she was already warming up to her former wife. Gabriela was marveling at how good she looked in her simple dress and how nice her hair looked in a braid. With just a few kind words from her former lover, Veronica's mother seemed to loosen up. Tension started to seep out of her like water from an ice cube set out in the sun. Something very much akin to a smile even spread across her mother's face. When she told Gabriela how fabulous the latter woman looked in her floral skirt and tube top, it sounded as though she truly meant it. If Veronica wasn't mistaken, she'd have said that her mother was genuinely pleased to see the statuesque blonde who'd once warmed her bed at night.

If Nick thought someone other than Veronica needed his attentions, that was on him.

Veronica felt thoroughly disgusted by her brother's sycophantic need to monitor their mother's emotional state, especially as it became clearer and clearer that she was actually enjoying herself, if only for the time being. She looked around the garden to see where her grandparents had gotten off to. Looking for an escape.

She was pleased to find them talking to Annie and Patty. If they'd been talking to a convicted child molester, Veronica might have preferred their company to her brother's just then. That they were with the sister she'd hardly seen in months was all the more reason for Veronica to go and join them. So she patted her brother on the arm, indicated that she was going to talk to their grandparents and sisters, gave Nick a peck on the cheek, and then struck out for greener pastures.

As she headed towards the other group, Veronica found herself feeling a bit overdressed. Her grandmother and her mother had both opted for more casual wear. The one wore khakis and a white blouse, the other an open-backed gray dress of plain cotton. Her grandfather wore an unseasonable sports coat, but it was paired with worn jeans and a threadbare T-shirt. Even Patty was dressed comfortably. Which was not to say that her sister looked anything less than adorable in her pink sundress. Veronica doubted that anyone could pull off the pretty in pink look the way her sister could. But it certainly wasn't the kind of thing you wore to sip martinis and dance with men wearing tuxedos.

Annie, though, wore a breathtaking cocktail dress that would have been suitable for a red carpet affair. Lest anyone forget who she was with these days, it was, of course, emerald green. Her hair was worn up and styled beautifully. The blonde streaks didn't even look as silly as Veronica usually thought they did.

Whatever small part of Veronica was tempted to be jealous of her sister backed off as soon as she saw the smile on Annie's face. When last she'd seen her sister, there'd been rain clouds hovering over her head. Now, she looked as happy as Veronica had ever seen her.

If that was an illusion, if their father went and broke Annie's heart the way their mother was convinced that he would, Veronica would rip his balls off. Her sister deserved to get to smile like that. Any man who took that away from her would pay for it dearly.

"Vee," Annie said as she approached. "It's been too long. How come you never visit?"

"Have we been invited?" Veronica asked as she wrapped an arm around her sister and planted a kiss on her cheek.

Patty tried to hide a snicker.

"You're welcome to come see us, dear," Grandma Flori cut in.

"Yeah," Grandpa Randy added, grinning. "We wouldn't complain."

Their grandmother rolled her eyes at her husband, but her lips soon stretched into a grin and she reached over to pinch his bottom.

"I'll do that," Annie said. "Soon as I finish renovating." She smiled wistfully to herself as she looked back towards the hedge maze, where their father had taken Eric just a little while ago. "You wouldn't believe how hard I have to lobby to get him to change the tiniest little thing. Especially since he always ends up admitting that I was right after he's had a chance to get used to the new look."

"Actually, I think I would believe that," their grandmother said flatly, gazing off at one of the fountains. "Your father is not known for giving up easily."

"You're telling me," Annie said.

Their grandfather smirked at that, but their grandmother frowned.

Veronica regarded one of the statues. It depicted a dragon poised to take to the sky, wings stretched wide and weight balanced on its hind legs. "The jade was his idea, right?"

Annie blushed. "Actually, no."

With an eyebrow raised, Veronica asked, "Really?"

Before she could answer, Patty interjected. "Annie was just going to tell us what the king's big announcement is." With a tap on Annie's elbow, she added, "Weren't you?"

"Look at you, little miss sweet and innocent," Annie said, staring at her sister in amazement. "That almost sounded like you were bailing me out."

Patty gave her younger sister a guilty grin.

Veronica looked from girl to the other, trying to read between the lines. She wasn't sure exactly what had just transpired between the two of them, but she didn't think they were going to get anything out of Annie.

"So you do know what it is?" Flori asked, in a tone that killed everyone's smiles. "The king's announcement?"

"I...I don't...," Annie said. She looked to her grandfather for help.

Unfortunately for her, he responded with a simple shrug of his shoulders and a look that said, "Don't drag me into this."

However, that was also when the remaining guests arrived. An insanely beautiful woman in a gossamer blue dress led two handsome young men into the garden. One of the men was black, the other had green skin and a decidedly draconic appearance. As different as their complexions were, they were of a height and had similar builds.

Breathing a deep sigh of relief, Annie said, "That, girls, is our aunt. Her name's Nina. And the guys with her are sort of our cousins and sort of our brothers, seeing as she's their mother but the king's their father."

Veronica and Patty gasped at the same time.

Grandma Flori's lips tightened. "Well. Isn't that...interesting."

#

"Hey, sweetie," Nick's mother said, tapping him on the shoulder. "We're leaving."

"Already?" he said, turning away from the cheese board.

She nodded.

The sky was a canvas that the sun had painted gold, orange, crimson, and violet. The drinks had been flowing freely for some time, and they'd all just about had their fill of the rich spread of hors d'oeuvres the king had laid out. But the ice still wasn't broken between them and the newest members of House Fisher.

More importantly, Nick suspected his father still had another bomb to drop.

Not because the news that his new children had been mothered by his sister wasn't big enough to explain why he'd invited them all here. It was. But his father wasn't the kind of man who made reckless decisions. And, as forbidden as inbreeding was supposed to be throughout the Homelands, Nick could only assume that there was going to be some kind of a backlash when word got out. His father would assume that too. If the king was ready to go public with such a shocking revelation, then there had to be other things that he hadn't told them yet. Contingency plans or whatever. One way or another, changes were coming to the First Court of Summer. They'd have to be.

The only question was whether or not the king was going to inform his loyal subjects of such changes before they occurred.

But, then, it was a wonder his mother had stayed as long as she had. As much as it had seemed like she'd actually been enjoying herself while catching up with Gabriela, the return of the king and the arrival of his new family had made her look like a vegan touring a slaughterhouse. There was no way that he was going to talk her into hanging around a while longer in order to see if his father had any more big announcements to make.

"Grandma and Grandpa too?"

His mother stroked his upper arm. "Keep an eye on your sisters. Especially Patty."

That took him by surprise.

Not long ago, his mother couldn't be bothered to acknowledge that Patty actually was his sister. She'd warmed to Gabriela's daughter in the months since Nick and Veronica had brought her back from the Eternal Garden of the Sun, but he'd never thought he'd see the day that his mother would tell him to look after Patty.

Even setting those concerns aside, he'd still have expected her to single out Annie. They'd all been waiting with bated breath for the moment when the king would reveal his true colors, when Annie's decision to go live with him would prove itself to be a mistake. But, then, over the past few hours, he'd started to believe that it just might be possible that such a moment might never come. The two of them had such chemistry together that even when they were talking to other people, the air hummed with electricity. Had his mother actually picked up on that? Was she capable of admitting to herself that the man she loathed and despised might be a good match for her daughter after all?

"I will, Ma. Don't worry."

She gave him a wan smile. "I know you will, baby. Sometimes I just need to hear myself say these things." For a moment, she simply stared into his eyes, and Nick felt their Libidos stir in unison. "They're lucky to have you for a brother. Sometimes you remind me of...."

His heart pounded in his chest, so loud he could barely hear anything else. It took him a moment to process what she'd said, and what she hadn't.

"Yes?" he asked.

His mother sighed, and after a few moments, he realized that was all the answer he was going to get. Rather than tell him who he reminded her of, she turned her head and tapped her cheek in a silent bid for him to give her a goodbye kiss.

Instead, he grabbed her by her big ass, pulled her against him, and kissed her properly. Which was to say, not on the cheek.

If she hadn't pulled away when she had, he might have ripped her dress off and had his way with her right there, even if that would have meant that everyone would be watching. The feel of her full lips on his, her big breasts pressed against his chest and her absurdly perfect ass in his hands, to say nothing of the pulsing desire of her Libido, made it almost impossible to restrain himself. Considering that they lived under the same roof, they enjoyed one another's affections entirely too rarely.

"You're a good man, Nick," his mother said, raking her nails through his hair. "I'm so proud of you. Probably don't tell you that often enough, but it's true."

"I know you are," he said. "And I appreciate it."

"Don't stay too late," she said, the way mothers do. Then, in a decidedly unmotherly voice, she added, "There might be room in my mother's bed for the both of us tonight."

Nick smiled. "I'll see what I can do."

Those were good nights. Very good nights. But unless Veronica wanted to spend the night with their grandfather, it wouldn't matter how late they stayed. He never left his sister's bed unless she wanted him to do so. During the day, they were a bit freer in spirit, taking other partners with some frequency. But one of the reasons that neither of them had any problem with that was that they had a standing agreement to share a bed at night. To fall asleep in each other's arms and wake up beside the one they loved. Every now and then, Veronica got in the mood to change things up, but only rarely.




Homelands Pt. 06 Ch. 01



His mother fretted at her lower lip and he felt a flash of anxiety streak across her Libido. She wanted a more definitive answer from him, he knew. But, in the end, she simply nodded, kissed him again, then went to gather up her parents.

He watched her leave, hypnotized by the way her ass moved under her flimsy dress. The thin fabric clung to her in the most enticing manner. And she had the most amazing lower body. It was an absolute shame that he didn't spend more time caressing those legs and squeezing that ass. That he didn't spend more time in her arms, gazing into her dark eyes and running his fingers through her luxuriant hair. He loved Veronica with all his heart, but she could never entirely replace their mother.

He sighed to himself, piled a few pieces of cheese and a couple of crackers onto his little plate, and went back to join his sisters.

#

"But they don't seem interested in anyone other than Annie," Patty said, eyeing her strange new brothers. Or cousins. Or whatever they were.

In their own way, each was smoking hot. Patty had never been with a black guy before. She'd always secretly wanted to, but had always been too scared to talk to them. Troy was built like Eric, had skin like milk chocolate, and carried himself with a quiet confidence that made Patty's heart flutter. If not for his green eyes, you'd never have guessed who his father was. His brother, Mike, also had a body very much like Eric's. But his skin was green and scaly, his teeth and fingernails were elongated and sharp, and a row of silvery spines ran from his bald forehead to the small of his back. He scared Patty, but she found that she couldn't look away from him. Couldn't stop wondering whether his other parts were equally exotic or whether he had something more conventional to work with down there.

"Or maybe she's the only one willing to talk to them," Nick pointed out.

"Was only polite to introduce ourselves to our aunt," Veronica protested. "How would it have looked if we'd gone straight over to the guys?"

"Like you're more interested in men than women?" Nick said.

Veronica rolled her eyes at him.

For her part, Patty blushed and looked away. Their brother had a point. No one would think less of them if they went and talked to the guys. Why should Annie have all the fun anyway? She already had a guy. At the moment, the king was apparently more interested in her mother. She and Eric had been standing there by that fountain talking to her father and Aunt Nina for some time now. Ever since she and Veronica had excused themselves from the conversation with the sister they hadn't known that their father had.

"I don't know," Patty said.

How could she still get this nervous about talking to guys? It wasn't like she was all that inexperienced anymore.

Except, she was. At this part. Ever since Eric had initiated her, she hadn't once needed to go through the "getting to know each other" phase before jumping into bed.

"If you two don't go over there soon, I'm going to drag you," Nick added.

Patty gasped. "You wouldn't!"

"I would."

Veronica slapped his arm. Then, to Patty, she said, "Of course he wouldn't. He's secretly hoping we don't even bother talking to them and instead propose going home early with him." Turning back to her brother, she said, "Am I right?"

"Can't say I'd turn that down," Nick replied. "But I know your minds would be elsewhere. As they should be. Besides, I want you to sample everything on the menu. You'll come back to your old favorite in the end. But better if you do so without any reservations."

"How romantic," Veronica said in her best deadpan. But a bemused grin gave her away.

Patty's head was spinning and her lungs couldn't seem to get enough oxygen. What if they were just as nervous as she was? What if they were jerks? What if they really were only interested in Annie? Why put up with awkward silences or nasty put-downs or being ignored when she could take her brother and sister home for a mind-blowing threesome? It wasn't like that was ever going to get old. In fact, each and every time that she shared Nick with Veronica was just a little bit better than the last.

But what if they weren't like that? What if she really hit it off with one of them? It sure would be nice to not have to share anymore. It had been weeks since she'd fallen asleep with a man beside her without there also being another woman in bed with them.

Annie had said she'd find someone, and she'd been thinking of Troy and Mike when she'd said it. No reason to expect her to try to hog all the attention. She might even try to play matchmaker. Help break the ice. Nothing to be nervous about.

Nothing at all.

Besides the fact that she felt like she might vomit and she wasn't at all sure that her legs would cooperate with her if she tried to walk over there.

"Okay, let's do it," Veronica said, placing a hand on the small of Patty's back. "I'll follow your lead, Pattycakes."

She gave a squeak at that.

Only after her brother and sister descended into a simultaneous bout of laughter did she realize that her sister was teasing her.

They really didn't think she could do it, did they? To heck with that.

Patty drew a deep breath and broke away from their little safe zone. After just a few steps, the voice in the back of her head that had been stunned into silence spoke back up, demanding to know what she was doing. But it was too late. Her brother and sister were following at her back, and Annie had already glanced over and smiled at her. Then the guys looked at her too. No turning back now.

The introductions and first few minutes of chitchat blurred past without any disasters. The butterflies in Patty's stomach settled down. Her heart was only beating twice as fast as it should have been. Things actually seemed to be going well.

"...perfectly normal growing up," Mike explained. "The first time I ever changed was after Mom initiated me."

"It never came out when you were growing up?" Nick asked.

Mike shrugged. "Not really. I guess I only started to think of myself this way, to see myself this way, after she told me who my father was. What my father was. I guess that means this isn't the `real' me. But ever since she told us who we were, this is, I don't know, my default setting. I can look like you all if I want to. But I actually have to try."

"Really?" Annie asked. "I'd have thought it would be the other way around."

By way of response, Mike closed his eyes, furrowed his brow, and clenched his fists. Then he began to change before their eyes. A minute later, there was a perfectly ordinary, if remarkably handsome, young man where there had once stood a draconic figure. Tiny little scales that she almost hadn't even noticed in the first place disappeared into skin that was no longer green but instead lightly tanned. Like his mother's. The spines receded into his flesh and a full head of chestnut brown hair sprang into being. His perfectly straight, beautifully white teeth were no sharper than anyone else's.

"Does it hurt?" Veronica asked. "When you change?"

"Feels sorta like holding your breath, or crossing your eyes," Mike replied. "Unpleasant, particularly if I do it too long, but, no, it doesn't hurt."

And with that, he reverted to his more fantastic form.

"And what about you?" Patty asked Troy.

"What about me?" he asked.

"Do you have to try to be black?" she asked. "Were you always like that?"

His head recoiled. With a sneer, he asked, "Do you have to try to make your legs that short and stumpy? Your thighs that thick?" His green eyes traveled up and down her body before he added, "And where did you get that dress? Baby Gap?"

One of her sisters said something reproachful to him. Called him an asshole or demanded that he apologize or whatever. Patty wasn't sure. She was too stunned to think straight.

Had he really said that to her?

She wanted to say something back. Something equally humiliating. Or maybe take the high road and make him feel small for having been so cruel to her. Something. Anything.

But words failed her. Her throat was tight and her eyes beginning to water.

Without another thought, Patty turned and stormed off. Adding injury to insult, she then twisted her ankle and tumbled forward, nearly falling flat on her face. Tears flowing freely, she scrambled back to her feet and, without even bothering to wipe the grass from her knees and palms, ran into the palace.

"Patty! Wait!" Nick called after her.

She couldn't bear to see the looks on their faces. Not any of them. So at the sound of his voice, she merely sped up. But once she was safely inside her father's house, she turned around and threw herself into her brother's arms.

"Shh, it's okay," he said, smoothing her hair.

"How could he say those things?!"

"I don't know," Nick said.

"Was it because of what I said?" Patty asked, between sobs. "Was that offensive?"

"If so, I'm not sure how you were supposed to know," Nick said. "Seemed like a legitimate question to me, after what his brother said."

But, of course, Nick would have told her exactly that, even if he'd actually thought her question wildly inappropriate. Damn him. That was what she wanted to hear, of course, but she also wanted it to be true.

"What did Veronica say to him? Or was that Annie?"

"Forget about that," Nick said. "It doesn't matter." He stepped back, looked into her eyes, and asked, "Do you want to go back to your villa? Or come over to our castle?"

"No," she said. "I can't leave. That would be even more humiliating."

"Are you sure?"

"Let's just find a room with a mirror," she said. "So I can get cleaned up. Maybe slip into a different dress."

"What's wrong with this one?" Nick asked.

Patty gave him an incredulous look.

"What?" he asked. "It's really pretty. Who cares what he thinks."

Even as tears continued rolling down her cheeks, Patty gave her brother a smile. He always knew just what to say. That could be really infuriating at times, since she never knew if he meant any of it. But it still might have been one of his best qualities.

If it had been Kurt there with her, he'd probably have made some obnoxious comment about how black guys were supposed to like thicker girls. Or maybe she only thought that because the sunlit folk were so bigoted towards lesser immortals that she couldn't understand why her cousin would choose to remain there if he wasn't something of a bigot himself. Either way, she was glad that it was Nick who'd run after her and not anyone else.

She went up on tiptoes and kissed him softly on the lips.

Her brother then led her out of the sun room, up this hallway and down that one, in search of a bedroom or a bathroom.

They found a small guest room a few minutes later. At least, they assumed it was a guest room, since the closets and dressers were empty. Patty stood in front of the mirror on the back of the door and cleaned herself up. The grass and dirt fell away and her makeup touched itself up. The pink dress, though, remained.

At least, until Nick came behind her, staring at her the way no man had ever done before, and kissed her shoulder. A moment later, her brother was helping her with the zipper.

She'd always felt that her brother cared for her. When he looked at her, she felt his love and affection. Ordinarily.

Not this time though.

Instead, what she found there was raw, animal lust. It took her by surprise. And set her insides on fire. Her pussy quivered and her Libido roiled and her knees trembled.

Patty was the good girl. Innocent and sweet and cute. Guys liked her. They were nice to her, and protective of her. But they didn't burn with desire for her. Didn't lose control of their senses at the mere sight of her. That, they only did with other women. Women who walked and talked and looked the way Patty never could or would.

When her brother threw her, firmly if not quite roughly, onto the bed, she nearly squirted. He climbed atop her without saying a word. His clothes drifted away in puffs of smoke and his dark eyes suddenly lit up.

That brown eyes could glow the way their father's did, the way Aunt Zoey's had, came as a surprise to Patty. A most pleasant surprise.

"Nick," she panted as he pressed his manhood to her moist folds.

He didn't wait for her to finish the thought.

"Ungh," Patty groaned as her brother's fat helmet plunged into her. Eager to welcome him inside as she was, it still took her breath away when that glorious cock pushed past her entrance. "Fuck, that feels so good."

"Does my little sister like being thrown around?" he asked, nearly snarling. "Are you a good little slut?"

"Oh, god," she said.

His words burned her ears. She never would have guessed that she'd enjoy hearing him speak to her like that. But words couldn't describe how powerful, how desirable, it made her feel. She'd awakened something inside him that had never before seen the light of day.

Not even with Veronica.

If it had, her sister would have told her.

"Fuck me, Nick," she panted. "Use me."

And he did.

Better than anyone ever had.

He never got too rough. Even caught up in the moment as she was, Patty thought she'd have made him stop if he had. But for all that he wore facial expressions she'd never seen from him and spoke to her as he'd never had before, his movements were surprisingly restrained. Not nearly as tender as they usually were, but neither did he once hurt her, even a little. She might not have minded if he had been just a little more forceful, but all in all, it was seven different kinds of perfect. He groped at her hungrily, fondling her breasts and squeezing her ass. He thrust into her powerfully, rapidly, and deeply. He kissed her urgently, insistently, as if afraid that he might die if he didn't get enough of her.

Then, after pouring buckets of cum into her vagina, he pulled out and flopped on his back. He panted for air, grinning from ear to ear.

Patty herself had lost count of how many orgasms she'd had. Each had one been intense enough to make for a good night, and they'd been one right after another for some time.

"That was...." She paused, searching for the right word. There was none. Nothing could describe how good that had been. Patty smiled and gave her brother a thumbs up as she laid down atop his hard chest.

He laughed and gave her bottom a soft slap.

"You're an asshole, Nick," she said as she planted the faintest of kisses on his lips. "A real asshole." She gave him a fuller kiss. "You know that right?" A long, proper kiss.

"Sorry," he said. "Hope I didn't scare you."

"That's not what I meant and you know it," she said.

They both fell silent.

Why couldn't he be hers? Why did he have to love Veronica? How could he make Patty feel like she was the only woman alive, when they both knew that he was going to spend the night in their sister's bed? No doubt their mother felt the same way when she was with him. And, given half the chance, he'd probably have Annie and Grandma Flori convinced that they were just as special to him too.

It just wasn't right.

"I love you," she said, surprising herself with the admission.

"I love you too, Pattycakes," he said with a warm smile.

"No," she said, slapping his chest. "Not like that. I mean, I love you."

His smile faded. "I know. I love you too."

"Don't lie to me, Nick."

"I'm not."

She pressed her lips tightly together and furrowed her brow. Patty could almost feel steam coming out her ears.

With a sigh, Nick swept a lock of hair away from her face and said, "I can't sit here and pretend that you're the only one for me. What you and I have will never be what Veronica and I have. But neither can she replace you. I love you both."

"But not equally," Patty said.

"Why does it have to be a competition?" he asked.

"You don't get it." She let her head flop down onto his shoulder. "Guys never do. You're better than the others, but you're still dim."

Her brother kissed the top of her head. "Would you even want me to say that I did? Is that how you feel about me?"

Patty hesitated. "Nooooo," she said at last, her voice going deep.

"I do get it," he said. "You want to be special. To be someone's everything."

"Exactly."

"Can't help you there."

"Jerk," Patty said, slapping him lightly. She tried to hide her grin as she did.

Her brother kissed her hair again. "But I do love you. I love your kind heart and your sense of humor and infectious cheer."

"I'm just soo sweet," she said.

"You are, though. I realize that's not all there is to you. When the others were either blissfully or willfully ignorant, you always knew when, and why, our mothers were fighting. You'd put on a happy face, but you saw what was really happening."

"Hmmph," she said.

Was that the best he could do? He loved her because she didn't have the emotional IQ of a damp towel? Because she was perceptive enough to notice when his mother glowered at hers far less subtly than she seemed to believe?

"I love how selfless you are. How modest you are. And how you don't let anything keep you down," he continued. "That you used to wear little girl panties every Wednesday. Something with cartoons or cute animals on them."

"Oh, god," she said, laughing in spite of herself.

They weren't little girl panties. She wouldn't have been able to fit in them if they were. But he was right about the rest. She'd change out of them as soon as she got home. It was just something to remind her not to take school and work too seriously. That the weekend wasn't so far away and she could let loose and be herself again soon.

It probably should have creeped Patty out to hear that her brother knew about. But for some reason, she found it really endearing.

"You lied about getting into Stanford, didn't you?" he asked.

"Why would I do that?" she asked, heart racing.

How could he know that? She'd tossed the envelope out right after she'd read the news.

"Because you knew how important it was to Veronica," Nick said. "How disappointed she'd have been if she knew that you'd both gotten in."

"She was the first to console me," Patty continued.

"Of course she was," he said. "And she'd have been the first to congratulate you if you'd told the truth. But we both know that she was glad to see you go to UCLA."

"Exactly how long have you been stalking me?" Patty asked.

Her brother smiled.

"Thank you." She kissed him on the cheek. "For being you."

"Don't thank me yet," he said. "I'm about to express my devotion more properly."

"Oh my," she said.

Nick pushed her off him, rolling her onto her back. Then he set about seducing her from head to toe. The boy had absolutely magical fingers. And tongues. So many tongues.

Some time later, after he'd practically put her into a sex coma, the two of them decided to go and see if there was still a party to rejoin. Patty's feet were probably touching the ground, but it hardly felt like it. The sea of euphoria through which she swam made it hard to process any other sensory input.

They ran into Mike in the hallway.

"Oh, hey," he said. "I was looking for you."

There was no question which of them he meant. He hadn't so much as acknowledged Nick's existence with a glance.

"Really?" Patty asked.

"I wanted to apologize for my brother," he said.

It took some effort to keep her surprise from showing. Here the monstrous brother was, apologizing for the painfully gorgeous one.

"I'll see you later," Nick said, smiling as he planted a soft kiss on her cheek.

She started to protest, but he'd already turned around and headed down the hall.

#

Annie felt frozen in place. She couldn't believe what Troy had just said. Though she'd only just met her brother, he'd seem decent enough right up until then.




Homelands Pt. 06 Ch. 02



######################

Author's note

As ever, if you have questions feel free to email me or leave a comment. Either way, I'll try to respond in a timely manner.

This is primarily an incest story, but it is also sci-fi/fantasy, and supernatural elements are not incidental to the plot. Additionally, many chapters will feature elements of other categories, particularly group sex and anal.

All sexual acts are consensual and involve parties who are at least eighteen years of age.

########################

"And this," Hank declared, "is the master bedroom."

Gabriela's jaw dropped.

It was less a bedroom than a penthouse apartment. And it looked nothing like any apartment she'd have expected Hank to live in. Where she'd have thought there'd be bookshelves and statues, hardwood floors and a earthy colors, she found ultra modern furnishings, the latest hi-tech toys, pristine carpeting, and luxurious furniture. Everything was black and silver except for two green throw pillows on the black leather sofa, the cabinets in the small kitchenette, and the small garden that sprouted up from the middle of the floor just in front of the TV. The fireplace was set back in the wall and enclosed in glass, rather than a stone hearth. Two walls were made of glass, granting them a stunning view of the garden as well as the swimming pool. One of the floor-to-ceiling windows had a balcony on the other side, though Gabriela couldn't see how they were supposed to get to it.

"It's...nice," Gabriela said.

"I liked it better before," Nina said. "But, yeah, it's nice."

The way she said it, you'd never have guessed she was using the same word as Gabriela.

"No dragons," Eric observed.

"Well, there's usually one," Hank said dryly.

"And one little dragonrider," Nina said underneath her breath.

"Can I get you something to drink?" the king asked.

He tossed his cane aside. It fell into a pocket of nothingness, disappearing from view. It would never be too far out of hand there, Gabriela knew. Eric did the same with his sword.

With a twirl of his wrist, Hank coaxed a bar out of the floor. It too was black and silver. And fully stocked, not only with liquor and wine, but glassware, ice and everything else.

In short order, soft music was playing, a fire was roaring, and they all had drinks in hand. Nina was dancing slowly with herself, rolling what passed for hips and shaking her flat ass. Even in the skimpy red cocktail dress that made it impossible not to notice her, the effect was somewhat less than impressive.

At least, Gabriela would have thought so.

Eric's eyes had gone wide, and though he was trying very hard not to stare at her, he wasn't fooling her. Even before he spilled a mouthful of beer down the front of his shirt.

"You know he can't help it," Hank whispered, slipping up behind her. His hands encircled her waist so naturally, it was easy to forget how many years had gone by since he'd held her like that. "It's just how us guys are wired. Once he's had a taste, he'll lose interest quickly enough. But for now, she's the one flavor he's never tasted."

Gabriela drew a deep breath.

He was right. She knew that. If any woman could steal her Eric from her, which she very much doubted, it wouldn't be Nina. She was attractive enough, and even Gabriela couldn't help but wonder what a woman with nearly as much power, experience, and confidence as Nina must be like between the sheets. But she wasn't her son's type. Not anymore. He'd outgrown that phase. These days, he preferred his woman to be built like women. Those flower stem legs wouldn't do anything for him, and her ass could even fill the palms of his broad hands. Besides, he'd never cared for brunettes. Even before she'd initiated him, Gabriela had never seen his son fall for a woman without blonde hair.

But it sure would be nice if he'd stop drooling.

"Give them some time alone. Let him get it out of his system," Hank continued.

Reluctantly, Gabriela nodded.

As if she'd heard them, Nina gave her brother a sultry look then beckoned Eric over with a curl of her finger. Gabriela watched as her son closed in on his aunt and began to dance with her. Most respectable institutions would have thrown them out if they'd danced like that in public. Eric had Nina's dress hiked up, her panties pulled aside, and tips of his fingers gently teasing her glistening labia as they continued to gyrate to the music.

They only kept at that for a minute or so. Then Nina stepped away, pulled the hem of dress back down, and, without a word, spun on a heel and left the bedroom. A single glance over her shoulder told Eric that he was to follow her, and follow he did.

"A bit accustomed to getting her way, isn't she?" Gabriela asked.

Hank put a hand on her shoulder. "He'll be back in your arms soon enough." He lowered his voice. "Back in your womb. Doing the job he was born to do."

Her heart raced.

With an awkward laugh, she said, "For a second there, I thought you were giving me permission to conceive my son's child." She let that hang in the air a moment. "Silly, huh?"

"Not really, no," he replied.

"No, that's not silly?"

This couldn't be happening. He was fucking with her. Trying to figure out whether she'd ever thought about having more children. Whether she disapproved of inbreeding. Or maybe just looking for an excuse to laugh at her.

"We're not supposed-"

"We can do whatever we want," Hank said firmly, but without any emotion. "Understand, it's not that I've decided to ignore the rules. I've chosen to change them."

Gabriela dropped onto the sofa, suddenly finding her legs incapable of holding her up. A drink appeared in her hand and she swallowed most of it in one gulp.

The king came and stood before her. "It takes some getting used to, doesn't it?"

She laughed. "Are you kidding? I've been fantasizing about it every day for months."

Hank grinned.

"But you knew that," she said.

Of course he did. Hank's talent for reading Libidos made Nick's seem nonexistent. And her desire to feel her son's child growing inside her was so intense, it was almost paralyzing.

"Your sons," she said.

"Are the real reason I left you," he finished.

That hadn't been what she was going to say, but she was glad to hear it. She still couldn't quite forgive him. He should have stayed with her until Eric at least had come of age. But better that be his reason than Phil's offer to serve as Shadow.

"They must be powerful, to go around looking like that."

After she reached the point where the image of herself that she had in her mind was that of an overweight, middle-aged mortal woman, it had gotten to be easy to keep up the illusion. Took effort to revert to her true appearance, in fact. But, initially, wearing another skin all the time had been hard on her. And it was a modest enough change at first, back before the woman she was pretending to be had begun to age. For his son's to sustain such exotic transformations couldn't have been easy.

"They take after their mother," Hank replied.

"Is that what it's like?" Gabriela asked. "When we mate with each other?"

Her head spun. What kind of children would Eric give her? Little lions? Giants? Or just even more beautiful and powerful than their parents? Perhaps some son of theirs would one day steal her away from Eric. And maybe, just maybe, she'd want him to. If any man was to do so, at least, she'd need it to be their son.

"There's a reason they're all about it in the Eternal Garden and the Shadowed Glade," Hank said. "It's only here in the seasonal courts that it's prohibited."

"They are?" she asked.

It was a stupid question. He wouldn't have said so if it wasn't. But she was too intoxicated by the thought of having her son's sons to think straight.

So she did the only logical thing and filled her glass back up.

"You've never heard of the Unshackled Maiden? Or the Trilateral War?"

When Gabriela gave no other response than sipping her drink, Hank smiled and ran his fingers lightly through her hair.

"I gather I should have," Gabriela said at last.

The king shrugged. "You're in good company. Up until a few years ago, I was equally ignorant. Even now, my sister is one of only two others in the entire First Court of Summer who know the tale."

"You told Annie?"

She'd never been close with Jennifer's youngest, but Gabriela would have thought that the girl would at least tell one of the Hardts. And if she did, Nick would eventually hear of it. Which would mean that Eric would too.

"Not her," Hank said. "I meant Flori Hardt. She was the first to know."

"So she told you?" Gabriela asked.

"Of course not," he replied. "Nevermind who told who what or when they told them. That's not important. The point is, long ago, when there was only one court beyond the original two, some `lesser' immortal dared to dream of walking the Earth. The real one. Not a Playground, or an echo, or a Dreaming, but the home of mortal men and women."

"So?"

Hank dropped down on his haunches, took her hands in his, and looked her in the eye. Even when they weren't glowing, those emerald orbs took her breath away.

"They'd never allow that," he said. "The ancients, who rule over the Eternal Garden and the Shadowed Glade."

"Why not?" Gabriela asked.

"Mortal desire is a powerful thing. Stronger than you can imagine."

Gabriela frowned. She'd slept with mortal men. Hardly worth starting a war over.

"Those men weren't real," Hank said, guessing her thoughts. "They were but shadows cast by real mortals. When you fed off them, you were pulling their energy across worlds, and hardly a trickle of what they had to offer got through. You've no more tasted mortal men than you have felt the warmth of the sun."

"Oh," was all Gabriela could manage in response.

"Exactly."

"What's that got to do with inbreeding?"

"Each generation of purebreds grows stronger than the one before."

"You mean inbreds?"

"If you prefer," Hank said. "Myself, I don't care for the term."

"Purebreds," she said.

The king nodded. "The Unshackled Maiden never took a husband. But she had many sons, each fathered by a previous son. And she Devoured all of them."

When Hank explained what that meant, Gabriela gasped.

"It's a surprisingly common practice elsewhere in the Homelands," he went on to say.

"That's horrible!"

"Indeed it is," he said. "But the power it brings is not to be underestimated. Nor is the desire for power found among most of our kind."

Most. Was she to believe that he was any different?

"At any rate," he continued, "the Unshackled Maiden grew quite powerful before anyone even noticed what she was doing. Her power rivaled that of the ancients themselves. But there was only the one of her, and many of them. If not for the fact that the children of the sun and the moon are so utterly incapable of putting aside their hatred for one another, even temporarily, the whole affair would have been over before it began."

"Hence the Tripartite War?" Gabriela said. After Hank touched a finger to the side of his nose, Gabriela asked, "She lost though? This Maiden?"

"Eventually, yes," Hank said. "Another war soon followed, but it was a civil war. One court became four, and thus Summer, Spring, Winter and Autumn were born. What remained of the Maiden's bloodline rules over Winter to this day."

"Lady Winter is her descendant?"

The king nodded.

"And she's looking to do what her great-great-great-grandmother could not?"

Hank shrugged. "Maybe. Maybe not. Your guess is as good as mine. Whatever her motivation, though, she is Devouring her son's sons, and she's far more powerful than any other immortal you or I will ever meet."

"How does she get away with it? Why haven't the Eternal Garden and the Shadowed Glade tried to stop her?"

"No doubt they will, in time," Hank said. "If she gets strong enough."

"She's still not a threat to them?"

"Our blood has thinned over time. Though her power has grown immensely, she's still nothing compared to the ancients, or even the Unshackled Maiden."

"How do you know this?"

"Is that really important?" he asked.

Gabriela sighed. "No."

"Is that why you're so sure that no one will punish us for having each other's children?"

"A bit more complicated than that, I'm afraid," he said. "Daphne herself wouldn't tolerate it, unless I swore fealty to her and became another one of her pawns."

"Another one?"

"The Matriarch of Autumn, Iva of House Farrier, is basically a puppet for Lady Winter. The same goes for Lady Titania in the Vernal Courts."

Gabriela's throat felt tight.

"There's no choice but to whore ourselves out to some greater power. I chose the devil I know." He stood back up. "The first Temple of the Sun will open its doors in a few days."

The sound of that appealed to Gabriela not at all. But Hank assured her that it wouldn't be so bad. They'd have to bow their heads a whole lot, attend something very much akin to religious services every now and then, and generally kiss a whole lot of yellow ass. But that was it. So long as the sunlit folk felt that they were being treated with the proper reverence, they'd be happy. They order them around or try to control them or anything like that. Just force them to swallow their pride.

And, for that price, they bought the right to do as they pleased. To violate the only rule Hank himself hadn't already revoked.

"You're really telling me that I can have his children," she said. "For real?"

"I am," Hank said. His hand went to her thigh, and Gabriela felt blood rush between her legs. "Your body is yours to do with as you please."

Her body.

It sounded so simple when he put it like that. Why should it be anyone else's business whose children she chose to have?

Of course, it didn't work that way. They wouldn't be agreeing to let the sunlit folk come to Summer and demand to be treated like gods if it was.

But it didn't matter. She was going to be a mommy again, and this time she'd get to hold a baby given to her by her son. That was all that she needed to know. Everything else was just irrelevant, pesky details.

It was her body. And she could do with it as she pleased.

Just then, overcome with joy at the news he'd shared with her, it pleased her to have the father of her beautiful son back inside her once more, reminding her of the magical moment in which she'd conceived Eric. Reminding her of the fist time she'd exercised her power to create life, to bring another immortal into the world.

Her legs slid a little further apart and she placed her hand atop his, guiding him upwards. The skirt that had been wrapped around her turned to smoke and drifted away. The rough skin of her husband's hand sent shivers down her spine as it traveled over the smooth skin of her bare thigh. It had been too long since she'd felt that.

"You think he'll be interested?" Hank asked.

Gabriela stared into her husband's emerald orbs. "What do you think?" Her hands cupped her large breasts and her tube top evaporated the same way her skirt had. "The mighty King Hank of the First Court of Summer can't resist me."

"What chance has your poor son got then?" he asked with a smirk.

"Exactly," Gabriela replied.

The hand that had been slowly creeping towards her hungry sex reached its destination. But all Hank did was rub the backs of his fingers against her swollen labia lightly a few times before leaning closer and reaching up to play with her girls. Gently, he swept her hands aside and took hold of her massive tits, massaging them as his thumbs brushed her stiff nipples.

Her breasts enjoyed the attention. They never got enough, truth be told. But, at that moment, it was her womanhood that really needed to be tended to most of all. The brief stimulation it had received had only increased the sense of urgency.

Fortunately enough for her, Hank's mouth soon took care of her little problem.

There was precious little the man wasn't great at, and cunnilingus did not belong on the short list of such things. His lips gently brushed hers, planted soft kisses on her, and pulsated against her clitoral hood. First one, then two, then three tongues invaded her orifices and danced nimbly against her magic button. He licked her clit while tongue-fucking her snatch and running circles around her brown bud. He reached inside her womb and curled his soft appendage back to probe at her G-spot. He pushed her to the brink then eased her back then brought her there again. Over and over and over. All the while, his firm hands continued to play with her breasts. Mouths that didn't seem to be attached to anything worked at her sensitive nipples while he groped her funbags.

It was more than any woman could take. And Gabriela had been pretty worked up to begin with. It didn't take long before her cum was running down the king's chin and her energy was pouring into him like water from an upended jug.

Then Hank gave her an immediate encore.

When Gabriela slithered out of the couch, she felt sure that if she wasn't careful, she'd float away. Her body was not only spineless, but weightless. She could hardly move, and certainly could not have stood up straight. The high her husband had given her through his expert oral ministrations was unbelievably intense.

Her husband.

Only then did she realize that she'd slipped back into thinking of him in those terms. It was like the betrayal that had caused her to resent him for the better part of two decades had never occurred. Washed away by a couple of really good orgasms.

No, not the orgasms. He'd become "her husband" even before that. His atonement came from him giving her his blessing to have her son's child.

It was the second greatest gift he'd ever given her, after Eric himself. How could she hold a grudge against him after that?

"It won't bite," he said. "Only looks like a serpent."

Gabriela shook herself out of her reverie. Only then did she realize that the king's royal scepter was staring her in the face, waiting to be polished. And only then did she realize that he actually sounded nervous. Not merely impatience, but genuinely nervous.

That was so unexpected, it almost made her want to hold him in her arms, press his face against her breast. Did he actually think she'd let him down? Or was he worried that he might fail to impress?

There was no risk of either of those things coming to pass.

"It's beautiful," she said as she took hold of his massive cock with both her hands. It was bigger than anyone she'd ever had, even Eric's. Not by much, maybe, but it was. Especially in girth. "No, not beautiful," she added. "Majestic."

Hank smiled, his green eyes glimmering.

It was time to break out her own bag of tricks. Most of them, anyway. There were a few things she had no intention of bothering with. Deepthroating, for starters. With some effort, she could unhinge her jaw and swallow that python whole. And he'd have marveled at the sight of her every inch of his beast deep in her throat, no doubt. But that was all she'd accomplish. All a man's sensitivity was in his head. So Gabriela wrapped her lips around his foreskin and set to work, keeping his helmet in the front of her mouth while her tongue relentless worked him over. Meanwhile, she stimulated his Libido, made him feel light fingers running down his back and chest, pressed a finger against his prostate, and used ghostly mouths to suck on his balls.

Hank soon filled her mouth with his warm seed. She'd forgotten how mild the taste of his cum was. It was fruity, slightly sweet, but hardly distinctive. He'd once brought home a couple of dragon fruits. If she'd never tasted the things, it never would have occurred to her to say that was precisely what Hank's spunk tasted like, but that was what came to mind.




Homelands Pt. 06 Ch. 02



Even after she swallowed several gobs of it, his balls kept pumping. He pulled back, let the tip of his cock rest against her lower lip, and shot a few more spurts onto her tongue. Then he withdraw from her mouth entirely and jerked himself vigorously as he covered her from hair to navel in his sticky goo.

As each rope landed on her, Gabriela giggled. It wasn't the most pleasant feeling in the world, but neither was it the worst. And it only took a thought to clean up. More importantly, it made her feel good, powerful, sexy, to know that she could make a man cum so endlessly. It didn't matter that she knew he was only able to serve up that much spunk through supernatural intervention. That it was the energy he was drawing out of his Libido that he was coating her in as much as it was his sperm.

When he finally finished and plopped down onto the couch behind him, she sat there and led him to savor the image. Just for a few moments, though. Then she shook herself off like a dog that had just come in from the rain. What didn't go flying simply evaporated.

"Every bit as talented as I remember," Hank said.

"At cum removal?" Gabriela asked, climbing to her feet.

"You know what I mean."

"I could say the same," she replied. "But I've never had your talent for empty flattery."

"You wound me," he said, draping a hand over his heart.

"Mmm hmm," she said, straddling his hips. "I'm sure. How ever will you recover?"

He planted his hands firmly on the tops of her butt cheeks and pulled her closer to him. "I have a few ideas," he said, before pulling her in for a kiss.

When his monster cock forced its way inside her, she felt like she'd been punched in the gut. She'd have had an easier time accommodating his fist and his forearm. But after a minute or so to get used to his unnatural size, it felt good. No one filled her up like that.

And no one knew her body like he did. Hank didn't need to be told when to speed up or slow down, to give it to her faster or harder. His every touch, every kiss, every thrust, was perfectly timed and perfectly placed.

There was a small voice in the back of her mind that argued, rather insistently, that she couldn't allow herself to think such things. He was not her husband anymore, and he neither was nor ever had been the perfect lover. He was cold and distant. A master dancer going through a routine. To an outsider, his movements achieved a rare and haunting beauty. But to the artist himself, there was no life or passion involved. For him, it was little different than a child reciting their multiplication tables. Hank didn't love her. Wouldn't travel to the ends of the universe for her. Wouldn't risk his life for her.

There was only one, now, who would do that.

Her son.

Yet, with Hank inside her, his many mouths piously worshiping her, and his strong hands holding her, it wasn't hard to tune that voice out. To let herself get swept away by nostalgia and fantasy. To imagine that there was something more taking place between the two of them. That fate had brought them back together. When it was all over, she could go back to not believing in grand forces like fate. Until then, she'd cling to the illusion.

Those green eyes lied so well.

When they lit up, Gabriela told herself that it was his passion for her that was shining through. No matter that his Libido, as ever, was calm and still. His breathing remained steady and his hard body dry, his brow unmarred by sweat. As long as he looked at her like that, luminescent eyes unblinking, she could believe what she needed to believe.

After she rode him to an intense climax, they took a break for Gabriela to catch her breath and shared another drink. Their glasses were empty again before long though, and then Hank was taking her from behind.

Slowly, Gabriela regained her bearings. No longer did she feel lost at sea in the midst of a typhoon. Little by little, she brought out a few of her own tricks.

"Oh, fuck," the king panted.

His thrusts grew slower and slower. He lingered longer and longer every time he slid home. The smell of his sweat filled the air.

"What's the matter?" she asked, giving her hips a wiggle.

"Not a thing," Hank replied.

"No?" Gabriela asked.

Before he could reply, she attacked his captive member. Her womb reshaped itself, taking hold of him and massaging him from within. With his senses amplified as heavily as they were, she could only imagine what that must have felt like for him.

He gasped, grabbed hold of her hips, and shuddered. His balls danced against her body as he started to climax. Gabriela's womb quickly filled to overflowing. The king poured his royal cum into her body and his abundant energy into her Libido.

As he did, she herself gasped for air.

Everything she'd ever known or cared about suddenly seemed insignificant. With that much power in her, she could do whatever she pleased. Rule over Summer. Challenge the ancients. Walk along the shores and swim in the seas of the one true mortal realm. Men would worship her, and not just figuratively. Women would envy her and yearn for her and love her, even as they cursed her name.

It had never been like that before.

Hank had never been weak. Not by any stretch of the imagination. But getting him off had never given her such a rush. Not even just a little while ago that evening. Somehow, she'd broken through all his defenses, and discovered just how powerful he was.

And it terrified her.

It was exhilarating at first. And she couldn't help but wonder if even Nina had ever gotten him to open up quite so fully as she just had. There was a powerful ego boost in that, to be sure. But she couldn't savor it. Not now that she knew exactly how strong Hank was.

No man should be allowed to amass that much power.

The evening's activities didn't end there. But both she and Hank were considerably more reserved after that. And neither dared speak of what had happened.

#

As soon as they got inside the spare bedroom, Eric grabbed his aunt and threw her on the bed. He'd told enough himself so many times in the past that she wasn't really his type, but a few minutes of her grinding all up on him had his engine threatening to overheat.

It wasn't anything she did. If he could step back and be objective about it for a moment, he'd have had no problem saying that Liv put her to shame. His cousin could tear up a dance floor. And often did. If his aunt could as well, she hadn't done much to prove it.

But when she'd rubbed her ass against him, small and shapeless as it was, he'd felt something. Eric had lived in the Homelands long enough to know that the electricity coursing through his body had been supernatural, that Nina was putting her considerable power to use enchanting the shit out of him. But it didn't matter that he knew exactly what she was doing to him. She'd still done it, and it had still worked.

On some level, he was still Eric of House Moody, son of Hank Fisher. A proud and powerful immortal who could have any woman he desired, whose bed was warmed each night by the stunning goddess who'd given birth to him.

Yet, if only in his mind, he was something else entirely. A starved lion whose belly had been empty for so long that the poor beast had gone half-mad. There was no room for pride left in that desperate creature. No concern about the loss of dignity he'd suffer if he pounced too soon. There was only the relentless, unforgiving, gnawing hunger.

"A little eager are we?" Nina asked, giggling, as she rolled onto her back.

The smile on her face made Eric question precisely who was predator and who prey.

"You look a lot like your father, you know," she said. "Anyone ever told you that?"

Eric had been about to jump on her, wicked grin or no. But that gave him pause.

"Especially with your eyes glowing like that. Blue's not so different from green anyway."

He wasn't sure how to respond to that.

He decided not to though. That dress of hers was too intact. It was in desperate need of being ripped to shreds and scattered across the room. So, with alacrity that would have shamed the lion he almost believed he was, Eric leapt onto the bed.

Which was suddenly empty.

"Oh, you can do better than that," Nina said.

He spun around.

She stood now by the door, which they'd left open. Her brown eyes fixed on him, she raised one heel and eased it shut. Eric wasn't sure if it was just his imagination or not, but her dress seemed to have gotten even tighter. Her breasts, so much smaller than his mothers yet so much larger than made any sense for a woman of her build, might as well have been exposed. The fabric clung to her body so tightly, in fact, that he could make out where her mound was shaved bald and where she'd left a tuft of pubic hair.

"You tease," Eric said. Or perhaps snarled.

"Me?" she asked, looking off to the side and pumping her hair with an upraised palm.

He slipped out of bed, moving slowly and tentatively. One leg swung onto the floor. His weight shifted forward. As he started to rise, the other leg joined the first on the carpeted floor. Aunt Nina still hadn't disappeared again.

He rushed forward.

And ran right into the door.

"Come on," his aunt's voice called from over by the window. "This isn't even going to be fun, if you make it that easy."

"Didn't know I was supposed to be helping you enjoy torturing me," he replied.

"Well, you are," she said.

Eric split himself in two.

"Now we're talking," Nina replied.

It still took him four more tries before he wrapped his arms around his aunt's waist and pinned her against the wall. She was laughing her fool head off as he tore her dress to pretty little shreds, covering the floor with scarlet ribbons. She kept right on laughing as he guided his rock hard cock up to her womanhood.

The laughter stopped as he pushed his way inside though.

"Oh, fuck," his aunt groaned. "You really are your father's son."

"Go on," Eric said, pulling her hair tight. "Compare me to him again."

"Mmmm, I guess we know who's in charge here."

He gave her bare ass a good slap by way of confirmation.

Nina fell silent as Eric used her for his pleasure. She barely even moved. If she knew how to make her body do the things his mother always did for him, she was keeping that to herself. It was almost disappointing. She was tight, and he was burning hot for her, for a release, so it didn't take long for Eric to finish. But he'd sort of expected to feel the ground tremble, for his mind to fill with images of clouds parting and angels singing and fireworks sparkling. Expected to feel something different. Something unique.

Turned out, his aunt was just another woman. Her cunt was warm and wet and welcoming, the same as any other box he'd ever been inside. No more and no less.

"My turn," she said, after Eric pulled out.

Then he realized how wrong he'd been.

She had, of course, been playing with him. Humoring him. He'd behaved as if he was in charge, so she'd let him feel like he was. Made herself into a living doll until he finished.

Over the new few hours, his aunt rocked his world. She toyed with him, dominated him, submitted to him, chewed him up, and spit him out. They tied each other up. Decorated each other's bodies with love bites and hand prints and scratches.

It was unlike anything he'd ever experienced.

In part, that was because of how powerful she was. There were times where he'd been fucking something decidedly inhuman. Something much furrier, but with too many humanoid features to really be considered a tiger. They'd made love in the air, defying gravity. Hands and mouths and eyes had floated all around them, playing an important supporting role. The sights, sounds, and smells that his aunt conjured up served as a perfect complement to the physical and metaphysical pleasures his body was trying to process.

But it was also something simpler than that.

Eric had never met a woman who'd proposed trying most of the things they did that night. Had never really thought he'd be interested in them. Might not even be, after tonight. Yet, if only as a one-and-done proposition, just to see what it was like, the kinky shit she introduced him to proved quite enjoyable.

Afterwards, they lay side by side, breathing heavily and slowly healing their wounds.

"I never would have guessed you were into that stuff," Eric said.

"Maybe I'm not," she said.

"You and my father don't play tigers and dragons too often?"

She grinned faintly. "Now you want me to compare you to him?"

Eric chuckled. "Fair enough."

His aunt reached down and took hold of his semi-flaccid cock, stroking him languidly. "Just felt like something you'd go for. For some time now, you haven't been sure whether you want to fuck me or fight me. Figured I'd let you have your cake and eat it too."

There wasn't much to say to that. So he just leaned over and kissed her on the cheek.

"So," she said. "It's a lion, is it?"

Eric laughed. "Guess so."

"Suits you."

"Thanks," he said, a bit unsure of himself. It came out almost like a question.

"Lions and tigers sometimes mate, you know," Nina said. "The offspring are either called ligers or tions, depending on which was the mother and which the father."

Eric stared up at the ceiling, a smile on his face. "Learn something new everyday."

"Have you thought about having offspring?" she asked.

He coughed and sat up. "Are you...."

"Not with me, silly," she said. "Just making conversation."

"Not exactly `some weather we're having' or anything."

With a sigh, his aunt sat up too, crossing her slender legs beneath her. "What weather? It's always warm and sunny and perfect in Summer."

Eric ran his hand through his hair nervously. Suddenly he felt overexposed. A pair of pajama pants appeared out of nowhere, covering him up. "You know what I mean."

"It was just a question," Aunt Nina said, reaching out to place a hand on his knee.

"Your brother asked me the same thing earlier today," he said. "Forgive me if I find it hard to think that that's a coincidence."

"My brother," she said flatly.

"He is, isn't he?"

"Yes, Hank is indeed my brother," Nina replied, rolling her eyes. "That doesn't mean the sun rises in the east and sets in the west because we conspired to make it so."

"Why does he care if I have kids?"

Her hand retreated. "That you'd have to ask him. How the hell should I know?"

Eric stared into his aunt's beautiful face for a few moments. There was anger there, but pain as well. He wished he had Nick's talent for reading Libidos. Even after having gotten intimate with her, he couldn't sense much more than that she was incredibly powerful. Which he already knew. It could all be an act, and he'd have no way of knowing.

He didn't think it was though.

"I'm sorry," he said, taking her hand in his and raising to his mouth to brush the backs of her fingers with his lips. "It's just hard to trust him."

"Because he lied about Patty and Kurt?"

"Well, there's that," Eric said. "But I was thinking more along the lines of abandoning us when we were children. So he could be with you, apparently."

"Can you blame him," she asked with a devilish grin.

Eric chuckled in spite of himself.

"I'm not him," Nina continued. "Nor am I responsible for everything he does." She took her hand from his and pressed it to his cheek. "I ask if you've thought of having children because I'd love to meet them. You'd make a great father."

"He said that too."

"Maybe because it's true," his aunt replied.

"Maybe," Eric said.

"What I need to do in order to get you to trust me?" Nina asked.

"I don't know," he replied.

A sad expression settled over her face.

Eric grabbed his aunt by the shoulders, spun her around, and pulled her against him. Her back pressed against his chest and the clean smell of her hair filled his nostrils. He rubbed her slender little shoulders and kissed the top of her head.

"He doesn't even tell me half the shit he's planning," Nina complained, her voice bordering on shrill. How that could be so cute, Eric wasn't sure, but it was. Perhaps because he liked seeing her helpless and frustrated. "Do you know how long he waited to tell me that Annie wasn't just serving him as Shadow temporarily? That even after I rejoined the court, she'd keep that title?"

"Really?" Eric asked.

"Yup," she said. "Not that I'm jealous. Better her than me, I say. The less involved I am in politics, the better. But you'd think he'd at least have told me."

"Yeah," he replied.

His aunt rolled her head against his shoulder and looked up at him out of the corner of her eye. "Don't do that to your mother." She paused a moment before explaining what she meant by that. "When you become king. If you don't intend to name her as your Shadow, and you'd be a fool not to, at least tell her. Straight away."

"Why are we talking about me becoming king?"

"Oh, please," she said. "We all know it's just a matter of time. Might not be soon, but the day is definitely coming."

His heart beat faster.

"Fatherhood, on the other hand...."

#

The door creaked open and footsteps creaked across the floor.

Annie did her best to lie still.

The bed shifted as he sat down on the edge of it. His breathing was steady and soft. The smell of him, that earthy musk with the slightest hint of sulfur and ashes, awakened her Libido. Her dragon, come to her in the middle of the night. But not for that. Not this time.

Suddenly, she felt like a child. And not in the good way that so often happened when she was with him. At that moment, she wasn't a little princess with a magical ability to make her daddy smile. She was naughty little Annie, the girl who'd gotten in trouble at school for beating up boys and cutting another girl's hair and talking back to the teacher. The rebellious youth who would do anything just to get a little attention.

"I know you're awake," her father said.

Of course he did. It hadn't taken Annie long to figure out that it was utterly impossible to deceive him in even the smallest of ways.

"Okay," he said, sounding more amused than upset. "I'll talk, you listen."

She adjusted her position. Rolling about in her sleep, trying to get more comfortable, perhaps. Or maybe acknowledging his proposal.

He'd know which, obviously. But she felt like she had some plausible deniability at least.

"Even judging by his version, it sounds like he deserved what he got," her father said. "So if I was there to see what really happened, I'm sure I'd think you did nothing wrong."

Interesting.

Annie considered lowering the covers, but decided to continue the charade a little longer.

"But his mother sees things differently."

There it was. There'd obviously been a "but" coming.

"I've always thought she was too soft on him," her father continued. "But we agreed long ago that I would defer to her when it came to Troy and she to me with Mike."

Perhaps that explained why they'd turned out so differently.

"So I've got to punish you."

Without so much as bothering to ask her permission, Annie's pussy started to get wet. It might be different with her actually have done something wrong, if only in Aunt Nina's mind, but she so loved it when her daddy punished her.

Annie sat up. She didn't bother feigning a yawn or rubbing the slumber from her eyes.

"Okay," she said.

Her father gave her a sad grin. "No, not like that, princess."

"Oh." Should've continued pretending to be asleep then. "Why not?"

"She insisted that Troy take part."

"Nuh uh," Annie said, shaking her head and crossing her arms beneath her breasts.

"This isn't a discussion," her father said. "I'm telling you what's going to happen."

She slammed her fists into the bed. "But Daddy!"




Homelands Pt. 06 Ch. 02



"It's what his mother wants," he replied, the firm tone replaced by one of resignation. "I do what I must to keep her happy."

"I'll be here," he said. "You can hold my hand, if that helps."

Annie snorted.

It would, of course. A little. Given the choice between having him there and not, she'd clearly choose the former. But it shouldn't have to happen at all.

Now, Mike, she might not have minded taking into her bed. It'd be a lot easier to picture him as their father. She might not even need to do so. But Troy? He was a total jerk. And he didn't really know what he was doing between the sheets either.

"I really have to?" she asked, trying out her best puppy dog face.

"You really do," he said, as if he didn't even see it.

"What's going to happen now?"

"She just went to his room. And it's already late. So by the time his mother's done with him, it'll be well past everyone's bedtime. But in the morning-"

Annie slapped her father's forearm. "Between you and me."

He raised an eyebrow at her.

"Am I still going to be your Shadow?" Annie asked. "Your little princess?"

"Yes, and yes," he replied without hesitation.

"I'm not getting kicked to the curb?"

He gave her a "be serious" look. "You're going to have to learn how to share. Some nights, it'll be her who shares my bed. Other times, you. Every now and then, hopefully, you both will. But, no, you're definitely not getting kicked to the curb."

"Why did you want me to move in with you?" Annie asked.

A sad look fell over her father's face. If she was the little girl she felt like and she'd been asking him about why they'd had to put the family dog to sleep, he might have had the same exact look on his face.

"You don't really want to ask me that, do you?" he said at last. "We've been together all this time, and not once did it come up. Why now?"

"Because," Annie said. She slipped her hands under her thighs, where they couldn't embarrass her by fidgeting with her nightie or with the covers.

The fact that he'd dodged the question was itself already something of an answer. Up until that point, she'd been content to lie to herself, to buy into the romantic fantasy that he'd fallen in love with her the moment he'd laid eyes on her. Might even have believed it, at least some of the time. But now she felt the need to know exactly where she stood with him. And that meant she had to know what had led him to pursue her in the first place.

"You won't like it," he said.

Her stomach tied itself in knots.

"I don't care," she said. "I still want to hear it."

He looked away. Annie wanted to grab his smooth chin and turn his face back to her. Whatever he had to say, it would be easier to hear if she could look into those emerald orbs. But her hands staid put beneath her.

"I love you," he said. "So much it scares me."

"Now," she said.

"Yes. Now," her father replied. "But you need to understand that I'm not just saying that. Some days, I find it hard to think about anything else. You're always in my thoughts. I'll be talking to some minor noble and his daughter and all I'll be thinking is how good her dress would look on you or whether you'd approve of me wearing whatever it is that he's got on. When I'm alone, I have conversations with you in my mind."

Annie couldn't help but smile. Things were about to take an ugly turn, but she didn't hate hearing these things first.

"Parents always say this, so you might not believe me, but when you're receiving your punishment tomorrow, it's going to be harder on me than it is you," he said.

"You're right," she said. "I don't believe you." Then, with a sigh, she added, "But I'm sure it won't be easy on you. And I appreciate that."

"Point is, I really have fallen for you, Annie. Getting to know you, making up for the time I should have spent with you, playing the role of your father one minute and your lover the next, has been the best thing that's ever happened to me."

The thicker he laid it on, the more scared she got.

He must have realized that, because he finally stopped preparing her for what he was about to say and started saying it.

"I never, ever, take even the smallest risk unless I have a backup plan," her father said. His green eyes finally met hers and some of the anxiety drained away. "When the stakes are really high, I make sure to have an insurance policy underlying that as well."

"What's the difference-"

"Between a backup plan and an insurance policy?"

Annie nodded.

"The one is fully developed, ready to implement at a moment's notice if need be," he said. "And it's designed to achieve the same goal as the actual plan."

"And the insurance policy?"

Something bad was coming. The long buildup ensured that.

But, fuck, with those beautiful eyes looking right at her, everything seemed like it would be okay. That didn't make any sense. She knew it didn't. Yet she fell for it all the same.

"More modest goals," her father said. "Not yet actionable." He drew a deep breath, exhaled. "More of a last resort."

"Okaaaay," Annie said.

Why did it sound like he'd already plunged the knife in? So far, it all sounded to her like a boring business class or something.

"You were my insurance policy."

All the air went out of the room.

She wasn't even sure what he meant by that, but it sure didn't sound flattering.

"You have to understand," he said, an urgency in his voice that would only have been slightly ameliorated if he wasn't talking so fast that his words practically tumbled over one another, "the insurance policy never gets used. I've had to run with the backup plan many times, far more often than I'd like in fact, but not once have I ever needed the insurance policy. It's just for my peace of mind."

"Great," Annie said. "So I'm not only a piece on a chess board, but a disposable one."

"Were," he said. "I told you. I've completely fallen in love with you."

"Mmm hmm." She climbed out of bed, suddenly unable to stand the look of his face. Standing by the window, she said over her shoulder, "So what was I to insure against?"

In a small voice, her father replied, "The king exacting revenge for Nina's treason."

"Come again?"

"The original plan was for her to lead your brother, and whoever else might have come along, in an assault on the throne. Afterwards, she was to convince Eric to proclaim himself king. I wouldn't even get involved."

"Go on," Annie said.

"If that didn't work," he continued, "as it obviously did not, then I was to come in and save the day."

"Which you did."

"Only, what Nina doesn't know is that I wouldn't even have done that if things looked bad enough. If she died in the initial attack, I'd have let the king finish Eric and the others off, and I've had done whatever I needed to do to remain in his good graces. Including using you to get your brother and sister to turn themselves in."

If she hadn't been holding onto the windowsill, Annie might have collapsed to the floor. It was a wonder she didn't vomit. Or cry. Or throw something at him.

Perhaps she would have, if she hadn't been so stunned.

"You've have let them all die," she said at last.

He didn't respond.

"And what of Nick and Veronica? Would the king have agreed to let them go into exile?"

"Probably not, no," he said, voice hardly more than a whisper.

"So you lied."

"It's been known to happen."

Annie whirled on him. "Do you think this is a joke?"

His voice regained its vigor. "Sweetie, do you have any idea how young you sound?"

"I am young, Dad!"

That got her precisely nowhere though. "When you ask someone to tell you everything's going to be alright, and it's clear that you're never going to talk to that person again if they tell you anything else, what do you expect them to do?"

"I don't know, tell the truth?!"

"How many people have ever told you something you didn't want to hear, knowing you didn't want to hear it, and knowing that things would never be the same between you again if they did? One? Two? None?"

She didn't reply.

"Exactly."

"That's not a situation that arises all that often," she said. "Doesn't mean no one would."

"Course not," her father replied. "Honest people exist. So do Nobel laureates. But in all my time in the Playground, I never met one."

"Fine," Annie snapped, turning her back to her father once more. "Your commitment to honesty, or lack thereof, is perfectly average. Congratu-freaking-lations."

"Baby, don't be like that," he said. "It was never going to come to that."

"Right," she said, a bit more sharply than she'd perhaps intended. "You're so clever that your backup plan always works out, even when your original plan doesn't."

He came up behind her and put his hands on her hips. She grunted her disapproval but otherwise offered no resistance. And, much as she wished that she wouldn't have, when he swept her hair aside and kissed her bare shoulder, she felt a sense of relief.

"I understand you're upset," he said.

"Hmmph."

He damned well better.

"But that's all behind us now." Another couple of soft kisses cooled her fire further. "And I wouldn't tell you this if I was still planning to use you like that."

Annie laughed bitterly at that.

"I've never even told my sister. She still thinks that I'd have tried to avenge her death if the king proved deadlier than we feared."

"And I'm supposed to trust you more after you tell me that you're even more duplicitous than I thought? Than your sister, whose known you her entire life, suspects?"

"Yes," he said. "Because there's only one reason I'd tell you this."

Annie sighed.

Fuck. She really wanted to disagree with him. But her heart told her that he had a point. That however things began between them, it had grown into something special.

"Do you want me to stay here tonight?" he asked. "Or would you rather be alone?"

She should have said "alone." But she couldn't help herself.

#

His mother paced back and forth across his room, fuming. Kurt expected his bed to burst into flames at any moment. Still, he sat upon it, safely out of his mother's warpath. His legs were folded beneath him and his hands in his lap.

Small target.

"It might not be so bad," he said softly.

She rounded on him, her platinum blonde locks fanning out behind her. Her irises turned from icy cold to electric blue to golden and glowing in less than a second.

Drawing a deep breath, Kurt pushed on. "Tell me you don't see a little bit of an upside to being treated like a deity."

Part of him couldn't believe that he'd spent the morning trying to convince his sister that they belonged in the Eternal Garden only to come home and have to talk his mother down from the fit of rage she'd gone into when Kurt's grandfather told her that they were to return to Summer. He wasn't sure how to feel about the news himself. But one thing he was certain about was that they'd all be happier if his mother made her peace with it, since Grandpa didn't seem likely to back down.

It wasn't like they were being kicked out either. They were being sent back to serve as some sort of dignitaries. They were to establish a Temple of the Sun. The people of Summer would worship them. Well, the ancients, really. But he and his family would act as agents of those most exalted ones.

"I don't want to be a deity," his mother finally said. "Or a priestess or a diplomat or any of it. Fuck Summer. Fuck Hank Fisher. Fuck House Moody and House Hardt and every last damn one of them. I want to stay here and be a mommy." She placed her hands over her belly. "I want to see your child grow inside me. To welcome it into this world and hold it in my arms and raise it to be a proper sunlit noble that would do your grandfather proud."

"And you will," Kurt said.

"Not anytime soon," his mother replied in a huff. "How am I supposed to carry out my duties as Head Priestess from my labor bed? With a squalling babe at my breast?"

"When we return here then," he said.

Those golden eyes narrowed, piercing right through him.

More than anything in the world, Kurt wanted to hold his mother. To wrap his arms around her and run his fingers through her hair and feel the tension fade away. To hear her sigh and see her smile. When she got like this, it felt like something was wrong with the world. Like a storm was brewing, one that would wash everything into the sea. Like there was a black hole had opened up and would soon suck everything into it.

"Grandpa said-" he began.

"I know what he said."

Kurt swallowed the rest of his words.

The ancients appeared to be taking the arrangement rather lightly. But if they could deliver a few newborn immortals to be raised in the proper sunlit fashion and returned as envoys to Summer, where they'd preach values and customs of the Eternal Garden, things would change. Their family would be rewarded. And other families, seeing that, would send their children and grandchildren to serve as priests and priestesses. Eventually, his mother could step down and the three of them could return to Solopolis. And then his mother could have his children. As many of them as she desired. Olivia could too, if she'd ever make up her mind about whether she wanted that or not.

How far down the road that would be, though, was anyone's guess. Their grandfather wasn't technically commanding them to leave, but it was clear that he was disappointed in them. In him and Liv most of all, but their mother too, for allowing her children to turn out the way they had. If they earned the family a place in a middle ring of Solopolis, closer to the center of the city, their grandfather might welcome them back with open arms. But anything short of that would mean coming back to the same awkwardness they'd suffered for the past few days. That wasn't the worst fate in the world, but once they were in a position to change it, it would be hard to pass up the opportunity, no matter how badly his mother wanted to get away from Summer again.

"You're probably glad, aren't you," his mother said with a sneer. "Can't wait to see your little girlfriend again."

"No," Kurt said.

And, as he said it, he realized he meant it.

It had only been a few days, but he'd already forgotten about Patty. Well, not forgotten about her, exactly. But gotten over her. He wasn't sure whether he had stronger feelings for his mother or Olivia, but he'd have chosen either one of them over his cousin in a heartbeat.

"And your sister's probably dying to see Eric again."

"I doubt it," Kurt said. Whenever his name came up, which wasn't often, she looked like she wanted to either cry or kick someone in the balls. "Probably won't even speak to him."

"Hmmph."

Of course, his mother's foul mood had nothing to do with Patty or Eric. It was the ghost of Kurt's father that made the room feel so cold. Though she never spoke of him, his mother couldn't stop thinking about her late husband. Kurt was sure of it.

Not that his loss had been easy for either Kurt or Olivia to accept either. If Kurt was coping best of the three of them, that wasn't necessarily saying much.

His mother was really devastated though. She'd never really talked about the Eternal Garden or her father or any of that. Granted, it hadn't been that long ago that Kurt heard about Summer for the first time. But his sister, who'd been initiated years before him, had the same impression. Up until their father died, their mother had never shown any interest whatsoever in returning here, nor expressed any objection to living in Summer. They were here to help his mother get her mind off the father of her children, not because she hated her niece and nephew or any of Summer's other children.

Of course, Kurt knew better than to say any of that to his mother.

"I won't say you can't see her," his mother said, tugging at the braid she'd taken to wearing at her father's insistence. "But I'll tell you one thing, mister, if you think you can run away with her again-"

"Ma," Kurt said. "I won't."

"-I'll disown you," she finished, as if she'd never been interrupted. "I don't want to hear you using the `l' word either. And, this should go without saying, but if you even think about getting her pregnant, I'll rip your cock off and shove it down your throat."

"Patty means nothing to me," Kurt said.

"Yeah, right," his mother said.

Kurt ran a hand through his hair. What could he do to reassure his mother? He didn't dare try to touch her. Her Libido was throwing off energy like a bonfire emitted heat. That wasn't unusual, but the energy radiating from her took a different form than it usually did. Rather than pulling him towards her, it pushed him away.

"I don't know what I was thinking," he said.

"You weren't, obviously," his mother snapped.

"Guess not."

His mother glowered at him, apparently trying to decide if he was mocking her or not. She must have decided that he wasn't.

"I'm sorry, baby," she said, all of a sudden. "I don't mean to take it out on you."

Kurt hesitated a moment before responding, "It's okay. I understand."

She came and sat on the bed beside him. He hoped that she couldn't tell that this made him nervous. As she laid a hand on his thigh though, a jolt of electricity shot through him and his cock began to stir. That was it. One little touch and it was like there'd never been any fear or anxiety or anything. The tiniest little hint of a possibility of getting intimate with his mother wiped the slate clean.

"You've been so good about everything," she continued, her hand traveling closer and closer to his erect penis. "With me, and with your sister. We're so lucky to have you."

"No more than I am you," he said.

A smile spread across her face before she lowered her head and put a smile on his face.

#

The Hardt family castle was vast and imposing on the outside, but cozy and comfortable on the inside. With a flick of her wrist, Veronica raised the portcullis and strode into the barbican. From the outside, it would appear that she'd have a long way to go from the squat, defensive structure to the main keep. Once inside, however, she kicked off her shoes, climbed a short flight of stairs, and joined her family in the living room.

"Didn't expect you all to still be up," she said. "Or clothed, at any rate."

Her grandfather stood beside the recliner, a tumbler of whisky in his hand. Her mother and grandmother sat on the sofa, drinking tea. There was about as much sexual tension in the air as might be found at a funeral.

"What?" Veronica asked.

"Where's your brother?" Grandma Flori asked politely. Too politely. Like she was making small talk with a friend of the family rather than talking to her granddaughter.

"You guys are freaking me out," Veronica replied.

"Everything's fine, dear," Grandpa Randy said, walking over to her and kissing her on the cheek. "Can I get you something to drink?"

She sighed and said, "Not at the moment, thanks." She went and sat on the couch beside her grandmother. "Nick's...with Patty." That took longer to get out than it should have, but at least the bitterness she felt inside hadn't been reflected in her voice.

"I'm sorry, sweetie," her mother said.

Veronica almost laughed at that. Who was their mother to pretend to feel bad for her? She was as responsible as her sister for the pain and suffering Nick brought her.

Inadvertently, though.

Not for the first time, she forced herself not to blame her mother. As far as Veronica could tell, the woman only had eyes for her own mother. Whatever she felt for Nick, it wasn't anything that Veronica should feel threatened by.

"Was she in one of her moods?" her grandmother asked.

"Worse," Veronica said with a sigh.

She got the message. When Patty got the attention that Veronica selfishly wanted all to herself, it was usually because Nick sensed that she needed cheering up.




Homelands Pt. 06 Ch. 03



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Author's note

As ever, if you have questions feel free to email me or leave a comment. Either way, I'll try to respond in a timely manner.

This is primarily an incest story, but it is also sci-fi/fantasy, and supernatural elements are not incidental to the plot. Additionally, many chapters will feature elements of other categories, particularly group sex and anal.

All sexual acts are consensual and involve parties who are at least eighteen years of age.

########################

Sweat coated Eric from head to toe. With every rapid strike of graceful slice of his sword, he watered the grass below.

The rays of the midday sun were not obstructed by a single cloud. But, then, each and every day in Summer brought warm sun and clear skies. His immortal body had more or less grown accustomed to it. He hardly even felt the heat anymore.

The reason he was drenched in perspiration was that he was pushing himself harder than he ever had before. Most afternoons, Eric worked on building his strength, physically and metaphysically, while improving his swordsmanship. And most afternoons, he pushed himself just a little harder than the day before. But today, he wasn't going for a little harder.

Some immortals were blessed with extraordinary endowments. Even if they didn't work at it, they'd be more powerful than most of the rest of their kind. Eric was not so fortunate. Though he'd inherited more raw power than some of his siblings had, there was still a lot of room for growth. And his mother made sure that he knew that. She seemed to think that he'd one day rival his father. He didn't know if she was right about that, but whatever his potential was, he intended to achieve it. No matter how much suffering it took.

Every time he closed his eyes, he saw it. The look of bliss on her face. The glow of her skin. The steady thrum of her Libido.

True, she hadn't said anything. When he'd asked, she'd simply said that she didn't want to know how things had gone with Nina, so it didn't make sense for her to tell him about Hank. Which was reasonable enough. But her body and her Libido told him what her words had not. Told him that the day when he'd eclipse his father was yet a long ways off.

It did no good to let his jealousy eat him up, though. There was only one thing to do. Channel it constructively. Use it to push him to new heights, so that one day he too could make his mother smile uncontrollably for hours after they'd coupled.

So there he was, floating a dozen feet up off the ground, feet dancing air. He whipped his sword through one stroke after another, moving impossibly fast, muscles burning and screaming in protest.

It might not have been so bad, except that he was doing it while wearing two bodies. And he'd doubled the sword's weight, just for the hell of it. Not to mention the fact that he'd done five laps around the island that morning, in lion form. Lions made great sprinters, but they when it came to distance running, men had the clear biological advantage. Which was why it was so much less interesting to train in that form.

The back door to the villa slid open.

"Eric," his mother called out. "Come inside."

His concentration broken, he fell clean out of the sky. One body landed flat on its back, the other did a belly flop. The instant they hit the ground, the air went out of his lungs and his bodies collapsed back into one breathless, aching form.

It wasn't his first tumble, nor even the most painful. Each and every time he'd eaten dirt, he got right back up in the air and started putting himself through the motions again.

This time, though, he was glad for the excuse to call it a day. Left to his own devices, he'd have kept going. Allowed the session to grow so strenuous that it would ultimately be self-defeating, seeing as he'd end up having to take the day off tomorrow in order to recover. If he let it, the manic determination that had possessed him since he'd rolled out of bed that morning might not consume him, but it would come close. Even trying his best to redirect it in the healthiest way possible.

"Oh, honey, I'm sorry," she said.

"S'okay," Eric grunted as he rose to his feet.

"Yeah?" his mother asked, looking him up and down.

He nodded.

And gave her the same visual inspection she was giving him. Only not out of concern for her wellbeing. Just because he couldn't possibly keep himself from doing so.

She wore a loose blue sundress. It wasn't even close to the most revealing thing she had in her wardrobe, but it had the same effect on him as it might have had if it was.

Fuck, that woman looked good.

"Doesn't look like you're okay," she said, the beginnings of a naughty grin spreading across her face. "In fact, looks like you've got some real swelling going on."

Eric blushed and tucked his erection up into the waistband of his drawstring pants. Then he remembered that he wasn't wearing a shirt, so that didn't exactly offer much by way of propriety. He pushed his cock back into his pants and cooled his Libido.

That was one of the toughest tricks he'd learned, though it didn't take much energy. Of course, neither did making bricks of dry water or drawing square circles. Though he understood that the energy that fueled all of their wondrous powers was not actually sexual energy, it was tempting to think of it that way, given the one tried and true method for harvesting it. Using that energy to suppress one's own sexual appetites was not, strictly speaking, a contradiction in terms. But it sure felt like it.

With that one part of his body under control, he focused on the next step towards making himself presentable. Sweat and dirt and grass fell away from him, carried off on a cool breeze.

"What's up?" he asked his mother.

"Your sister and...brother...are here."

Eric raised an eyebrow. Did Nick do something to upset her?

Then he saw the two figures behind his mother and understood. Patty held the hand of one of the king's inbred sons. The little dragon. Mike, if Eric recalled correctly.

That was interesting.

He wasn't sure how he felt about their new brothers yet. Had hardly spoken to either of them yet. If they'd been raised by Aunt Nina, though, it wouldn't surprise him in the least if they turned out to be ambitious, manipulative, and deceitful.

On the other hand, the fact that Patty was interested in him suggested otherwise. His sister tended to see the best in everyone, even when there wasn't much to be seen. But that wasn't to say that she was a bad judge of character. She'd never brought home a guy that Eric had felt he couldn't leave her alone with. Most of them had been goofy, awkward, and boring as hell. But they hadn't been assholes. That was more Annie's thing.

Perhaps the real concern then wasn't that Mike would prove to be manipulate, but that he was a mama's boy. That he'd do what Kurt did and choose his mother over Patty.

Hell, with that tigress for a mother, it would be hard to blame the kid if he did. Eric didn't like his aunt much personally. Didn't trust her. But it wasn't hard to see how any son of hers might have a hard time letting go of her apron strings.

"Did you guys actually meet?" Patty asked Eric as he stepped inside.

"Think we shook hands," he said, reaching out to do so again.

"You'd remembered if we had," Mike said, without offering his hand.

Eric raised an eyebrow.

"Eric," his mother whispered. She gave him a soft tap on the behind before she closed the sliding glass door that he'd left open.

Mike laughed nervously. "That came out wrong." He looked at Patty apologetically before turning back to Eric. "I've heard that it can be unpleasant to, ah," he rubbed a hand over his forearm. "You know. The scales."

Looking a bit closer, Eric saw the truth of it. Mike's palms, chest, and abs were smooth and silver, the same color as his eyes and the row of spines beginning on his forehead and running down his back. But the rest of him was covered in tiny emerald scales. They couldn't have offered much in the way of protection, but Eric suspected that his brother had been right to say that he'd remember shaking his hand.

"So how do you...," Eric said to his sister. "No, nevermind. None of my business."

Patty blushed and stared at her feet.

"With care," Mike said.

Eric laughed. "I bet."

"Can I get anyone something to eat?" Gabby cut in. "Or drink?"

Mike started to refuse politely but when Eric admitted that he was famished, Patty and Mike said that they could eat. So they went into the kitchen and sat at the booth while Gabby fixed up a round of sandwiches.

"So, did I see two of you out there? Levitating?" Mike asked.

"You could call it that, I guess."

"This one, not so much with the big words," Patty said.

"True," their mother said with a grin.

"So what would you call it?" Mike asked politely.

"Falling," Eric said around a mouthful of food.

Both women giggled at that.

"You're too modest," Mike said, as if he hadn't even noticed. "We should spar sometime. Bet I could learn a lot from you."

Eric put his sandwich down.

Was this kid for real?

He was tempted to tell him to turn the charm down a few notches. But Patty wouldn't appreciate that. And it wouldn't kill him to give the guy a chance to make more of an impression before rushing to judgment. But his ass felt a little cramped, what with Mike trying so hard to crawl up it.

"You'd be better off asking your father," Eric said. "Our father," he corrected himself. "Unless you've already learned everything he has to teach?"

Mike's silver eyes widened for a moment. Then he looked down, as if just remembering what he looked like. "Because of this? He didn't teach me that. It just sort of happened."

"I see," Eric said. "How Oedipal."

"Eric!" Patty said, throwing a tomato at him.

Their brother only chuckled. "It's fine. I figured he'd think that," he said to Patty. Then, to Eric, he added, "Sometimes, I think my parents think so too." He shrugged. "Obviously it's my subconscious expressing itself in some way. But I don't think it's about me wanting to be his replacement so much as my sense that everyone expects me to. I've never been good about putting what I want ahead of what others want from me."

Right. So mama's boy it was.

"It was harder for Troy," he continued. "I didn't change until after Mom told us who we were. For him, it came with puberty."

Eric's eyes went wide.

"You mean, he was white as a kid?" Gabby asked.

"Yup," Mike said.

"Didn't people...ask questions?"

"We'd just moved to a new town," Mike said. "That was probably what did it, in fact. Though he'll never tell you that."

"What do you mean?" Eric asked.

Mike shrugged. "It's a form of rebellion. Not so different from the rich white girls whose daddies tried to make up for never being around by giving them sports cars for their sixteenth birthdays. God, those girls loved Troy," he said with a laugh. "Not that I'd have wanted to be in his shoes," he added, noticing the way Patty glowered at him. After clearing his throat, he continued. "He likes to say it's an expression of who he really is inside, but if so, he's a nothing more than a collection of bad stereotypes. I'd hate to see what would happen if he ever spent any time with real black folk."

"Bet they'd kick his ass," Eric said.

Patty shot him a disapproving glare.

"Maybe," Mike said, a bit defensively. "Maybe not. I don't see the need to assume black men are violent thugs."

"I didn't mean-"

"Anyway," his brother continued, "who cares. I'm not interested in arguing about race. All I'm trying to say is, I'd give my left nut to shift all the expectations they put on me onto Troy. To let him be the favorite child. God knows he wouldn't complain about that."

Both Patty and their mother gave Eric meaningful looks, willing him to apologize.

Did they not notice that he'd just tried doing that?

"That sucks, man," Eric said.

Mike snickered. "Yeah. That it does."

He really wished Troy was their mother's favorite? Eric chewed on that as he did the same with the remains of his sandwich. So much for the mama's boy theory. Nor was he a bad boy crying out for attention or an alpha trying to break out of his father's shadow. Just what sort of guy was he, then?

"So you're not preparing to take over for your father?" Eric asked, though he knew what the answer would be.

"Nah, just wanted to spar with you 'cause I thought it'd be fun," he said. "From what I hear, you'd make a better successor anyway."

"Don't know about that," Eric said, trying to ignore the look his mother gave him.

"Besides, it's not like taking over the family business in the mortal world," Mike said. "Sorry, Playground."

"Takes a while to get used to that one," Patty said, wrapping an arm around his.

"Not like he's going to get old and have to retire," Mike continued. "Far as I can tell, he's liable to still be sitting on that damn throne a thousand years from now."

Eric could almost hear the "Since it's all he seems to care about" his brother hadn't tacked on to the end of that sentence.

"That's perhaps a little bit of an exaggeration," Eric's mother said.

"Probably," Mike agreed. "Myself, I'd be content to life a quiet kind of life, with a kind-hearted wife." With that last, he stared into Patty's eyes.

They were not talking that kind of talk already, were they?

For fuck's sake.

Patty smiled demurely back at the romantic sap, oblivious to the shocked looks on both Eric's face and their mother's. What the hell was she thinking?

And did she know his fucking skin was green and scaly?!

"You know our kind don't really get married," Gabby said tentatively, eyes on Eric as much as Patty. "Except when we want to have children."

"I know," Patty said.

Eric's throat went tight. He snatched up the glass of soda he'd been drinking. By the time it reached his lips, it was a strong beer.

"That's kinda why I wanted to stop by," Patty said, staring at her half-finished lunch.

"To ask for our blessing?" their mother asked.

She nodded.

What did she mean "stopped by" anyway? So long as she was a Moody, the villa was as much her home as it was theirs.

Eric stared at his mother, silently imploring her to give him a reason why he shouldn't talk some sense into Patty, since she herself evidently wasn't going to do so. But she gently shook his head at him. In case he might have somehow missed the message thus conveyed, she placed a hand atop his thigh, just above the knee.

Fucking madness.

He turned to regard his sister.

And saw the fear in her eyes. The pleading. "Don't take this away from me," she might as well have said. "You've got Mom. Nick's got Veronica. Annie's got our father. What about me? Where's my happy ending?"

Not a word was said aloud, but Eric got the point.

"We're rushing into things," Mike said.

Every looked around nervously, as if he'd pointed out that the emperor had no clothes.

"But sometimes, you just know," he added, wrapping an arm around Patty. `

Well, at least they weren't thinking about it the same way every other couple who got married too soon, too young, did. These two knew. That meant it would work out, right?

But Eric held his tongue.

"So?' Do we have it?" Patty asked. "Your blessing?"

"Of course you do, sweetie," their mother replied without hesitation.

#

"Morning, jerkface," Veronica said to Nick as she walked back into her room wearing one towel around her body and drying her hair with another.

Of course, it wasn't morning at all. But if he wanted to draw attention to the fact that she'd slept a whole later than she usually did, she'd have been glad to explain to him what had kept her up all night. Perhaps she could even point out some of the ways in which their grandfather put him to shame.

"Trust you...slept...well last night?" she added.

With that, she all but dared him to ask her about her own nocturnal activities. To point out that he wasn't the only one who'd spent the night in the arms of another. And wouldn't he just love to know how sorry she wasn't about that?

However, her brother didn't take the bait.

Of course he didn't.

In typical Nick fashion, he did the exact opposite and hung his head in shame. Or maybe it was defeat. In fact, for a moment, he looked as though he might even vacate the room. Just get up and walk away, without speaking another word. God, that would have been the very last thing he should do, if he wanted to keep this going. Whatever "this" was.

Didn't the asshole realize why she was so upset?

Perhaps he did, at that. To his credit, he neither retreated, nor went down the path towards which she'd tried to steer him. Instead, in a perfectly sweet tone of voice, he said, "I was thinking we'd go into the city today."

Veronica nearly dropped the towel from her head.

Was he really suggesting that they spend the day together? Here she was, taunting him, trying to get him to feel guilty about his infidelity and jealous of her own, if you could call it infidelity, and this was how he responded?

"What city?" she asked.

"LA," he said. "You know, go back to the Playground. Maybe spend the night."

"And why would we do that?" she asked, her heart racing.

She already had her answer, of course. Veronica wanted nothing more than to spend some time alone with her brother. That was more or less what this was all about, after all. And knowing that every other woman in his life would literally be a world away would make it that much better. She might even be able to forget about them, for a time.

But he deserved to squirm a little first.

She couldn't just give in like that. He might get the impression that she hadn't been all that upset in the first place. The last thing she wanted to do was to reinforce the impression that her moods came and went in the blink of an eye.

"To get away," he said.

Was that all she got? After he was off to such a good start?

He had to be kidding.

Veronica responded with a bemused snort. Turning her back to her brother, she went and stood before the standing mirror. All her attention turned to working the towel through her damp locks, as if her brother wasn't even there.

"I want to share something with you," he said as he slipped off the bed and came up behind her. He took the towel from her hands and took over the task of drying her hair.

Veronica tried not to let that melt the wall of ice she'd thrown up. Refused to think to herself that the warmth of his body, so perilously close to hers, was intoxicating. That there were few pleasures in life as sublime as having her brother play with her hair.

"And what would that be?" she asked, trying to sound disinterested.

"It's a surprise."

Now, that was just fighting dirty. He knew she loved surprises.

"Where's this sudden turn towards the romantic coming from?"

Nick kissed her hair, sending shivers down her spine. He lingered afterwards, smelling her shampoo. Guys never paid attention to how a girl's hair looked or smelled. Not the way Nick did. All they ever did was stare at her boobs.

Not that she minded when her girls got some attention from her brother, mind.

But it was nice to know that he appreciated other things about her.

Every now and then, just to test him, she'd switch up her shampoo. He never failed to notice, though. Not once. If she shortened her hair by so much as an inch, changed its color to a very similar hue, he'd notice that too. He knew what perfume she wore, which colors of lipstick looked best on her, and which ones she liked even though they didn't.

Yet, it was too easy to read something more into that. Something that wasn't there. Veronica wanted desperately to believe that her brother was hyper-attentive to such things because she was special in his eyes, when the uncomfortable truth was that Nick just had a freakish gift for noticing the little things.




Homelands Pt. 06 Ch. 03



Suppose their mother wore her hair a little differently one day? Put on a different shade of eyeshadow than she usually wore? Or that Patty did so?

"The heart," he said, in answer to her question.

Veronica snickered.

"Too much?"

She mimed sticking her fingers down her throat.

"Okay, okay," he said, grinning.

Yes, grinning. The cute, dimpled bastard. Didn't he even have the good sense to know that she was mocking him?

He gave her a peck on the cheek before saying, "I guess I just realized that I haven't been paying enough attention to you lately. I want to make sure you know how important you are to me. How glad I am that I get to share my life with you."

Her breaths came quick and shallow, and it was a struggle to keep her mask on. Not that it would even matter, as he'd no doubt noticed the way her Libido has responded.

That last bit came awfully close to being over the top. But it hadn't quite crossed the line. In fact, if she'd written him a damn script, his words couldn't have been more perfect.

"So what's the surprise?" she asked. As she did, she twisted about and gave one hip a sharp jerk, shoving a toweled butt cheek into her brother's crotch.

"Mmm," he said. "Don't tempt me."

"With what?" she asked.

"It's a surprise," he said.

"Your temptation?"

"No, the surprise," he said. "That's why I called it `a surprise', strangely enough."

"Pithy."

He kissed her hair again, then tossed aside the towel. The wrong one.

With a snap of his fingers, her hair was not only dry, but styled just the way she liked it.

"How do you know I wasn't going to wear it differently today?"

"You weren't," he said, kissing her shoulder.

"I might have."

Ignoring her response, he slowly eased the other towel away.

In spite of herself, Veronica gasped. At least she managed to resist the instinctive urge to cover herself up with her hands.

They stared into the mirror together, he at her body and she at her brother's eyes. The raw hunger there hardened her nipples and dampened her vulva.

At that point, if he'd changed his mind about going into the city, proposed spending the day in bed instead, she'd not have refused.

But he didn't. He left a trail of kisses down her back, then stood back up and snapped his fingers again. With that, a few more steps in her "get ready to meet the world" ritual became unnecessary.

Veronica found herself wearing a touch less makeup than she usually did, a tight black tank top with a silver vest over it, and a denim skirt. The black pumps with silver bows tied everything together perfectly.

"Those shoes are hideous," she said. "Whoever trained you did a terrible job."

"Lies," he said.

"And if this vest was any tighter, my ribcage would cave in."

He slid his hands up the rough fabric of the vest, til his hands came to rest over her breasts. Even with a padded bra, tank top, and thick vest between his hands and her nipples, her brother had to sense how hard they were.

"Think we found the real problem," he said.

Veronica jabbed an elbow in her brother's ribs. But she hardly put any effort into it.

He recoiled for a moment, grinning as he did, then pulled back against her. His hands squeezed her boobs like pillows. He buried his face in her neck and she very nearly climaxed.

Then, without warning, he stepped back.

She almost toppled over backwards. Might have, if she was wearing real heels. As it was, she barely regained her balance.

"Clit-tease," Veronica muttered under her breath.

She pulled herself back together, pretending that she hadn't for even a moment been anything less than graceful. Then she strutted towards her brother like a model who owned the runway. Taking the collar of his silk shirt in her hands, she pulled Nick in for a kiss.

He kissed her back.

Gently, at first. Then with more and more hunger. His lips nibbled at hers and his tongue danced in her mouth. Meanwhile, his hands gripped her neck and ass tight.

Just as she was sure that they'd end up in bed, he pulled away. Again. The bastard.

"We should get going," he said. "Even with the time differential, can't be gone too long."

"Why not?"

"Got to go talk to Annie tonight," Nick replied. "You and me."

"We do, huh?"

"You prefer I go alone?" he asked, presumably as a rhetorical question.

"No," she said, with a sigh, "but play your cards right and I might let you go alone."

She didn't like it, but Annie would probably be more talkative with Nick seducing her than the two of them questioning her.

#

As they moved the party outside, Patty found herself so nervous that she could barely walk. It probably didn't help that she'd traded her sandals, jeans, and cropped top for heels and lingerie. But it was mostly the nerves.

She looked too good in the lingerie for her to consider the change a mistake. The lacy white chemise clung to her curves and was thin enough that you could see her pink panties through it. Her white thigh highs had pink bands at the top, and her suede pink pumps were absolutely fabulous. Eric had stared his eyes out when she'd slipped out of the booth.

Her little stumble might have undermined the effect, but she suspected her brother's mind was still deep in the gutter, where she wanted it. Otherwise, he'd be running all the various arguments for why she shouldn't be rushing things with Mike through his mind.

Not that there wasn't a lengthy list of perfectly valid reasons. Patty was aware of that. She just had a feeling that things would work out. That she'd finally found the guy for her.

Her new brother made her feel the way no other guy ever had. He was sweet and kind and modest, yet powerful, confident, and exotic. He didn't talk down to her, or to anyone else. Yet she knew that he had it in him the play the same game the others played, if he so desired. He wasn't opting out of the struggle for power because he feared that he'd do poorly at it, but because he genuinely didn't want it. Didn't want anything besides her.

If Eric was thinking straight, and hadn't caught the warning shots their mother had fired across his bow, he'd tell Patty that it could be an illusion. That Mike was pretending to be exactly who she wanted him to be just to get her to fall for him. And, if they were there, Veronica and Nick would agree. Veronica because she'd see it the same way, and Nick because he always agreed with Veronica.

It wasn't that Patty couldn't understand why they might think that. She just knew that they were wrong. Though she lacked Nick's enviable talent for reading Libidos, she wasn't entirely helpless on that front herself. And she found no red flags when she was with Mike. Not like she had with Kurt. It wasn't that she wanted this to be real so bad that she was ignoring what was right in front of her face. The warning signs really weren't there.

If Eric couldn't see that, then best he focus on something else.

That wasn't the only reason she wanted this, though. Later, they'd tell their father and Mike's mother that they intended to return to the Playground and start a family. Assuming those two were as willing to bite their tongues as Eric and her mother were, which Mike assured Patty they would be, that meant that her father would really be the one to give her away. But, in her mind, that was her overprotective brother's job, not her absent father's. And there was only one way for her brother to give her away.

Oh, and it was important for her mother to welcome Mike to the family too. But whatever. That wasn't what concerned Patty. Not just at the moment anyway.

After they got a dozen paces or so out into the backyard, with the pool and raised deck off to their side, Eric snapped his fingers, conjuring a chaise lounge. Then he abruptly turned to face Patty. His blue eyes bore deep into her. There wasn't so much as a hint of emotion on his face. He just stared at her intently, face utterly impassive.

"Eric," she said, pressing her little hands against his broad chest.

Out of the corner of her eye, Patty saw Mike hesitantly leaning down to kiss her mother.

Why wasn't this easier? Why did her stomach feel tied all in knots and her throat tight? It wasn't like she'd never had sex with Eric before. He wasn't usually as gentle as Nick tended to be, but never before had he scared her.

Not that she was scared even now. Just really anxious. So anxious that she might vomit.

If only he would do something. Say something. Adopt a damned facial expression of some kind. Anything to let her knew how he was feeling or what he was thinking.

Mike had now shed his draconic appearance. His skin turned smooth and, by the standards of Summer, fair. Where a bald pate and silvery spines had been, there was now rich brown hair. He was tall, lean, and handsome. Just like he had been when Patty had taken him inside her the first time.

"When did my kid sister grow up?" Eric finally asked.

"Stop," she said.

Boy, nothing got her juices flowing like being reminded of how childlike everyone thought she was. Powerfully arousing, that.

"I hope he knows that if he hurts you, I'll become Eric the dragonslayer."

"He won't," Patty replied.

Her brother pushed a stray ringlet back from her shoulder. "Does he know what you like? That you're not the sweet, innocent, little flower that everyone thinks you are?"

Patty's blood starting pumping faster.

Eric's voice dropped lower. "I bought for a long time myself," he said. "But I've noticed how you get all worked up when I fuck you like an animal."

"You think so, huh?" she asked.

Not that she thought she was fooling anyone. If he couldn't sense the response in her Libido, he had to at least have noticed her chest rising and falling rapidly or how her pupils had dilated. With just a few words, her brother had lit a fire deep within her.

He leaned in as if to nibble at her ear, his breath warm against her skin. She shuddered in anticipation. The longer his lips failed to make contact with her body, the more pressure she felt building up within her. Her whole body tingled.

"You're not the only one people force into a little box," he whispered. "I'm going to show you a side of me you haven't seen before."

That would have to be something of an exaggeration. Since returning from the Eternal Garden, she'd seen more than a few signs of her brother's evolution. That their mother had made a well-rounded lover out of him. He was still wild and passionate most of the time, but he had acquired a measure of control and finesse that he'd once lacked. If the surprise was going to come in the form of him seducing her slowly, tenderly, affectionately, well, that would be something of a first, but it wouldn't be entirely without precedent.

At least, that's what she thought when he first said it.

Within a few minutes, Patty realized that her brother had been right. She'd really had no idea just what a treat she was in for.

"Oooh, yeah, yeah, just like that," she panted as Eric licked her little lady.

He brought her to the edge then backed away. His cool eyes met hers for a few long moments then he went right back to it. He held her thick legs in his hands while his mouth and tongue worked their magic. To judge by the way he held her, his fingers never still, and the frequency with which he turned to one side or the other so that he could kiss her thighs, she could almost believe he liked her legs. In fact, he seemed to be enjoying himself all around. He wasn't on a quest, or racing towards a destination. He was teasing and playful, and he frequently smiled up at her, laughing.

Patty had rarely felt so comfortable with a man between her legs. Veronica had long been able to put her at ease like that, but few men could. Even Nick, talented as he was, sometimes gave her the impression that he was showing off more so than actually enjoying himself. That boy knew how to work his tongue and fingers. But, of late, Patty felt an emotional distance with him that kept her from enjoying his ministrations fully.

"God, that's good," she told her brother, raking her nails through his luxuriant hair.

At least, what she said probably sounded a lot like that. There were enough shudders in there, causing her voice to vibrate, that it might have been somewhat incoherent.

Once Eric's fingers joined the party, she knew it wouldn't be long before she exploded, and that her climax would be really intense. He went slow with them at first, but she was so into it already that he didn't need to waste his time with a slow build. And he seemed to sense that. Shortly after the two digits slipped inside her, they were at war with her G-spot. The steady tap-tap-tap against her sensitive, spongy flesh was excruciatingly pleasurable.

Ejaculate sprayed out from between her legs. Eric raised his mouth up from her clit, but his fingers kept working. He smiled at her as he kept up the puppeteer act.

Patty howled and threw her head back on the lush cushion of the lounge chair. Her legs spasmed and her hand twitched as the orgasm overtook her. The conscious, thinking, worrying, insecure part of her took a back seat, and her body went on autopilot.

The entirety of Patty's existence was ecstasy. Sweet release.

Eventually, her senses returned to her, and she found her breath again. She smiled up at her brother, who knelt at the foot of the lounge chair, watching her. That was when she was supposed to tell him how good it had been. But she couldn't. Her limbs were jelly, her tongue lead. All she could do was smile.

"Didn't give you an overdose, did I?" he asked, shaking a big toe with two of his fingers.

"Still among the living," she said after a fashion.

"Good," Eric said. "Cause I'm not done with you."

"You are if I say you are," Patty replied.

"Do you?" he asked, an eyebrow raised.

A naughty grin spread across Patty's face. She spread her legs open and reached down to rub her vulva with the palm of her hands. "She's telling me `no'."

Her brother purred like a jungle cat before crawling atop her.

Having proven his point earlier, Eric dropped the slow and seductive act. He fucked Patty as thoroughly as he ever had, that fat cock of his sliding in and out of her tight pussy faster and harder than made any damned sense. His hands ripped her chemise away and groped at her breasts. Or one would reach down and lifted her hips up off the leather so the other could fondle her ass. He fucked her missionary then doggy, then flipped her on her back again and pressed her knees up to her chest. Her gorgeous brother fucked her fast, he fucked her hard, and he fucked her good.

At one point, he grew a second dick and fucked her pussy and her ass at the same time. That had been more intense, in the best possible way, than she could have imagined. Nothing like having two guys at the same time. The few times she'd done that, the guy on the bottom would keep still while the other one did all the work, and both would be deathly afraid of coming into contact with one another. Both rods attached to the same body, they slid in and out of her holes at the same time, and with equal force. It was wonderful.

Patty did most of the cumming. But in the end, Eric filled her holes up what good.

#

"It's not just me, right?" Mike asked as he stepped back from her.

Gabriela ran a hand lightly over his lightly tanned forearm. "No, sweetie."

"Am I doing something wrong?" he asked.

"No," she said again.

It wasn't what he was doing so much as who he was. Who his mother was. She didn't love the idea of Patty entering into a mortal marriage with a guy she barely knew, but she'd have had an easier time with it if he'd been any other woman's daughter.

She wanted to so badly not to care. Had been proud of herself when she'd kept Eric from voicing his objections. But now that the boy wanted her to welcome him into the family by welcoming him into her body, she was finding it a little harder to be such an understanding and accepting future mother.

Would he give her green-skinned, scaly grandchildren?

No, of course not. It wasn't genetic. It was supernatural. He looked that way because he saw himself that way, and he was powerful enough that his body rearranged itself to match his self-image whether he willed it to or not. And that he indeed would pass on to whatever children he and Patty had. The two of them were related by blood. Only on their father's side, but even so, their children would be inbreds.

Purebreds, to use a more appropriate term.

Each generation of purebreds was stronger than the one before it, Hank had told her. Any children Patty had with a man who shared the same father would be powerful to begin with. That her children's father would himself be a purebred would only further ensure that they'd be exceptionally gifted in the supernatural department.

Gabriela tried to focus on that. To see the beautiful, powerful, good-hearted children he'd give Patty. And tried not to think of the fact that they'd be more Fisher than Moody. Perhaps that would only be true in a technical sense. He didn't seem to have much of his mother or father in him, save for their unflappable temperament. Patty could do worse than to settle down with a guy who'd never lose his temper.

"We don't have to," Mike said.

"You don't want to?" she asked.

His eyes roamed over her body, and she caught the glimmer of silver in his eyes. Those cool irises had a distinct metallic quality to them, but they were almost colorless. So different from his father's emerald orbs.

Yet not so unlike her late brother's gray beauties.

Come to think of it, that was hardly the only similarity between Mike and Wes. Both were black sheep, in a sense. Her brother had been so unlike House Moody's other scions. And Mike was on the fast track to disappointing House Fisher. She could imagine that Mike, like Wes, was the kind of guy whose heart rarely pointed him in the wrong direction, yet who was capable of making decisions in a cool, detached manner when necessary.

If Mike was who he seemed to be, her daughter could do a lot worse.

By the time the lusty grin spread across the boy's face, Gabriela had already changed her mind. She took a step forward, and he swept her up in his lean, hard arms. They were surprisingly strong for how wiry they were. He lifted Gabriela off the ground as though she weighed nothing at all before pressing his lips to hers.

He wasn't necessarily the best kisser she'd ever come across. Or needed to work on making a better first impression. But he was young yet. Newly initiated. If Patty knew what she was doing, she could mold him and shape however she wanted.

"Why don't you just sit back and let me do my thing?" she asked the youth.

Before he could respond, she conjured up a chair, pressed two fingers against his breastbone, and shoved him into it. He landed with an "Oof!" but otherwise offered no objection.

Slowly, tantalizingly, Gabriela stripped for him. It wasn't quite a lap dance. She didn't grind up against him enough. But she had his undivided attention, that was for sure. By the time she dropped the sundress to the grass, his eyes looked like silver saucers and his pants were working under conditions they hadn't agreed to when they'd taken the job. His cheeks were a little flushed and his knuckles white. The poor kid.

Any other man in his position would have tried to cop a feel. Would have at least run a hand over her thighs, even if he didn't grope her tits and ass.

Not Hank and Nina's son. Whatever else he might or might not have inherited from them, he had their self-control. That was a quality no Moody would ever exhibit.

She made a challenge of it. Her ass danced nearer and nearer his crotch. There was just enough space for his hands to slip in and take hold of her smooth flesh. Yet they remained by his side. So then Gabriela shook her breasts in his face. Again, he simply sat there, fascinated but immobile. Even after she unhooked the bra, turned around, and wiggled her shoulders at him, he still didn't take the hint.




Homelands Pt. 06 Ch. 03



It was tempting to take offense at that. But Gabriela chose to read it as a sign that he would not easily be tempted into betraying Patty.

By the time she was naked and had started in on his clothes, Mike was breathing heavy. His skin was starting to change color, and slight protrusions peaked through his mop of brown hair. Still, he behaved himself. His impression of a statue necessarily came to and end when she tried to slip his shirt up over his head, but aside from helping her undress him, he did exactly as she'd told him. He sat back and let her do her thing.

At first, she'd been irritated by it. But, increasingly, his uncanny discipline was turning her on. This was a man who wouldn't stray, yes, but he'd also be next to impossible for Patty to wrap around her finger. With most men, all it took to get your way was to threaten to withhold sex if he didn't give in, or promise extra special treats if he did, or both. That wouldn't work so well with this one. He'd have Patty doing his bidding as often as not, if Gabriela had to guess. Which was good, in a way. As much fun as it could be to make a guy wait on you hand and foot, it was hard to really respect such men.

It was almost like he'd done a mind trick on her. She'd been hoping to make him lose control, to feel the need to reach out and grab her. Instead, he was slowly chipping away at her own resistance. If only for the sake of dignity, she'd have to draw it out at least a little bit longer. But that young, hard cock of his would be inside her mouth soon.

His penis didn't fit inside his boxers. Like the rest of him, it had turned green. But it was smooth. No scales. And it was long and thick. The bulbous head and narrow tip reminded her of a dragon tail. One that had been affixed to the wrong side of his body.

"Sorry," he said. "Kinda lost control there for a second."

Gabriela almost laughed. Was that "losing control" in his mind?

"Probably freaked you out," he said, forcing his skin to return to a more conventional hue. The mini spines retreated back within his head. His nose, which she hadn't even noticed had begun to look more reptilian, reverted to a mortal shape.

"Not really," Gabriela said.

Admitting that aloud made her tingle between her legs.

"I think it's kinda hot, actually."

Mike smile at her, and the green returned. He didn't let himself go so far that scales and claws and fangs appeared, but his body became a deep emerald, save for his silvery "underside." His hair got shorter but didn't disappear entirely, and the spines filled out but didn't reach the awesome length they'd been earlier.

Gabriela's heart beat faster and faster. She was about to have sex with a mythical beast. The stuff of legends. That his transformation was modest and that he wasn't actually a dragon mattered not at all. She'd still feel as though she'd joined an elite club. Done what few other women could claim to have done. She wouldn't even let it bother her that one of the other women who belonged to that small sorority was her daughter.

She dropped to her knees and ran her hands up his strong thighs and over his sculpted abs. The smooth feel of his skin surprised her. She knew that there were no scales awaiting her. Not currently. But her body had expected to feel them all the same.

He stared down at her and tucked a lock of her hair behind one of her ears.

That took her breath away. It was such a small little gesture. But it was the first time his hands had touched her since she'd pushed him back into the chair.

"My father is a fool," he said.

Her heart nearly stopped.

"Any man who would leave you deserves to be alone for the rest of eternity."

"You don't have to say that," she heard herself say, as if from a distance. His words and hers alike echoed in her mind, growing fainter and fainter with each repetition.

"It's true," he said.

"Your mother is a beautiful woman," Gabriela said. "Not to mention his sister. That's a special bond, as you're no doubt discovering."

"Patty is special," he said. "Because she's Patty. Not because we share a father." He licked his lips. His tongue wasn't quite forked, but it wasn't quite shaped like a man's either. There were two modest little nubbins on the end of it. She could only imagine what he could do with those. "Part of what makes her so special, aside from who she is inside, is how sexy she is. And she gets that from you."

Gabriela didn't know whether to swoon or to cry bullshit. His words were simply too good to be true. She could feel herself falling under his spell, and it scared her.

But it excited her too. More than a little.

"My mother looks like the modeling industry's patron goddess. But you? You look more like a fertility goddess. Like a real woman, rather than a department store mannequin with eyes. It's House Moody that gave Patty her delicious curves, not my father."

"Shut up," Gabriela said.

She gasped and covered her mouth.

"I...I'm sorry," he said. His hand returned to his side.

"No, no, I'm sorry," she said. "It's just that...Mike, if you turn out to be a fake, I'm going to kill you, bring you back to life, then kill you again."

He chuckled nervously then let out a sigh of relief. "I get that you're worried about her. I would be too, in your shoes. If you weren't, I'd consider that a red flag."

"Kid, you are smooth."

Leaning forward, he kissed her on the forehead. "What I am," he whispered, "is in love."

Gabriela rose to her feet. She decided she didn't have the patience for foreplay. She needed to get off. Badly. If the boy felt cheated because he wasn't going to get the blowjob she'd implicitly promised him, that was just too damn bad. Seeing as he was Mister Perfect, he obviously wouldn't hold it against her.

As she straddled his hips, she guided his rough hands up to her heavy breasts. His silver eyes said they wanted to be there, but apparently he thought he had to wait for a written invitation. Once in place, though, they weren't shy. He fondled her breasts and teased her puffy nipples the way her own son would have.

While Mike played with her girls, Gabriela slowly settled down onto his stiff, green pole. Oddly colored though it might be, it sure felt like a dick. A nice, big, stiff one. He wasn't as big as Eric, but he was hardly modest in size either. And his bulbous head spread her open wide before his shaft slipped inside, the way Jennifer's son always did.

"Oh, that feels good," she moaned into the young boy's ear. Then she gave the modest little lobe a little lick. His ears, like everything else about him, were exotic. And getting more exotic by the minute. They were long and pointy at the tip. "Are you going to breathe your fire into me?"

One hand left her chest and gave her fat ass a firm slap. Gabriela whimpered at that, as much from the surprise as anything.

"Again," she whispered.

So he did.

"Mmm, that's it," she said. "Don't be shy."

The lips that sought hers out were hard and thin. As she ran her hands over his sinewy arms and shoulders, she found the scales she'd been waiting for. They didn't hurt her hands though. Just took her by surprise. Turned out, if she went with the grain, she hardly even noticed them. It was only when she reversed course that they scratched at her palms.

Pulling back from their kiss, she saw his nose was more akin to a snout. His eyebrows and eyelashes were gone, as was the hair atop his head.

The glistening silver spines took her breath away. They were terrifying and majestic at the same time. They seemed so symbolic. Of strength, and virility.

"You're beautiful," she said.

The only response that got from him was a sudden increase in ferocity. He grabbed her hips tightly and started thrusting up into her with a strength and speed she hadn't anticipated. His hard cock filled her up right, and its smooth shaft slid along the underside of her G-spot again and again and again, guiding her inexorably towards climax.

Even hotter than the feel of his young cock inside her hungry womb, though, was the perversion of it all. Some little piece of her remembered what it was like to believe she was mortal well enough to feel a rush of guilt at the thought that she was fucking her future son. That the father of Patty's children, the man who would give her grandchildren, was inside her now, where at any moment he could give her a gift that she could turn into children of her own, if she so desired. But it wasn't just that she was banging Patty's future husband. Worse than that, he wasn't even human. Of course, in a sense, none of them were. They were something more. Immortal. But he didn't look human either. He looked like he belonged in one of Veronica's fantasy novels or something.

When a pair of leathery wings suddenly sprouted from his back, it didn't surprise Gabriela in the least. They were emerald green, like the rest of him, save for the inner part of the membranes, were they were a glittering silver. Gabriela almost expected him to carry them up into the sky, but he simply stretched his wings wide, gave them a few furtive flaps, then closed them again. They looked too feeble to hold the weight of them both anyway.

"You can scratch, if you need to," she said. "Just take it easy."

Apparently, though, he'd reached the limit of how wild he was willing to get. Gabriela was mostly relieved by that, but there was some part of her that was disappointed as well.

Soon enough, she decided to try to get a rise out of him. Bit his neck, tweaked his nipples, and slammed down on him hard enough that his thighs had to be getting sore. In response, he groped her more vigorously and gave her ass some delicious slaps, but that was it.

No claws.

When she started biting harder and pinching his nipples more forcefully than she'd even want her own pinched, he finally reacted. But not by drawing blood. He rose up from the chair and, when she spilled off of him, spun her around and forced her down to all fours.

"That's it," she told her future son. "Make me yours."

With a guttural sound that began as a growl and grew into an ear-piercing shriek, her little dragon did just that. The hands gripping her shoulders felt inhuman, and when his thighs bumped into hers, they too felt unnatural. But his smooth, hard cock felt exactly the way a cock should. And he was giving it to her like a beast.

It was so good, Gabriela let herself go completely. She stopped trying to provoke him and tease him and guide him and simply let him have his way.

Her Libido went crazy. Images of the beautiful children he'd give Patty filled her head. Why had she been worried about that? Their offspring would be strong and happy.

Not as strong as the children she and Eric would soon have. But that was a high bar to cross. The fruits of their lovemaking would be proud and brave and beautiful.

All those thoughts of reproducing had Gabriela feeling hornier than ever. She was like a bitch in heat. Her womb needed to be filled with the warm jizz of a strong man.

That was when she heard a lion's roar.

Like he knew what she was thinking. Knew that she was in heat.

Gabriela looked over her shoulder and smiled to herself as she saw Eric walking slowly towards them. His movements were slow, menacing, and possessed of a feline grace. His legs were double-jointed and covered in golden fur. As was the tip of the tail that lashed behind him. From the waist to the neck, he looked like a man. The only exceptions were that his chest hair had thickened and turned white and his hands had been replaced by oversized paws. His face was also somewhere in between that of a man's and lion's. He had whiskers, a black nose, and a beautiful golden mane that reached past his collarbone, but her son's handsome face was still recognizable beneath all that.

He looked so strong, so feral, so wild.

"She's mine," Eric snarled.

There was something so very primal about her son displaying his dominance, asserting his ownership of her. She nearly came right then and there. But when Mike's penis slipped out of her, that ship was dashed to bits on the rocks.

"There's enough to go around," she said meekly.

She was Eric's. Now and forever. It was only right and proper that he should claim her as his own. But she wasn't quite done welcoming Mike into the family.

It was only then that Gabriela noticed that Patty was sitting on the lounge chair Eric had summoned, looking strung out on heroin. Her daughter's glassy eyes followed their movements, but no expression showed on her face.

"Not yet," Eric said. "I want you to myself for a while first."

"Okay," Mike said, raising his hands in submission.

Gabriela almost insisted that it wasn't up to them, it was up to her. But she couldn't bring herself to argue with her son. The part of her that had once been a modern housewife resented his macho behavior. But another part of her find it all incredibly flattering. That wild look in his eyes awakened her baser instincts.

Worked up as she was, she didn't last long. Thankfully though, her orgasm didn't leave her so drained that she couldn't keep going. Eric had taken a lot out of her, probably without even trying to do so, but she had enough left for some more fun.

Even if she hadn't, she might have said that she did. She was not about to pass up the opportunity to be sandwiched between those two studs.

Eric sat in the chair and Gabriela mounted him cowgirl. His hard cock felt like a drug. Though she'd just gotten her fix, still she wanted more and more and more.

Then Mike came up from behind and slowly worked his fat dick into her ass, pushing past her sphincter ever so slowly and delicately, though not nervously. He knew what he was doing, and had no fear of compromising his sexuality by getting too close to his brother.

In time, they all got nice and comfortable. Gabriela especially.

She then began using her two meat poles to go for the ride of a lifetime. The intense stimulation threatened to overwhelm her. To erase her memories and her sense of self, leaving nothing but a keen awareness of pleasures deeper and more powerful than any woman could resist. She was so full. So connected to her two lovers. For a time at least, there was but one entity, albeit one with three heads and three hearts.

Time slipped away from her. She had no idea how long she spent bouncing on those two beautiful cocks. How long their insistent hands groped at her body, their hungry mouths kissed at whatever part of her they could reach. Nor could she have said how many times she got off. They must have climaxed a few more times than she had, though, because she soon found herself riding high above the ground, drifting through a spiritual plane, all but disconnected from her corporeal existence. Her body might have been exhausted, but her Libido was full to overflowing with potent energy.

She hardly even remembered them filling her up with their seed. All she knew for a certainty was that when it was over, she was as thoroughly satiated as she'd ever been.

So, of course, she nearly died of happiness when Eric laid down in the grass beside her and whispered, "Now seems like a good time."

"For what?" she asked, as if she didn't know.

This was it. Her dreams were finally coming true. The moment she'd waited for lo these many years had at last arrived.

Her son gave her a naughty grin.

The resemblance to a lion was gone. He was just Eric now. Her beautiful son, with his gorgeous face, divine body, and magical cock. On the outside, he looked exactly as he had when she'd first initiated him. But he'd changed so much since then.

"Really?" she asked, so desperate for the right answer that she thought she might faint.

If he was talking about something else, she'd disown him. Castrate him. Boil his carcass in a soup and feed it to a pack of wild dogs.

Her son draped a hand over her midsection. "I want to see you swell with our child."

She couldn't even bring herself to reply. It was hard enough to keep breathing.

On some level, she knew this day was coming. From the moment she'd initiated him, perhaps even before, she'd known that one day her son would put another child inside her. She'd only just gotten permission from Hank the night before though. It was only then that it became real to her. And she hadn't actually asked Eric how he felt about it yet.

"You've always been the best mother in the world. I want to see what that looks like from the other side. To share the joy of raising a child with you," he said.

Gabriela didn't respond. Just climbed atop her son, took him back inside her, and started riding him for all she was worth. She wasn't sure her body could handle another orgasm, but she wasn't looking to get off herself. Just to harvest her son's seed. To draw out the life-giving force hidden within him.

She threw everything she had at Eric. His Libido fell under siege. Her energy poured into him at a sickening pace. If that didn't do the trick, and soon, she might not have enough energy left to conceive, even though she'd been as full as she'd ever been just a moment before. That's how aggressively she was manipulating her son's senses.

But her lion wasn't giving in that easy.

He pulled her down and pressed his lips to hers. Gabriela almost caught on fire. A tingling sensation spread out from her mouth, across her face and down her neck. Her son was burning with desire for her the likes of which she'd never felt. And that was something, considering that he was the most passionate lover she'd ever taken.

Her hands gripped his chest tight, compressing his thick muscles. They hardly gave at all, though. Her gorgeous son was built like a tank.

"Oh, baby," she moaned as she pushed her hips back and forth, allowing no more than an inch of his beautiful tool to slip out with each gyration. "You are so perfect."

It apparently would have taken too much energy for him to respond. His face was contorted in ecstasy so deep that it was barely distinguishable from agony. Those beautiful blue eyes of his struggled to stay open, his eyelids fluttering like the wings of a hummingbird. His mouth gaped open and the most exquisite little whimpers escaped from within.

Gabriela nibbled at her son's earlobe gently, ever so slightly increasing the assault on his pleasure center. Her lips tugged at the soft flesh, pulling it away from his body a bit before releasing. Then her warm tongue would swoop in and dance along its edge delicately, a butterfly kissing a flower petal.

Her son shuddered, and she sensed that he was close now.

"I love you, Eric," she whispered.

"I love you too, Mom," he responded without hesitation. "More than anything in the world. More than I ever thought a man could love a woman."

Then she gripped him as hard as she dared with her womb, made her walls vibrate, and slid down his pole until he was buried to the hilt inside her.

With that, her son threw his head back and roared.

As he did, he blasted her womb with his cum. It shot into with incredible force. She felt like she was riding a tidal wive.

"Yes, yes, fill me up, baby!" she shouted.

Like a good son, he did exactly that.

As she'd dreamed of doing so many times, Gabriela accepted her son's gift. Met his life-giving offering with all the energy she could muster. Her Libido hollowed itself out, deflating like a balloon, and she immediately felt the spark of life inside her. Felt that unbelievable, indescribable, paradox of knowing she had the power to do what no man could even as the deepest exhaustion settled over her.

The universe swam about her. For a brief instant, the Eternal Garden of the Sun and the Shadowed Glade of the Moon ceased to be the center of all reality.




Homelands Pt. 06 Ch. 04



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Author's note

As ever, if you have questions feel free to email me or leave a comment. Either way, I'll try to respond in a timely manner.

This is primarily an incest story, but it is also sci-fi/fantasy, and supernatural elements are not incidental to the plot. Additionally, many chapters will feature elements of other categories, particularly group sex and anal.

All sexual acts are consensual and involve parties who are at least eighteen years of age.

########################

As they climbed the hill, making their way up towards the Temple of the Sun, Veronica felt a growing sense of dread. The temple itself might well have inspired awe, under different circumstances. The simple beauty of its classical architecture, the stark contrast of all that bright gold against pale marble, to say nothing of its prominent position on the highest point of the island, certainly demanded a measure of respect.

But she finally saw what her grandmother undoubtedly had sensed from the beginning. That its presence marked a dramatic and irrevocable change in Summer.

Grandma Flori hadn't said as much, of course. But what she hadn't said spoke volumes. When Veronica had asked, not for the first time, whether it was good news that the king had turned to Eternal Garden rather than Daphne, her grandmother had replied in the affirmative, but with as little enthusiasm as possible. An unspoken "but" had dangled on the end of her words.

It shouldn't have taken her until now to see why.

It was just that the past few days had felt like a dream. She'd caught the baby fever that seemed to be going around, and her brother hadn't hesitated a moment before telling her how much he'd love to start a family with her. From the moment Nick's seed had taken root in her garden, Veronica had felt like a new woman. And the world around her felt new as well. As if it had been restored to some prior state of glory. The Homelands were suddenly filled with promise and possibilities. No longer did she see an unforgiving realm that had torn their family apart and nearly killed her brother. Rather, she walked amidst a magical paradise, a fantasy realm that she'd reluctantly leave behind in a matter of days, only to return once her children were grown.

Ever since she'd discovered who she was, she'd dreamt of bearing Nick's child. Of living with him as his wife, rather than his sister. And now, after telling herself for so long that she shouldn't indulge in such hopeless fantasies, they were coming true.

Thanks to her father.

How could there be anything wrong with that?

Even after their grandmother had failed to show any sign of relief over the news of Daphne's noninvolvement, Veronica had refused to let go of that optimism.

That they were all required to visit the temple and worship the Illuminated hadn't seemed like such a big deal. Nor had Veronica thought much of the fact that they could only go in ones and twos. Sure, the idea of treating Kurt and Olivia as deities was a little absurd, but if that was the price for the future she'd never thought she could have, Veronica would gladly pay it. It was all just for show, anyway. A few hoops to jump through. Nothing more.

With every step nearer the temple that she took, though, Veronica found it harder and harder to deny the obvious truth. The king might have done what he thought was best, and he might even be right to do so, but they'd soon learn that the protection of the Eternal Garden did not come cheap. The whole business of worshipping their sunlit cousins was a whole lot more serious than she'd first assumed too.

"Don't be nervous," her grandmother said, laying a hand on Veronica's shoulder.

"I'm not," Veronica lied.

"You wish your brother was making this trek with you."

Veronica looked away.

She understood why he wasn't. Or she thought she did, anyway. Nominally, their mother wanted some time alone with Nick. Wanted to coach him in what to do, and what not to do, as Veronica's time got closer. But that wasn't really it. Though pregnancy was a briefer affair for their kind than it was for mortals, there was still plenty of time for that talk. No, the truth was that her grandmother wanted to be there with her when she went before their new sunlit overlords. And since they were only permitted to enter the temple one or two at a time, that meant that she and her brother would have to make the journey separately.

"I understand, dear," her grandmother said.

And that was the last that either of them had to say about the matter.

They topped the hill in silence, and Veronica felt the air go out of her lungs. Beautiful as the Temple of the Sun had seemed from a distance, it was indescribably so up close.

A pair of obelisks flanked the arched entrance to the temple, each bearing a golden sunburst the size of her head. The paving stones underfoot were similarly purest gold. Veronica had never seen so much of the precious metal at once.

"Welcome, children," a voice called from deep inside the temple.

It occurred to Veronica that the temple was surprisingly dark. There were no torches or windows or anything. At least, not that she could see. Perhaps it was different farther in.

Zoey slowly came into view. She looked every inch the High Priestess. Her white silk gown was trimmed heavily with cloth-of-gold. A belt of thick, golden medallions encircled her waist. Then there was her necklace and her earrings, the many rings she wore upon her fingers and her toes, the diadem perched atop her head, and the bands around her willowy arms. It should have seemed excessive to Veronica. Opulent. Decadent. Yet somehow, the woman's attired struck her as utterly appropriate, as though anything less would be unbefitting a goddess of Zoey's stature.

The woman Veronica had once considered her aunt held out a hand, wrist limp and fingers hanging like branches from a tree. She tilted her head back and softly glowing eyes stared down a slender nose at them.

Grandma Flori was the first to her knees, but Veronica was not far behind. They kissed Zoey's hand then waited patiently for the High Priestess to signal for them to rise.

"You are with child," she said to Veronica, pressing a hand against her midsection. What little light there was in the hallway winked out as the High Priestess closed her golden eyes. She drew a deep breath before saying, "Your daughter will be strong and healthy."

That should have filled Veronica with joy. But the warm hand pressed against her bare skin felt wrong. Menacing. It bore her child no blessings.

"Come inside," Zoey said, turning on a heel and retreating into the darkness.

Veronica looked a question at her grandmother, who merely nodded.

Heart pounding, she followed the High Priestess into the bowels of the temple.

#

"You really don't mind?" Patty asked.

"Not at all," Eric replied, giving his sister's hand a reassuring squeeze.

The bigger question was whether their mother cared. But he didn't tell Patty that. Besides, though their mother wouldn't be crazy about having to visit the temple by herself, she'd understand how hard it would be for Patty to see Kurt again, to bend the knee to him and pretend he was a divine being. Seeing as they were forbidden from entering the temple more than two at a time, either Patty or their mother was going to have to go alone. And it wasn't fair to ask Patty to bite that bullet.

"Guess we should do it, then," she said.

Eric nodded.

As they headed up the hill, he found himself marveling at his sister. Not long ago, he'd have found it hard to imagine her looking and sounding so calm at a moment like this. Of course, he'd have had a hard time imagining a moment like this, but even so. Due to the strange workings of time, his sister had technically spent considerably less time in the Homelands than he had. Yet Patty was no less changed by her time here than he was.

Granted, there wasn't much reason for her to be anxious anyway. Kurt would undoubtedly be glad to see her. As he hoped Olivia would be to see him, despite the fact that he'd given her plenty of reason not to be. Yet he knew his sister, and if Patty was feeling as calm about this as she let on, he was a purple elephant.

"It's weird, isn't it?" Patty asked. "They're our freaking cousins."

"I know," Eric said. "Illuminated. Could it sound more pretentious?"

His sister snickered. "Not much, no."

As they drew closer to the temple, though, they fell silent. Eric had to admit, it was more than a little impressive. It all still struck him as incredibly odd, but he could see how someone who didn't remember Aunt Zoey making a complete fool out of herself during family softball games, who hadn't given Kurt countless wedgies or stuck gum in Liv's hair, would greet whatever beings dwelled within this temple as divine.

"Hey, guys," Olivia said as the topped the hill.

Patty looked at Eric as if to ask, "Can you believe this?" then started giggling.

"Oh, sorry," Liv said, stepping out of the shadows. Her voice deepened. "Welcome, children," she announced.

"That's more like it," Patty said.

Eric looked his cousin up and down. She wore white silk and cloth-of-gold and tons of jewelry. Her skin had turned the color of her mother's, complete with metallic glint. She looked exactly as he remembered her, and yet so too did she look like precisely the type of otherworldly being that ought to inhabit the majestic temple.

"Is this the part where we bow?" Eric asked.

Olivia shrugged.

"This whole thing some big joke?" Patty asked.

"If you ask me, it is," Liv replied. "But unfortunately, the official answer is different."

"The others are taking it seriously?" Eric asked.

His cousin nodded. "I think Vee left her feeling like she'd seen a ghost," she said. "My mother's really getting into the whole High Priestess thing."

"And...Kurt?" Patty asked.

Olivia sighed.

"Even worse?" Eric guessed.

Liv laid a finger on her nose.

Eric put an arm around his sister. She flashed him a quick grin, patted his chest, then pulled away. Watching her draw herself up to her full height made Eric want to laugh. The girl didn't even reach five feet. But she still managed a measure of dignity.

"He's waiting for us inside," Liv said. "Follow me."

With that, she spun and headed deep inside the temple. Eric and Patty followed.

The hallways were dark, but when Olivia spread her hand out before her, a golden beam appeared, as if she was a human flashlight.

Every ten paces or so, their cousin would take what seemed to Eric to be a random turn. Every intersection, every stretch of hallway, looked exactly the same. On and on they went, hanging random rights here and inexplicably turning left there.

After a seemingly interminable length of time, they rounded a corner just like every other and found themselves in an open courtyard. Marble columns reached like outstretched hands into the sky and slabs of pure gold lay underfoot, but the darkness was gone. The sun shone so brightly overhead, in fact, that Eric had to cover his eyes.

The gold paving stones didn't help anything either.

Near the center of the courtyard, a winged Kurt hung in midair. His head was thrown back and his eyes closed. It looked like he was praying.

"For fuck's sake," Eric muttered under his breath.

Olivia hid a snicker behind her hand.

But their other cousin was less amused. His eyelids snapped open and he glowered at Eric as he settled softly to the ground. For a brief instant, Eric was certain that Kurt was going to conjure a flaming sword and charge at him.

If he did, he'd have been sorely disappointed with the outcome.

However, he simply approached them slowly, a look of grim determination on his golden face. And the closer he got, the less smug and confident Eric felt. He started to wish he was somewhere else. Or else that the little twerp would at least blink.

"It's good to see you again, Patty," Kurt said, his unwavering gaze still locked on Eric.

Beside him, his sister went to her knees.

Eric considered remaining upright, but not for long. After enduring staring back into his cousin's golden eyes for a second or so, he too knelt.

"We are not worthy to be in your presence, Illuminated One," Patty said.

To Eric's ear, it almost sounded like she meant it.

"Rise," he said, beckoning them to their feet with a gesture of his hand.

Eric noted that their cousin hadn't taken issue with Patty's claim.

"Kurt," Olivia gently admonished.

He silenced his sister with a curt glance.

Olivia took Eric's hand in hers. "Come. Let's give these two lovebirds some privacy."

Eric started to protest. He found himself somewhat less than enthusiastic about leaving Patty alone with Kurt. No matter that Patty could probably take him in a fair fight, even if he wasn't quite the scrawny bean pole he'd been back in the Playground. It wasn't a physical altercation that he feared. Though their cousin had changed even more than he or Patty had, and not for the better, his sister still carried a torch for him. He was sure of it. She was crazy about Mike, and presumably wasn't hoping to rekindle things with Kurt. But whatever residual feelings for him she still had left her vulnerable.

Liv didn't give him a choice though.

She gave his hand a sharp little yank, and he nearly lost his feet. If she'd put any real force behind it, he'd have gone soaring across the courtyard.

"Play. Nice," she said to Kurt as she led Eric back towards the hallways.

Eric looked over his shoulder and saw his cousin place a hand gently on Patty's shoulder before drawing her in for a hug.

Maybe the kid had just gotten a little creepy after drinking too much Kool-Aid. Religious zealots were always uncomfortable to be around. That didn't necessarily mean they weren't safe to be around. Besides, hadn't he just been thinking to himself that Kurt would be glad to see Patty? And wasn't that obviously the case?

"He's not the same as he used to be," Liv explained once the courtyard disappeared behind them. "But he's still a good kid." Her voice lowered. "Sometimes, I wish I could have the old Kurt back."

"Only sometimes though?" Eric asked, sensing a subtle shift in her Libido.

Liv cleared her throat by way of response.

She'd always gone a little weak in the knees for a guys with a lot of confidence. Most girls did, to some extent. But it was a real soft spot for Liv.

One he'd exploited ruthlessly, back before his mother had opened his eyes.

It wasn't hard to see how this new, ultra-intense Kurt might get his sister's juices flowing. If he were to at her the way he had Eric back in the courtyard, she'd completely lose it. Turn into a living sex doll for him to use as he pleased.

Without any warning, his cousin rounded on him and slammed the heel of her fist into his chest. Eric crashed into the nearest wall so hard he feared the marble slab would fall down on top of him. His body ached as it never had before.

"By the way," Olivia said, "You've got some fucking nerve."

"What?" he asked, holding up his hands defensively.

She stood over him, hands balled into fists, but she made no move to strike him again.

"What'd I do?" he asked.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" she asked.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I...I didn't mean to-"

"Yeah," she said. "I'm sure you didn't."

Eric tried to get up, but his back spasmed and he fell back down. Damn, but the girl could pack a punch. Maybe their sunlit cousins really were a cut above the rest of them.

It was worse than a back spasm, he realized. At least one of his ribs was cracked. Breathing shouldn't hurt like that. He pulled energy out of his Libido, mending the bone.

"Didn't want you to see me crying," Eric said after he gathered up enough energy to speak again. "Okay?"

She didn't respond.

"I know, it's stupid," Eric said. "You deserved a real goodbye. But all I could think of at the moment was that you couldn't see me like that."

"`There's no crying in baseball."'

"Exactly," Eric said.

Olivia shook her head. "Sometimes, in my crazier moments, I think that men are just hairy people. Then I remember you're really a species all your own."

"I am sorry," Eric said as he finally climbed back to his feet.

"You should be," Liv said.

"If I'd known how strong you were...." Eric said.

His cousin helped him wipe the dust off his shirt. "A likely story."

"Seriously, though," Eric said. "Are we so far beneath you?"

Olivia sighed. "Kurt thinks so."

"He does?"

She shrugged. "I don't know. Certainly sounds like it, most of the time."

Eric fell silent.

"I didn't ask for this," she said, turning away. "Well, in a sense, I did. I've wanted to come back to Summer for a while. But not like this."

"What's this really all about?"

"Who knows," she said.

Olivia herself did, for starters. Eric sensed it in her Libido. A flash of guilt tinged with fear. She knew something that she wasn't going to tell him.

Eric rested his hands on his cousin's shoulders and leaned down to kiss the top of her head. "Must not be easy, being caught in the middle."

She choked out a sound that was equal parts disgust and agreement. Laying a hand atop one of his, she said, "You have no idea."

"You don't have to be, though."

"Is your mother carrying your child?" Liv asked.

The question took him off guard. But he wasn't about to lie to her. Not after the way she'd laid him out earlier. He only had so many bones to break, after all.

"Yes."

"Mmm-hmm," his cousin said.

"Liv."

"Don't, Eric. Okay? Just don't."

"That doesn't mean-"

"Stop," she said. "You've got your family. I've got mine. And, in the Homelands, family's all anyone's got. Nothing anyone can do about it."

He'd never known his cousin to be so fatalistic. Had never known her to take much of anything seriously, come to think of it. He decided that it didn't suit her. No more than the god complex suited his goofy cousin, who'd never been fanatical about anything other than baseball before they'd reached Summer's shore.

"It's good to see you again," she said quietly.

"Yeah." He kissed her golden hair again. "Same here."

His cousin leaned back against his chest. "I'm going to have Kurt's baby."

Eric slid a hand down from his cousin's shoulder to her flat stomach.

"No, I'm not pregnant yet," she said. "But that's the plan. After we establish the temple, some other lesser nobles will come and take over and we'll return to the Eternal Garden. Then my mother and I will conceive."

"I see," Eric said.

He should have said more, probably. Should have told her that she shouldn't go back to the Eternal Garden. Told her that her place was here, in Summer, with him. But he couldn't do that. He belonged to his mother.

As she'd said, he had his family and she had hers.

Eric wished Uncle Wes was still alive. Maybe all of this would still be happening, but at least Liv would have someone other than Kurt. Someone who didn't think that the rest of them were insects. Someone decent and kind and modest.

"No sense fighting it," she said.

He didn't reply.

And with that, Liv had apparently decided she was done talking. She took him by the hand and led him to a sitting room, where they didn't do a lot of sitting.

#

"Is everything okay?" Patty asked her cousin.

The moment the words left her mouth, she wished she could take them back. Though it hadn't been a week since the two of them had run off together, that might as well have been a lifetime ago. He wasn't her lover anymore. Nor even a friend. He was a sunlit lord. An angel. A representative of the Eternal Garden of the Sun.

And she was just Patty.

Kurt gave her a puzzled look. She almost expected him to ask what the fuck she was talking about. But his face softened a moment later, and he took her hand in his.




Homelands Pt. 06 Ch. 04



"I'm sorry," he said. "About everything."

"It's okay," she forced herself to say.

That didn't really answer her question, but it was a whole lot better than the reaction she'd feared her question might elicit.

"Didn't mean to come on so strong just now," he added. "Eric just really gets under my skin sometimes. Thinks he's so much better than everyone else."

It took everything Patty had to keep from laughing in her cousin's face.

He wasn't entirely wrong. Eric had always talked down to Kurt. Nick too, if not quite to the same extent. But at least he didn't think his blood purer than everyone else's.

"How...does this work?" Patty asked.

Kurt looked at her softly, but didn't respond.

"What exactly do you want from us?"

He looked away. Where a great and powerful angel had stood just a moment before, she now found her cousin, scared and confused. His skin remained golden, but his eyes turned blue as they had once been.

Something stirred in Patty, and she remembered why she'd fled Summer with him in the first place. She reached up and pressed a hand to his cheek.

His eyes snapped back to her, and she thought he might pull away. Or smack her hand down. But he didn't. Just pressed his own hand atop hers.

"It's not really about what we want," he said. "This was my grandfather's idea."

"I thought it was my father's," Patty said.

Kurt shrugged. "Maybe it was. Grandpa didn't really explain. At any rate, we're here because he wants to curry favor with the ancients. And, for whatever reason, helping to establish a temple in the outer Homelands will apparently do that. I've no idea why."

It was the same all over the Homelands, from Summer to the Eternal Garden. Those with power rarely bothered to explain anything to those without. And however privileged their position here might be now that this stupid Temple of the Sun had been erected, Kurt and his family were pretty far down in the pecking order back in the Eternal Garden.

"Mostly, my mother wants to go back to the Garden and start a family," Kurt said. "Liv would probably prefer to stay here, I think. She's not entirely sure what she wants, though."

"And you?" Patty asked.

Kurt looked her in the eyes. "You've met someone else."

She wished he hadn't asked that. But after a moment's hesitation, she nodded.

"It's all over you," he said.

He probably knew she was pregnant then too. Even though their kind carried children to term much more quickly than mortals did, it would still be a little while before she started to show. Physically, that was. Her Libido was another story.

Still, her cousin didn't say anything about the child growing within her.

"What's he like?" Kurt asked.

Patty sighed. "Perfect, really."

Her cousin winced, but the expression came and went so fast that she'd have missed it if she'd so much as blinked. "Good," he said, voice warm and soft. "I'm glad to hear it." He ran his hands through her hair. "You deserve no less."

"You'll meet him, sooner or later," Patty said. "Every one of us has to come pay our respects, right? Even the king and his children?"

Kurt nodded.

"His name's Mike," Patty went on. "We have the same father, but his mother is my Aunt Nina. The king's sister."

Nick and Veronica thought that's what all this was really about. Giving the king cover for violating the one taboo their kind had. It seemed all of them were carrying purebred children now, though. That made it hard for Patty to remember that the rest of the Homelands still frowned on that. Used a different word for it. The way mortals did.

"So I guess he's my brother, even though he's also my cousin," she continued.

"It's the closest connection that counts," Kurt said. "At least, my grandfather says that's how we see it in the Garden."

Patty took note of his choice of words.

"We."

He was truly lost to her. If there'd ever been any doubt, it was gone now.

Not that it mattered to her. Not really. She was happy with Mike. And it no longer struck her as odd to think of herself as a member of House Moody. She'd never felt so close to Eric. There was always Nick and Veronica too. They saw her as no less a sister just because she belonged to a different house. Wasn't as though there was anything missing from her life, in other words.

Still, she couldn't help feeling a little sad.

Much as she'd dreaded this visit, in the back of her mind, she'd still hoped that maybe she'd find the old Kurt waiting for her. That he'd have seen the folly of his grandfather's bigotry. Given up on finding his place in Solopolis now that he'd returned to Summer.

No such luck.

"Anyway, he's easy enough to tell from his brother," she continued. "Troy's black."

She'd almost added that Mike was a dragon. But he wasn't anymore. Not often, anyway. Increasingly, he wore his natural form. Since their father had given his blessing for them to return to the Playground, asking only that they wait until the child was born before leaving, Mike had started to see himself differently.

His mother was less enthusiastic about the idea. But to his credit, that didn't matter to Mike. If their father wasn't king, Mike might not even have cared what he had to say.

"I see," Kurt said, sounding a bit confused.

Patty started to explain, but stopped. Her cousin didn't seem terribly interested in learning about her new lover and his family. Understandable enough, really.

"How's your mother?" she asked.

"Anxious to leave," he said.

"Already?"

Kurt turned away from her and took a few steps nearer the center of the courtyard. "This feels as unnatural to us as it does to you," he said.

Somehow, Patty doubted that.

But it had been a stupid question. He'd already told her that Aunt Zoey wanted to leave, that she was eager to start a family. Which presumably meant bearing his child, come to think of it. In her haste to change the subject, Patty had all but asked for him to take that impatient and condescending tone.

She came up behind her cousin, running her hands over his back. The smooth silk of his white tunic felt strange, but the hard muscles beneath did not.

"What can I do to help?" she asked. "What will convince the ancients that you've all done a good job here?"

"I don't even know," he said. "But I appreciate the thought."

His Libido had gone cold. The empathy and warmth were gone, as were the flashes of frustration and the faint hints of desire. Patty sensed nothing at all.

That wasn't possible.

It could only mean that he was masking her Libido from her somehow. She'd never heard of that, but it had to be true. There were some men she couldn't read unless strong emotions filled them. But Kurt was not one of them. Brief and tragic as their history together was, it was enough that she ought to have been able to read him without any trouble.

Before she could ponder what her cousin might be hiding from her, he turned around, placed his hands on her shoulders, and gave her a soft kiss.

It made her heart flutter.

There'd been a time when her cousin could do that to her with such a simple little kiss. But that time was gone. She felt her knees buckling and lips tingling and pussy quivering because Kurt was pouring energy into her like his life depended on it.

Patty could have resisted. It probably wouldn't have done much good, but she could have. If she'd wanted. Her cousin was less than subtly nudging her in a certain direction, but if things took a raunchy turn from there, she was far from blameless.

"That's it," she panted as her beautiful sunlit cousin threw her back onto a lounge chair that hadn't been there a moment before and spread her legs apart. "Give it to me, Kurt."

Her cousin was suddenly stark naked. As was she, for that matter. One moment, he wore a silk tunic and a fortune worth of pure gold, while her body was covered in a modest sundress. The next, they were not.

Kurt was pressing his raging hard cock against her opening. He hadn't bothered to warm her up with his fingers or his tongue or anything. But Patty was more than okay with that. Just at the moment, she wasn't sure she could stand to wait through any foreplay. She needed to feel his dick inside her and his strong hands groping at her. Needed to feel his breath warm against her neck and his soft lips pressed against hers. To look up into golden eyes and find them glowing with passion.

It would be the goodbye they should have said to one another. The stupid little kiss back in the Eternal Garden wasn't going to cut it.

With her hands cupping his hard little ass cheeks tight and her teeth nibbling at his golden neck, Patty silently implored her cousin to give it to her properly. She didn't want him to make love to her. She needed him to fuck her, good and hard.

And he did.

#

Eric couldn't so much as imagine ever again questioning his mother's perfection. But for a while that afternoon, Olivia reminded him of why he'd once been so infatuated with her.

It wasn't because she was incredibly, breathtakingly gorgeous. She did indeed have the prettiest face he'd ever seen, but that wasn't it. It wasn't because she was so thin. Her tight little body, whose only curves came from hard muscles, made her seem less than a woman.

No, it was because she was such a creative, unpredictable, wild lover.

Eric had found that, most of the time, when a girl prided herself on being wild, that meant that he was in for a performance that belonged in an audition for a bit part in a horror movie. What made girls think that guys wanted them thrashing about chaotically, screeching at the tops of theirs lungs, while putting their teeth and nails to work in ways that inspired fear more than they did sexual excitement, he couldn't have said.

Olivia wasn't like that.

Her teeth didn't always behave themselves, to be sure. Nor was she shy about using her nails. But she didn't go overboard with that stuff. And, more importantly, she understood that it was the uncertainty about what might come next that mattered. If she behaved like an animal the whole time, it wouldn't have done anything for him. What made sex with Liv so exciting was that Eric never knew when she was going to play it slow and seductive, passionate and aggressive, or tease him within an inch of his life. He never felt entirely safe with her. Never knew when his poor little guy might next feel his cousin's hard teeth bearing down upon it. But neither did he feel like he was at war.

A few minutes in, it all came back to him. Though his cousin could never rival his mother in his heart, she certainly knew how to get his blood flowing. And she'd learned a few nifty tricks since he'd last seen her too.

Another reason he found himself remembering how he used to feel about her was that she changed her appearance. The glittering gold skin became smooth and bronze. Her yellow eyes turned blue and her full lips ruby red. The little barbells she used to wear in her puffy nipples returned, as did the zipper in her navel.

The gorgeous little slut sucking his dick enthusiastically reminded him no more of an angel than she did a picnic bench. If not for all the gold and marble surrounding them, he could almost have forgotten the whole sun worship business.

"Atta girl," he said, running his hands through the only part of her that remained golden. "You're a good little cock-sucker, aren't ya? Fuck, I love watching you gag on that fat dick."

Her eyes gave as much of a response as she could muster, what with his oversized slab of meat being so deep in her throat. That pointy little nose of hers had been buried in his pubes a moment ago, before she'd backed up a few inches to make eye contact with him.

There was something more than a little satisfying about watching her swallow his entire length. But lest he be forced to settle for that alone, Liv made her throat vibrate unnaturally, sending little waves of pleasure along his shaft. She'd also sprouted a mouth in the palm of her hand so that she could gently suck on his balls while he fucked her throat. And, on top of all that, a dozen little fingers caressed him from head to toe. They were insubstantial, wispy, as though they were made of something just a bit more solid than a puff of smoke. Every little tender touch sent shivers down his spine.

When she finished him off, not more than a minute or two after she'd put all her little flourishes into place, his cousin swallowed every drop of his cum. Eric had been tempted to give her a facial, but it felt so good to have her warm mouth wrapped around his shaft, just below the foreskin, while her tongue relentlessly lapped at the sensitive underside of his helmet, that he just threw his head back and let her milk him.

"Damn, Liv," he said, after his dick finally slipped out of her mouth. "That was...I think maybe I missed you."

Still sitting on her haunches, Olivia looked up at him, eyebrows raised. "Maybe?"

Eric gave her a sly grin. "Don't tell my mother."

"Not me," his beautiful cousin said, reaching up to give his still hard cock a few lazy pumps. "I've never been one to kiss and tell."

"Right," he laughed. "You're the embodiment of modesty."

"You doubt me?" she asked as she rose to her feet. "If you knew how many guys thought we had something going, even though I always told them I wasn't looking for a commitment."

Eric brushed one of her nipples gently with a thumb. The piercing was cool to the touch, unlike her skin. It made a nice contrast. "Poor saps," he said.

"Brothers, roommates, RAs," she said. "Even a son, in one case."

"Professor?" Eric asked.

His cousin nodded. "Some of them eventually started to suspect. But most didn't. And at least one of the other guys I was banging would always be someone they knew."

"You're sick," Eric said. "I like it."

"I know you do," she said, taking him in her hand again.

A second Eric appeared behind her, cupping her shapely ass cheeks in his hands. It was the one part of her that bordered on curvy, and the girl knew how irresistible it was.

"Mmm," she purred. "Don't look now, but I think we've got company," she told the first Eric. Then, turning her head to the side, she asked the second, whom she apparently took to be Kurt, "Finished with Patty already?"

"Not exactly," the second Eric said.

"Oh," Liv replied. "Forgot you could do that."

Eric winced. "Lowly little lesser immortal that you are," she might as well have added.

No, that wasn't fair. She wasn't her brother. Olivia didn't think she was better than him just because she had some sunlit blood in her. So what if she didn't remember every little trick he'd mastered before she left?

The first Eric tilted Liv's head back and kissed her deeply while the other continued fondling her round little treasure while nibbling at her neck.

Kurt did join them, and not long after that. But he wasn't finished with Patty either. Eric's sister trailed behind him, holding her cousin's hand, looking almost as excited as she would have been back before this all began.

#

After proving to Patty just how much he'd changed, succeeding fantastically at the task he'd once struggled with, Kurt suggested that they go find her brother and his sister. Though Patty would have been perfectly content to remain in the courtyard with her cousin, lamenting the death of the sweet, goofy kid she'd not long ago thought herself in love with, while at the same time savoring the confidence and expertise of the new Kurt, she agreed.

As they walked through the dark halls of the temple, Patty found herself struggling to believe that the guy leading her by the hand was the same boy she'd grown up with. Riding their bikes around the block, screaming childish insults at each other, she'd never have guessed that she'd one day discover that her cousin could trace his lineage directly back to the first inhabitants of heaven. If anyone had described him as angelic back then, it would only have been in reference to the innocence he possessed and his sister so utterly lacked.

Of course, the little girl who used to bicker with her cousin endlessly, yet would whine and complain fiercely whenever her mothers told her that she couldn't go over Kurt's house to play, also would have a hard time imagining that she'd one day discover that she herself was immortal. That she possessed unfathomable supernatural powers. And that those powers were fed by energy she harvested from her lovers during the moment of climax.

It was all just too weird.

Some parts of it, she'd started to take for granted. As odd as it all would have sounded to her then, she could scarcely even imagine a life without those powers now. The thought of trying to hide who they were when she and Mike returned to the Playground to raise their child filled her stomach with butterflies. But as natural as some of it seemed, she still didn't quite believe in Solopolis, or the race of angelic immortals who looked down their noses on the so-called lesser immortals. She'd been to the stupid place, and yet somehow was still convinced that it had all been a dream.

How could her cousin do this to her? How could he come back to Summer, looking as good as ever, finally knowing how to please her, yet every bit as lost to her as when she'd left him in the Eternal Garden without knowing if she'd ever see him again?

Part of her hated him, part was glad for him and the sense of purpose he'd discovered, and part wanted nothing but to mount him again and ride that golden cock til she burst.

And he knew what a mess he'd made of her emotions. It even seemed to amuse him.

"I'd lay even odds that they're fighting," Kurt said over his shoulder. "Liv's pretty ticked off at your brother for not offering her much of a goodbye the last time they saw each other."

That was news to Patty. Did that mean that Eric was unaware of how their cousin felt? Or just that he'd kept it to himself? Neither would surprise her, but her money just might have been on the former. She loved her brother dearly, perhaps more so now than ever before, but he could be damned oblivious at times.

Turned out, though, that Kurt would have lost that bet.

When they walked in to the otherwise empty sitting room, they found Olivia sandwiched between two Erics. She rode one cowgirl style while the other crouched above and shoved his stovepipe cock into her tiny little ass.

The sight took Patty's breath away.

She'd taken two dicks at once herself, and had come to enjoy it a lot more than she was entirely comfortable admitting. But watching it happen as a detached observer was an entirely different matter. It looked so impractical, so extreme, so depraved. Patty almost wished she was disgusted by it. Maybe even was, a little. But mostly, it had her blood rushing to her nether regions and her skin tingling most pleasantly.

"Does that excite you?" Kurt asked, unnecessarily. The grin on his face told her that he already knew the answer. "Would you like to try that yourself?"

Patty blushed.

Her cousin chuckled to himself. "The Homelands have changed you, haven't they?"

Was he trying to goad her into telling him what she thought of the new and not necessarily improved Kurt? He couldn't really be blind to the irony of these comments, could he?

"Can be nice to be the center of attention," she said, avoiding his gaze.

"Hmm," Kurt said. "Just the one guy, even if he's in two bodies," he observed.

Well, in this case it was. But a few racy memories came to Patty's mind. There was the one time, right after she'd returned from the Eternal Garden, with Eric and Nick. Or, more recently, with both Eric and Mike one day and Mike and Nick another.

Then her cousin divided himself in two. One of them got down on the ground and gestured for Patty to climb on. The other went to relieve the backup Eric.




Homelands Pt. 06 Ch. 04



Soon enough, both Patty and Olivia were being DP'd by both Eric and Kurt.

Squeezed between the two studs as she was, Patty's view of the carnal acts unfolding on the lounge chair was rather limited. As was her ability to focus on anything other than the intense pleasures being visited upon her. But the mere knowledge that she and her cousin were simultaneously engaged in such depravity added to the excitement.

Though her body was on fire, she felt it only from a distance, as though it were a memory rather than something transpiring at that very moment. Poor Patty was adrift in a sea of purest ecstasy. It was almost a shame. She was only dimly aware of the hard, lean body beneath her and the beautifully sculpted one behind her. The smell of sweat and cum and perfume assaulted her nostrils, yet barely registered in her thoughts.

Her brother was whispering something sweet in her ear. Or maybe it wasn't so sweet. Maybe it was utterly filthy. And maybe it wasn't her brother.

Someone was gently fondling her breasts. Or maybe groping them harshly, mashing them together and tweaking her sensitive nipples. Someone else was raining slaps on her ass, summoning pins and needles. Or maybe they were caressing her cheeks, squeezing tenderly, as one might handle an overfull water balloon.

There was room in her mind for naught but the intense pleasure, the overwhelming stimulation, of her cousin's dick in her snatch and her brother's in her ass. The two had initially been overly afraid of coming into contact with one another. But at some point, they'd both decided to embrace their inner demons, to let themselves get carried away in the moment, and they'd started ravaging her as forcefully as she longed for them to.

Had she told them to do so? Or had they simply known?

It didn't matter.

Hours that might have been minutes later, Patty reached one of the most intense climaxes she'd ever experienced. Her two guys weren't far behind. Their warm cum filled both her holes to overflowing, and they poured energy into her Libido as it did. Eric's seed dribbled out of her ass, Kurt's jizz oozed past her swollen labia, and the little life within her feasted greedily on their supernatural offerings.

Some time later, they disentangled themselves. Patty's legs wobbled and the room spun, but that only made her laugh giddily. She couldn't have felt more satiated. Nor, she thought, could the child growing inside her.

The next thing she knew, the guys had collapsed back down to one body apiece, everyone was cleaned up and wearing clothes again, and they were all sipping tea from porcelain cups. It wasn't that there was a hole in Patty's memory, though it almost felt like it. The past few minutes had just blurred past in the blink of an eye.

"Is that how you pray here?" Eric asked Liv, his hand going to the small of her back.

"No, that's what we call penance," she replied.

"I'll have to make a point of sinning then," her brother said.

"We probably should teach them how to express proper devotion to the ancients," Kurt said gingerly, as if expecting his sister to immediately shoot the idea down.

She did not disappoint.

"Next time," she said.

"Yeah, next time," Patty agreed.

Kurt shot her a reproachful look, and a chill ran down her spine. But a faint grin immediately parted his lips, and he said, "Okay." Then he planted a soft kiss on her cheek.

"We should, uh, probably get going," Eric said to Kurt. "Right, Pattycakes?"

She nodded, suddenly wanting very much to be elsewhere.

They said their goodbyes and then Olivia escorted them back to the front of the temple.

#

For a while, Gabriela tried her best to do what was expected of her. She bent the knee and kissed Zoey's hand and referred to her as an Illuminated One. She asked the blessing of the ancients and proclaimed herself unworthy of their grace.

That had burned, since part of her felt that the sunlit woman was responsible for the loss of her devoted brother. What had any of the sunlit folk ever done for her?

Yet another part of her realized that it was no more fair of her to think so than it was to blame Nina. In fact, Zoey herself no doubt thought much the same of her. And not entirely without reason. Besides, hard as it was for her to accept, in the end, her brother's death was first and foremost the result of his decision to sacrifice himself for his family. It was no one's "fault" that Wes was a selfless, loving man who'd do anything for those he loved.

Still, playing the part of the humble supplicant to Zoey's High Priestess left a bad taste in her mouth. She doubted that it would have sat well with her anyway, but it was particularly hard to lower herself so egregiously to her former sister.

It was only after Zoey started going off script that Gabriela lost it though. Whether that was ironic or perfectly predictable, she couldn't have said. One way or another, she'd done her part, however much she'd resented it, right up until Zoey mentioned her brother.

"The one good thing that simpering brother of yours ever did for me," she'd said, "was provide me with a son. I realize that now."

Gabriela's jaw went so tight that she feared her teeth might grind one another to dust.

"I should have left Wes the moment Kurt came of age. My children never should have had to kneel before a lesser immortal and swear to obey him. If my son hadn't felt the pull of his ancestral home, hadn't-"

That was the moment that Gabriela snapped. When she decided that she'd heard enough, and that she didn't give a damn what Hank would say about her failure to submit to the agents of the Eternal Garden.

Slapping the taller woman across the face had hurt. It left her hand stinging and jarred the muscles and bones of her arm and shoulder.

But damn did it feel good.

And seeing Zoey lying on the floor, indentations in the slab of gold bearing witness to the unspeakable force with which she'd hit the ground, filled Gabriela with a satisfaction rarely felt outside the bedroom.

"Your son didn't feel the pull of anything. He was trying to save my daughter from being raped," Gabriela said. "And every breath you draw, you owe to my brother. He gave his life for you and your daughter. I can't stop you from lying to yourself about such things, but I'll be damned if I'm going to sit here and-"

All of a sudden, Gabriela went flying across the courtyard. First shock then pain overwhelmed her. Only after she landed in a heap, slowly recovered her breath, and lifted her head up a few inches, did she see that she'd crashed through a marble column. 

A soft whoomp-whoomp filled the air as Zoey flew up off the ground on a great pair of feathery white wings. Nothing in her appearance suggested that she'd just been smacked down, quite literally. Her hair felt to her waist in perfect ringlets and the was not so much as a hint of bruising or swelling on her cheek. The golden glow coming not just from her eyes, but surrounding her entire body with a faint nimbus, made her look more beautiful and terrible and angelic than Gabriela had ever seen her look.

"Should you ever again strike one of the Illuminated," Zoey said, "I will scour the flesh from your bones and sear the latter to ashes. Then I'll do the same for your children."

"Fuck you, you cunt," Gabriela said. "That wasn't an insult to your noble race and you know it. That was personal. As were your attempts to-"

Zoey's eyes flashed, searing Gabriela's vision even as she looked away. "You stand in a Temple of the Sun, where I serve as High Priestess. I speak with the voice of the ancients, whose blood courses through my veins. There is no distinction between insults to me and insults to the Eternal Garden of the Sun."

Gabriela drew a deep breath and climbed back to her feet. But she didn't speak a word in protest. Her anger was receding, the recognition of what she'd just done settling in.

"For the sake of your brother and the children he gave me, I will chalk that up to ignorance," Zoey said. "But you'd best not make the mistake again." The light pouring off of her grew a little less intense. "I am not your sister. Kurt is not your nephew, and Olivia is not your niece. We are your betters. We are Illuminated. No matter how we might offend you, or how kind we might choose to be to you, you must always remember that."

With great effort, Gabriela forced herself to lower her head in a modest bow.

The memory of seeing Zoey in a heap would remain with her forever. If biting her tongue was the price to be paid for that cherishable memory, then so be it.

"Has your king told you yet?" Zoey asked, her wings beating lazily so as to keep her aloft. "What your court is to give up in order to secure our patronage?"

It wasn't easy to keep from saying that she thought this right here was their end of the deal, but the moment she heard the words, she recognized their truth. Much as she disliked Zoey, and much as she wanted to believe that she could trust Hank, the arrangement she'd thought the king had made was clearly too good to be true.

A self-satisfied smile spread across the sunlit woman's lips. Gabriela tried not to think about how much she'd love to wipe it off for her.

"Every two years, you will send one purebred child to foster in the Eternal Garden, where they will learn proper respect for our people and our customs. Once they come of age, we will return them to you, to serve as an example of how lesser immortals might emulate the ways of the Illuminated. Thus shall we bring you back into the fold," she said.

Gabriela couldn't breathe. She might have to give up the child growing inside her. Have another woman raise it and then it return to her as a stranger.

Suddenly, the bowing and scraping didn't seem so bad.

"You can't," she said without even thinking about it.

"We can, and we will," Zoey replied, finally settling back down to the ground. She approached Gabriela slowly, studying her face intently. "Perhaps yours will be the first."

#

As she bounced up and down on her brother's cock, its thick shaft stretching her ass delightfully, Annie used the hands on the back of her aunt's head to keep her glued to Annie's snatch. Meanwhile, the black brother fucked his mother from behind.

Though Annie didn't much appreciate the pressure her father had put on her regarding Aunt Nina and her sons, there was a perverse pleasure to seeing the woman's face buried between her legs. That Nina didn't mind eating pussy, enjoyed it even, detracted from her pleasure a little, but not too much. It still felt good to make her service Annie orally.

She'd done her best to keep her distance from Troy, favoring Mike instead. Part of her felt guilty for that, as though she were stealing the good one from Patty. But that was nonsense. Their kind didn't do monogamy. Mike didn't owe it to Patty to keep away from other women any more than she did other men. And just because he made the family orgy a little more enjoyable for Annie didn't mean he loved their sister any less.

In the end, Annie enjoyed herself more than she'd expected to. Perhaps even more than she'd wanted to, though it felt strange to think of the intense orgasm Mike and Aunt Nina had given given her as anything other than a welcome gift.

Once they were finished, Nina dismissed the boys. Troy gave her a strange, lingering look. It wasn't affectionate, yet neither was it menacing. At least, if she found it so, that was on her. In truth, it was expressionless. For his part, Mike gave her a soft hug, pecked her on the cheek, and thanked her for a lovely afternoon.

Though the boy had ceased to be a dragon, Annie found him ever more attractive. Not so much so that she was jealous of her sister, mind. But enough that she was almost glad, on balance, that Aunt Nina and her two sons had joined the court. Troy still struck her as an asshole, but he'd been more or less behaving himself of late. Being around him was still awkward, but Annie was finding that she was more disgusted by him than afraid of him. His perpetually composed brother, who took after their father more than he seemed to believe, given his change in appearance, more than made up for Troy's creepiness.

If she could send just one of them away, she'd opt for Aunt Nina.

Without hesitation.

"I can see why you seem set to replace me," her aunt said when the two of them were alone. Her brown eyes were on her swollen pussy, which her green nails were teasing lightly. "To be perfectly honest, when I first met you, I was convinced that you'd never offer any real competition. Figured my brother had just found a new plaything to keep him occupied until I could rejoin the court. But you continue to impress me."

Annie said nothing.

She had no idea what she'd done to impress the woman, nor did she much care. All she wanted was for her aunt to leave. To be spared the need to parse her aunt's every word in hopes of guessing the woman's true intent. To be allowed to bask of her orgasm without being mocked or teased or insulted or damned with faint praise.

"Everything was right up near the surface with you," her aunt continued. "When I first met you. But you're getting good at not only hiding keeping your emotions out of your facial expressions, but masking your Libido besides. I wonder if you even realize you're doing it."

Her breath caught.

"As I thought," Nina said with a bemused smile.

Annie didn't reply. She didn't even know it was possible to mask her Libido. And something told her that her father would never have any trouble reading her.

A hand covered her stomach. "Your child will be a force to be reckoned with."

She wanted to tell her aunt to withdraw her hand, but instead she forced herself to smile.

"Do you ever dream of him? Picture his face?"

Of course she did. Constantly. The woman undoubtedly knew that. Was she looking for details? Did she believe Annie's dreams might be prophetic?

"Sometimes," Annie replied, covering her aunt's hand with one of her own.

Nina gave her a slow smile. At last, she cleaned up the sweat and cum, restoring her hair to its natural wonder from its current damp and messy state. Her makeup refreshed itself and the stench of sex lifted from the air.

"You will bear him a son," Nina said. "I'm not alone in sensing that."

She shook her head. No harm in conceding that much.

What she didn't tell her aunt, wouldn't tell her, was that the unborn son growing within her, who'd yet to stretch her belly, would one day slay his aunt. Not in anger, and not violently, but in cold-blood, while the two made love. His mouth covering her vulva, as though he were performing cunnilingus, he'd consume her. Swallow her whole.

If her dreams were to be believed, anyway.

Until this very conversation, Annie hadn't even been sure that her dream had meant anything. But now that her aunt was trying to get her to talk about her dreams, she felt sure that they did. If she could mask her Libido without realizing it, how hard was it to believe that her dreams foretold the future?

"You're not," Annie said at last.

Her aunt's hand slid slowly down her abdomen, towards her crotch. Annie laid still and let it happen. Though she didn't care for her aunt, there were few people who knew how to pleasure a woman the way Nina did. Her father was one of them, and so was Nick, but even so, she couldn't bring herself to object. Not when she knew what pleasures awaited her.

Fingers became tongues, and soon Annie felt the most exquisite sensations. Her clitoris, labia, and G-spot came under assault all at once.

"Tell me," Nina said. "What does the future hold for him?"

"I...don't know," Annie said.

Suddenly, she felt everything more intensely. Much more intensely. Rarely had Annie ever felt such incredible wonders.

"Please," she said, laying a hand over her aunt's wrist. Her hips writhed, trying to squirm away from the onslaught. It felt soooo good. She couldn't handle it.

Her aunt sat up, keeping her hand inside Annie. "You've had dreams," she said, dark brown eyes drilling into her niece. "The kind that stay with you."

"No," Annie said.

"No?"

"Nothing...like that," she said.

Fuck. She wanted to resist. To get away. But it felt so good that part of her insisted that the very last thing she should do was escape her aunt. A deep tension grew within her, building slowly towards climax. The kind of climax that few women were ever fortunate enough to experience. The kind that changed lives.

"Really?"

Annie threw her head back on the pillow and focused on her breathing. In and out, slow and steady. She was close. Very close. If she wasn't careful, she might get swept away by the ecstasy. Might lose all sense of self. But she wasn't about to let that happen.

"It's okay," Aunt Nina said. "You can tell me."

Nothing but desperate moans escaped Annie's lips.

She should...fight back. But she couldn't. The pleasure was so intense, she could barely think. Waves of pure euphoria rolled over her, again and again and again.

"Nothing...to tell."

"No?"

"No."

It was unbearable. If she didn't climax soon, she might cry. Never before had she felt anything like it. Her aunt knew exactly where to lick her. How fast. How hard.

"They're just dreams, dear," Nina said.

"Don't...ungh, fuck...remember."

How long that continued, Annie couldn't have said. She hovered on the brink of orgasm so long that it was a miracle that her mind didn't snap. But throughout it all, she defied her aunt. Refused to tell her what she wanted to hear. And, eventually, her aunt gave her the release she craved. Annie came hard, ejaculating all over the place.

But Nina never got what she was after.

#

"Sounds like you had a rather different experience than either of us did," Nick told Patty as he came back over the couch. He climbed over the back and sat down beside Veronica, wrapping an arm around her. "Can't say the Temple made much of an impression on me one way or the other. How 'bout you, Vee?"

She shrugged. "Not really, no."

Nick frowned. He'd expected her to mention the staring contest between their grandmother and Zoey, or the veiled threats she'd thought the High Priestess had made towards Veronica's unborn child. But if she didn't feel like sharing any of that with their sister, he wasn't going to push. Perhaps she thought that Patty still had some feelings for Kurt, that she'd take issue with any badmouthing of the boy's mother.

To Nick, it seemed clear as could be that Patty was afraid of Kurt. Ashamed of having wanted him inside her again. And she no more thought of Zoey as family than she did Flori Hardt. True, you'd never guess that just by listening to her recount the details of her visit. But this was Patty. She didn't speak ill of anyone. It didn't matter that she had nothing unkind to say about either her cousin or his mother. The truth was in her Libido.

Their sister sat on the obsidian coffee table, hands tucked under her thighs. "I guess." Patty stared at her cute little feet. "They were never really family to you guys, though."

"Nor are they yours, anymore," Nick said.

Veronica gave him a glance before turning back to the adorable blonde sitting across from them. "I'm glad you enjoyed yourself."

"Yeah," Patty said without looking up. It was like she'd barely heard Veronica.

The spacious quarters Nick and Veronica shared would have made a penthouse apartment look cramped. Veronica thought the spartan decor gave it an empty, lonely feel. It didn't help that everything was black or silver. But it was that coffee table that bothered her most of all. Even after he'd agreed to let her introduce some color in the form of a few red throw pillows, a vase of roses on the nightstand, and a painting of the setting sun hung above the fireplace, she still hadn't quite forgiven him for it.




Homelands Pt. 06 Ch. 05



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Author's note

As ever, if you have questions feel free to email me or leave a comment. Either way, I'll try to respond in a timely manner.

This is primarily an incest story, but it is also sci-fi/fantasy, and supernatural elements are not incidental to the plot. Additionally, many chapters will feature elements of other categories, particularly group sex and anal.

All sexual acts are consensual and involve parties who are at least eighteen years of age.

########################

"It's gonna be a girl," Mike said, wrapping his arms around Patty from behind. His warm palms rested flat atop her swollen belly. "Can't you just feel it?"

Patty smiled. She'd dreamt of her little girl many times. But other nights, it was a boy. He'd grow up to be the Patriarch of Summer. Or she'd steal Mike away when she came of age. Or he'd be the greatest lover she'd ever had. One way or another, their child would be the most beautiful the Homelands had ever known. That, she knew for a certainty.

The only question was whether she'd get to raise her own child.

It had been more than a month since they'd learned the true price of the Eternal Garden's support. The weekly trips to the temple were bad enough. If she never had to see Kurt again, that would be just fine with Patty. He'd grown increasingly nasty of late. But of course it didn't stop there. One of them would have their child ripped from their breast. Taken away and raised by strangers, brainwashed, and returned to them as a zealot.

Most of the time, she simply tried not to think about it. Other times, Patty found herself hoping that it was Annie's child. Or Veronica's or her mother's. As long as it wasn't hers.

Those thoughts made her sick.

It wasn't a fate she'd want anyone to suffer. And if it ended up being someone else, she'd probably only blame herself for jinxing them, ridiculous as that was. She just couldn't help herself. There was no easy way to cope with the grim knowledge.

Veronica's strategy was to punish Nick. Ostensibly, her goal was to convince him that they couldn't let their father force them to accept the terms he'd negotiated with the Eternal Garden. To goad her brother into rebelling against the king, rather than risk having their child taken away from them. But Patty rather suspected that her sister understood as well as the rest of them did that it would be futile to oppose their father. She was just looking for someone to take her frustration out on, and Nick was gracious enough to let her do so.

The poor guy. Sometimes she envied the two of them. Other times, she wondered why Nick put up with her.

"You think a boy?" her brother asked.

"Hmm?" Patty murmured. "Oh, I don't know. Sometimes I do. You're probably right though. She doesn't kick hard enough to be a boy."

"Any thoughts about what to name her?"

Patty drew a deep breath.

"Everything okay?" Mike asked.

She patted his hand. "Yeah."

A cool breeze picked up, stirring the hem of her gauzy white dress. The smell of salt and sea filled her nostrils. Sometimes, it was easy to forget all the bullshit, to see Summer as the paradise that it should be. But those moments were far too few.

"It won't be us," Mike said. He planted a kiss on the top of her head. "I promise."

Patty looked out from the gazebo, down to the shore, and imagined two little children playing in the sand. Shrieking as the waves crashed and laughing as they ran away from them. A little boy and a little girl.

That was absurd, of course. Even if they didn't have to hand their child over to the Eternal Garden, they wouldn't raise them here in Summer. They'd take them back to the Playground, as their parents had done with them. As had always been their people's custom. The Homelands were no place for children.

Still, she could just see her little boy splashing salt water at his sister. Could imagine how she'd scold him, all the while thinking him the cutest thing alive.

"Don't do that," she said at last, voice small. "I'd prefer to think you're the type of guy who keeps his promises."

Her brother didn't respond.

"You should convince Troy to knock your mother up," she said.

Mike snorted.

"Improve our odds of dodging the bullet," Patty continued.

"He wouldn't need any convincing," her brother said. "But Mom's not in any hurry to get pregnant again." His voice grew softer. "You'd think we were some terrible burden."

"Maybe one of you was," she replied.

That earned her another kiss.

"I'm sorry I've been kinda distant lately," Patty said. "It's just...I don't know how you guys can take it so lightly. Every danged one of you." A flash of anger hit her, but she did her best to suppress it. She didn't want to become Veronica. It wasn't Mike's fault that he wasn't as emotional as she was. That his body wasn't pumped full of hormones. That he could barely sleep at night, between the aches and pains and cramps and bloating, the bleeding and the food cravings, the random bouts of sickness and, worse of all, the crippling fear. "Guess it's true what they say. A woman becomes a mother the moment she conceives, but a man doesn't become a father until he holds his child in his arms."

Silence reigned.

"Guess it is," Mike said, after a fashion. His tone was somewhere between apologetic and wounded. Closer to the latter, really.

"I'm sorry, sweetie," she said. "I know it's real to you too."

"Forget it," he said, smoothing her hair. "I understand."

Patty sighed. Maybe she wasn't all that different from her sister after all.

"You've been gr-"

Just then, she saw him.

Kurt was strolling across the beach, holding a pair of sandals in his hands. As ever, he had a white tunic on and wore his weight in gold. To judge by his relaxed posture, his ambling gait, you'd think he was just out for a walk. Not a care in the world. Nor any particular reason for being here, on this particular stretch of beach.

As if he hadn't all but denounced House Moody. As if the island that had been his father's every bit as much as it was her mother's still belonged to him.

"What's he doing here?" Mike asked.

For a moment, Patty remembered the dragon he'd been when she'd met him. His skin remained fair and smooth, covered lightly with dark hair rather than metallic scales.

But there was a trace of it in his voice. Fire in his breath.

"Oh, hey Pattycakes," Kurt called out. "Didn't realize anyone was here."

Right. Of course he hadn't.

Mike's arms left her. He stepped into the entrance to the gazebo, filling the empty space. "Illuminated One," he said with just a little bit of an edge to his otherwise reverent tone. "Pleasure to see you outside the temple."

"I'm sure it is," Kurt said with an amicable smile.

Patty curtsied to her cousin, trying to remember the kind, modest boy she'd once fallen in love with rather than simply seeing the cold-hearted, self-important man he'd become.

"Not interrupting anything, am I?" her cousin asked.

Neither she nor Mike replied.

Kurt laughed to himself as he stepped nearer the gazebo. His facial expression was relaxed, but Patty could see the tension in his body. Or feel it in his Libido.

She wasn't even sure which.

"Not at all," Mike said at last.

Patty laid a hand on her brother's shoulder. His skin was warm. Past warm. A fire burned within him. His skin felt like a stone that had been taken out of the fireplace and had only just begun to cool off. She hadn't felt that in a long time.

"So," Kurt said, eying Mike up and down. "This is really the guy you left me for?"

"Kurt," Patty said. "Don't."

"What?" he asked, looking innocent as you please. "Just a little surprised is all."

Mike cleared his throat but otherwise ignored the bait.

"You left Summer," Patty said. "I'd have been glad to see you return with me."

"Sure you would have," he said. "That explains why you waited a whole two days to let some other guy squirt a child into your belly."

Patty grabbed Mike's hand. "We should go."

"What's the hurry?" Kurt asked, propping a hand up on the rail of the gazebo.

Her cousin's glowing, golden eyes locked onto the silver orbs of her brother. Patty wished he'd direct that stare at her. Wished he'd leave Mike out of it. Whatever problems he had with her, there was no reason to take it out on her brother. He'd never even met Kurt until after Patty had told him that she wanted to have his children.

"Please," Patty said. "What do you want from me?"

Finally, he looked at her. It wasn't easy to meet his gaze, what with the light radiating from his sockets, but she forced herself to do so. "Nothing at all," he said. "If I expected anything more than that from you, I'd be sorely disappointed, wouldn't I?"

"I think you should go now," Mike said, inching closer to the sunlit creep.

"Don't even think about it," Kurt said softly, without so much as bothering to look at Mike. His eyes remained locked on Patty.

"You're upsetting her," Mike said.

"She can handle herself," Kurt said. "Doesn't need you to play knight in scaly armor."

"Mike," Patty said, squeezing his shoulder more tightly.

He was going to do something stupid. She could sense it. Was there any way to stop him, without hurting or embarrassing him? She didn't want to emasculate him in front of Kurt. But neither did she want to see him get hurt. Or start something they couldn't finish.

To her surprise, she felt his skin cool.

"See you in temple," Mike told Kurt. Then, with that, he gave Patty's hand a gentle squeeze and took them back to her family's villa.

"Thank you," she said, hugging him as tightly as she could now that her abdomen looked like a watermelon. "That could've got ugly."

Mike smoothed her hair back and kissed her forehead. "I'm sorry he's being such a jerk. And sorry we can't do anything about it because of his mother."

"Forget it," Patty said. "Doesn't matter."

She only wished she believed her own words.

#

"Yes, yes, YES!" Gabby screamed as Eric slammed into her faster and faster and faster. Her nails dug deep into his biceps and the legs wrapped around his waist squeezed so tight that he feared she might cut him in half. Her womb held him in a vice grip, almost as if her body refused to give him enough leeway to slide in and out of her, however much she claimed to want him to do so. "Fuck me! Fuck me hard, baby. Mommy needs that dick!"

Until his mother had begun to swell with their child, Eric had never found the idea of having sex with a pregnant woman to be remotely appealing. But each and every day, he found himself stunned at how irresistible he found his mother. If anything, he found her more attractive than ever. The thought that the purebred son grew within her, not far from where his fat cock was currently poking, drove him insane with lust.

His mother's eyes rolled back in her head and her eyelids began fluttering like the wings of a hummingbird. The words coming out of her mouth became a incoherent, replaced by a stream of moans and sighs. Her upper body went limp, her hands falling away from his shoulders. Whatever energy this freed up was redirected into the intense, violent spasms that were taking place below the waist.

Her floodgates opened, and energy rushed into him. Wave after wave crashed against his inner self, threatening to drag him under and carry him away. It was all he could do to stand there and absorb it. To drink in his mother's potent energy.

When Eric regained control of his senses, he saw his mother quickly drifting off to sleep, a goofy grin on her face.

"I love you, Mom," he said, planting a soft kiss on her forehead.

"Mmmmee doo," she mumbled in response.

Eric laughed, kissed her again, then covered her with the blanket. For a few moments, he studied his mother, lying there so peacefully. He felt warm and happy. Nothing could be more beautiful. With a contented sigh, he turned out the light and left their bedroom.

With Patty and Mike down by the beach, the villa was as good as empty. Of late, Eric found that stranger and stranger.

When he lay awake in bed at night, listening to his mother breath, he heard the sounds of their baby cooing, or little feet padding down the hallway. When he closed his eyes, he saw their son playing happily with his toys, spittle running down his cute little chin.

It was strange. He hadn't thought it would feel so real to him this soon. Their child had yet to be born, yet Eric felt as though little James had been a part of their lives forever.

He didn't care what he'd told Nick. If the Eternal Garden tried taking his son, there would be war. Against his father, against his aunt, against all the ancients and their heavenly hosts if need be. No one, not no one, was going to take James away from him and Gabby.

"Eric?" a soft voice whispered as he came down the stairs.

He almost jumped at that.

"Sorry," Olivia said, coming into view. "Didn't mean to scare you."

"You didn't," he said.

His cousin gave him a sad smile. "Can we talk?"

Why were her eyes watery? Was she shaking, or was that just his imagination turning the quivers in her Libido into something more physical?

"Of course," he said.

Liv nodded, tucked a lock of hair behind her ear, and led him into the kitchen, where her half-empty mug of coffee and half-full ashtray awaiting her return. She poured some of the tepid stuff into another mug and handed it to him, but she didn't offer him a smoke as she lit one up for herself.

Eric wasn't interested in either anyway. "What is it?" he asked. "If that little shit has hurt you-"

"No, no, nothing like that," she said. Her blue eyes avoided his.

That was when he noticed what she was wearing. Loose-fitting pastel blue pajama pants and a tight pink tank top. The kind of thing she might have worn back in the Playground. Not the white and gold attire of the Illuminated. She looked more like a frightened little girl than a majestic, angelic being of pure beauty.

"Who then?" Eric asked, laying a hand on her shoulder.

"Oh, it's him alright," she said. "But it's not what he's done to me. It's what he's planning to do to you. Or one of you, anyway."

Eric's jaw clenched tight.

"I overheard him and Mom talking," Liv continued. "They didn't think I was there. At least, I assume they didn't. They'd never tell me that they were planning something like this. Think I'm too soft. Not committed to helping our family move up in the world."

He was tempted to point out that he was her family. That whatever had driven her to come here and warn him, it wasn't a lack of concern for her family. But he could reassure her that she'd done the right thing later. For now, he'd just let her say what she had to say. To judge by her trembling lower lip, nervous eyes, and all the coffee and cigarettes she'd apparently gone through while waiting for him, it wasn't going to be easy for her.

"They're not just going to take one of your children to be raised in the sunlit fashion," she said. "They're going to kidnap the child, fake its death, and give it over to grandpa."

"Why?" Eric asked. "Can't you have children of your own?"

"Yeah, they...we can," she said, sounding a little hurt at the implication that she belonged in the same category as her brother, mother, and grandfather. "But Grandpa couldn't, wouldn't, use any children my mother or I have the same way he will one of yours. He'd be too attached. Our children would be family."

A queasy feeling came over Eric. "What does he plan to do?"

Liv toked heavily on her cig then looked him in the eye, at last. Silence reigned for a moment, then his cousin said, "Produce a Guardian of the Gate."

"A what?"

The smoke billowed out her nostrils. "A castrated, mindless warrior to stand watch over the entrance to the innermost circles of Solopolis."

Eric covered his forehead. "What for?"

"Does it matter?" Olivia asked.

He hesitated a moment before shaking his head.

He got the picture. Their family's standing in the Eternal Garden would rise, for some reason or other, if they trained one of these Guardians. They wouldn't do that to their own, but a child of Summer? A lesser immortal? Totally different story.

"We can't let that happen," he said.

"Course not," Liv replied.

For just a moment, he wondered if he could trust her. If she was capable of feeding him a bullshit story to bait him into falling for some trap of her brother's. But he didn't think she was. Not because she cared more for him than for her brother. She wasn't choosing him over Kurt. Undoubtedly, she knew that he was in love with his mother, and that she couldn't get in the way of that. No, it was just that his cousin wasn't the type of person to assist in a plan to kidnap and castrate a child, to raise it like a guard dog, no matter what feelings she might previously have had for the person asking her to do so.

"Thank you," he said, kissing her on the cheek.

Liv gave him a nervous smile as she puffed away at her smoke. "So. Now what?"

"We demand that the king sever his alliance with the Eternal Garden and inform your mother that she is no longer welcome here," Eric said.

"And if he refuses?" his cousin asked.

If Olivia had noticed that he'd only singled out her mother, she didn't give any indication. "Then I guess it'll be time for a new king."

The others would back his play this time. They'd have to. Their unborn children were at risk too. But even if they didn't, it wouldn't change anything. He was tired of living in fear. Tired of seeing the effect it was having on his mother and his sister.

"I'll go back to the temple," his cousin said, her voice suddenly firm. "Be more use to you inside. Should it come to that."

Eric nodded. He ran his hands through her hair and stared into her golden orbs. The intensity he found there almost frightened him.

If the sunlit delegation refused to leave peacefully, his cousin would indeed be a great asset. Fierce, powerful, and perfectly positioned to take them from behind.

"You wouldn't have a problem with that?" he asked, knowing the answer.

Liv hesitated only a moment before saying, "No." A heavy sigh came before the rest of her answer. "Fuck. It hurts to say that." She fretted at her lower lip. "I love the kid, you know? I don't know how he got so screwed up. When he first started changing, I liked the new Kurt. Seemed like he'd finally grown some backbone. But now he scares me as often as not." She closed her eyes. "And Mom. Geez. I don't know how stable I'd be, after going through what she did. After being raised by her father."

"I miss him too," Eric said in response to her unspoken words.

Olivia looked at him flatly.

"Not as much as you do, though," he added.

A wan smile.

"He was a good man."

"Everything fell to shit after he left," she said.

After he left? Had her father's death hit her so hard that she couldn't even say aloud what had happened to him?

"I just wish it could all go back to the way it was," his cousin continued. "Kurt would be a lovable little goof again. Mom would be a little neurotic, but not batshit crazy. And I could lie in Daddy's arms, without a care in the world."

Eric didn't know what to say to that. So he simply kissed the top of his cousin's head.

"If they...if we have to...what's going to happen to me?"

"There'd be a place for you here," he said.

What more could he say? She didn't expect him to tell her that they'd be together, did she? He had real feelings for her, but nothing like the ones he had for his mother.

His cousin gave no reply. Just leaned her head against his chest.

#

Her father came up behind her and placed his hands on her shoulders.

Annie jerked forward, out of his hands. The magazine she'd been pretending to read fell to the floor as she twisted around to look back at him. "Is it true?"




Homelands Pt. 06 Ch. 05



"Is what true?" he asked with a hint of amusement in his deep voice. "Sorry if I startled you. I was only going to give you a massage."

Ever since Mike had told her what he'd heard from Eric, Annie had been seething. She tried everything to get her mind off it, knowing that there was nothing she could do until her father returned home from court. A swim in the pool, a workout in her room, a favorite movie on the big TV in the family room, trashy celebrity gossip from a glossy magazine. Nothing had worked. All she could think about was those sunlit fucks taking her son from her. Golden hands ripping her babe from her breast, whisking him away to another world, cutting him, and making a freak out of him.

"Don't lie to me, Daddy. Please."

He sighed and took his vest off. The black silk had so many emeralds attached to it that it had to have weighed as much as a suit of armor. He draped it across the back of the couch and rolled his shoulders.

"Well?" Annie demanded, surprised and pleased with herself for not being more distracted by his gorgeous body.

Whenever he didn't want to talk about something, he'd do this. Slowly, casually, undress in front of her. Rub the aches and pains out of his hard, smooth muscles, allowing her to watch as the steel cables rippled and flowed beneath his lightly bronzed skin. It usually worked. The graceful movements of his body were positively hypnotic. But this time, somehow, she more or less resisted their allure.

"Is it true?" she repeated.

Dull, green eyes bore into her, the light that they usually emitted strangely absent.

"Yes," he said at last.

Just like that.

He didn't bother to explain himself. Didn't tell her that it was necessary, that it was the true price they had to be pay for breaking the only rule their kind respected. He simply owned up to it and, with that dull, hard stare of his, dared her to question him.

"You can't," she said. "They're going to kidnap-"

"No one's kidnapping anyone," her father said. "Let's not get dramatic. It'll only-"

"NO," she said, raising her voice as much as she dared.

His eyes lit up at last. But Annie found, to her surprise, that their eerily beautiful glow no longer had the paralyzing effect on her they had once had. If she'd been a different mood, they'd still make her knees wobble. When she wanted them to make her melt, they delivered. Just now, though, with a steely determination, she resisted their power.

"Olivia went to Eric," she continued. "Told him that Kurt and Zoey are planning to use the arrangement to their own benefit. To dupe both you and their own court."

To her surprise, her father listened carefully as she told him the rest of what Mike had said. When Annie finished speaking, her father didn't say a word about the fact that she'd practically yelled at him. Nor did he ask how they knew that Eric hadn't made it all up. He feared his eldest son, Annie knew. It had taken her a while to see that. He hid it well. But it was definitely there. Her father was no less convinced than Gabriela was that Eric would be king one day. So it wouldn't have surprised her in the least if her father had seen a conspiracy to overthrow him in the story. He didn't though.

All he said was, "It won't be our child."

"Excuse me?"

"The lottery won't be random," he said. "I was always going to rig it. Even before I knew about this. What does it matter if whosever child is taken suffers a worse fate than we'd realized? Better that than-"

"Stop," Annie said, covering her ears. "Just stop."

Here she was, thinking he was going to prove himself to her. Convince her that he wasn't the man she laid awake at night fearing him to be, the man Aunt Nina tried to convince her that he was. That the father of her dreams and the man she lived with were in fact one and the same, no matter how many signs there were pointing to a darker truth. That it hadn't been wishful thinking when she'd seen flashes of nobility in him.

How could he say such a thing? Even if he didn't care in the least about the others, he had to know that she loved her brothers and sisters. That she would be horrified if one of her nieces or nephews was kidnapped. Did he expect her to just turn a blind eye to that, grateful that it wasn't their child?

"Sweetheart," he said, stepping over the back of the couch to sit beside her. He put a hand on her thigh. Annie wanted to recoil, but she wanted so badly to believe that he would make it all okay, and his reassuring touch seemed to promise that he would. "I know you're upset. That you care about your brothers and sisters."

There was a "but" coming. She braced herself.

"But you'll never love them as much as you do your own child," her father added. "And believe me when I say that-"

"I don't want to hear it," Annie said, turning away so that her father wouldn't see the tears in her eyes. "If you don't tell them that they have to leave, that no child of Summer will be sent away to the Eternal Garden, it'll be our child." Her voice grew stronger as she continued. "Fuck the lottery. I'll offer up our baby voluntarily."

"You wouldn't," he said.

Annie stared into those beautiful green eyes and didn't so much as flinch. "I would."

"I won't let you," he said. His voice was calm. Not the least bit threatening, for all that he clearly was issuing a threat.

"Stop me then," she spat. "Give your little princess a reminder that she's one of your subjects too, and that she oughtta be every bit as afraid of you as the rest of them are. Prove to me that all of your sweet words were just lies."

Her father hung his head, looking away.

Annie pressed a hand against his cheek. "You're not a monster, Daddy," she said.

"You said Eric told Mike these things?" he asked, without looking up at her. His tone was flat. Detached.

"Yeah," she said, her intonation rising as though it were a question.

He wasn't going to go there after all, was he? Insist that it was all some ruse, a pretense to overthrow him?

He father stood up. "We have to go."

"Why?"

"He'll be here soon."

"Who will?"

"Your brother," he said. "Well, both of them, probably, for all that it matters. And whoever else they can talk into backing them up." His voice dropped to barely a whisper as she said, slowly, "Flori too, probably."

Annie struggled to her feet. Her son would not arrive for another six weeks or so, and yet he already made the simplest of tasks difficult. "What do you mean?"

"They're not going to want to talk, baby," her father said, his voice trembling. That was probably supposed to be the beginnings of a laugh, but if so, it was one born of hysteria. "And I don't want to kill any of them," he added, sounding a little calmer. Almost like his usual self. "You'd never forgive me."

Her head was spinning. "Then don't! Just explain to them-"

He grabbed her by the shoulders. "Annie, honey, have you ever tried talking sense into Eric when his blood was running hot?"

She fell silent.

It wouldn't be like that, though. It didn't have to be, anyway. Her brother had changed a great deal over the past months. He wasn't the same stupid jock she'd grown up with. He'd listen. They could even work together to protect the court from whomever sought to punish their sins. What need was there of the Eternal Garden, if they stood as one against the rest of the Homelands?

Yet there was someone who couldn't be reasoned with.

Her father.

She'd never seen such fear before. Not in him, anyway. Compared to any other man, her father was a tower of iron and stone even as he trembled inside. If she couldn't read his Libido, she'd easily think it a passing reaction.

Was it for her sake? That of their child? Surely such a reaction was not caused by Eric. It was no secret that her brother had been training hard, growing ever stronger and deadlier, nor that his mother intended to see him sit the throne. But strong and ambitious though he might be, he still couldn't hold a candle to their father.

No, it was't her brother. The way he'd said her grandmother's name had said it all.

Her father feared her brother, yes. His son coveted his throne, and that worried him. But the abject terror she saw deep within her father's Libido was for her grandmother. The sweet little old lady with breasts the size of her head and hair shorter than most men's. The woman who'd come out of retirement when Annie had moved in with her father, apparently as a warning to him that he'd better not hurt her, yet who'd done relatively little since then besides eat her daughter's pussy morning, noon, and night. Annie had never seen her grandmother darken the sky, blocking out the sun with her claw and tail and wing. Had never even seen any indication that the woman was capable of harming a fly.

But, even so, she knew that Grandma Flori was powerful. That she'd seen more of the Homelands than the rest of them had, and learned much in her travels. That her name was still spoken in fear and awe by those old enough to remember.

She knew these things. They didn't necessarily make much sense though. Powerful and dangerous as her grandmother was supposed to be, how could anyone frighten her father so? He was fiery death made flesh. Destruction incarnate. A living war machine. He'd swallowed the previous king whole, and done worse since ascending the throne so as to ensure that everyone knew exactly who they were dealing with. They spoke his name in fear and awe as well. Many of his subjects refused to look him in the eye.

"I've got to warn Nina," her father said. All the emotion had left his voice, but not his emerald green eyes, nor his Libido.

"Let me talk to them," Annie said. "They'll listen to me."

Her father looked at her as if seeing her for the first time. With a nod, he said, "Yeah. That's a good idea. You stay here and tell them that I've abdicated the throne. That I don't want any bloodshed. They won't hurt you."

"What do you mean, `stay here'?"

"When you're done, come find me," he said, as if that was an acceptable answer.

Annie pressed her hands against her temples. Everything needed to slow down.

"We'll leave Summer together," her father continued. "You, me, Nina, and Troy." He paused for a moment. "Mike will want to stay here with Patty, I suspect. As he should."

What had happened to her fierce dragon? Who was this man who wanted to turn tail and run at the first sign of trouble?

But his Libido had changed already, Annie realized. The fear was gone. Or at least buried deep. He had no desire to stand his ground, believing that a fight with her grandmother was coming. But this wasn't a panicked response. He really was prepared to walk away from it all. To give up the throne he'd gone to such lengths to acquire.

So long as they could be together.

Annie's knees buckled. It wasn't anything like the dreams she'd continued to have even after she'd moved in with him. But it was still the most romantic thing that had ever happened to her. As close to a storybook ending as she could hope for. Though she very much hoped that it was not, in fact, an ending.

In a way, it was even better than her stupid, girlish fantasies. No one would get hurt. Yet there would be a noble sacrifice before they rode off into the sunset together. Well, she'd ride. He'd fly, of course. But that was close enough.

What had happened to her dragon? She'd tamed him.

"You won't leave without me?" she asked slowly, breathlessly.

"No, sweetie." He hugged her tight, burying his face in her hair and savoring the smell before planting a kiss atop her head. "I'll wait for you. Until the end of time, if I have to."

Annie breathed a sigh of relief.

She hadn't really doubted him, of course. There was nothing in his Libido that would give her cause to. It was just that, somewhere deep inside her, there was still the insecure little girl whose father had walked out on her. Had left her and her mothers and the rest of them so that he could be with his other family. Now he was going to go off somewhere to wait for her, and he'd be with his sister and their son. The very family that had made him leave before. A girl could find ways to be uncomfortable with that, if she was so inclined.

There was no need though. He said he would wait for her, and she believed him.

"I love you, Daddy."

"Love you too, princess," he said, kissing the top of her head again. Then he tilted her neck back and kissed her properly. As a man kisses a woman.

"We really have to leave Summer?" she asked after their lips parted.

He gave her a forlorn smile as he tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. "Haven't got a backup plan, let alone any insurance."

Right. Didn't matter that it might be possible to avoid bloodshed. And it was. He'd tacitly admitted as much. But if he stayed, he'd be taking a chance. And everyone knew her father didn't take chances.

"Okay," she said. "Go. I'll take care of it."

"I know you will," he said.

They stared into each other's eyes for a time. Annie tried not to let her father see how nervous she was. Tried not to let herself be nervous. It would all work out. Without anyone getting hurt. No reason to be anything but clam.

Her father kissed her again, long and deep. Annie's lips tingled, her head spun, and gravity forgot that she existed. For a few brief minutes, all was right with the world.

#

"You realize what this means, don't you?" Grandma Flori said, wiping the flour from her hands off with her apron.

"War," Veronica said.

Nick gave her a look that was just a hair shy of reproachful. Then, turning to their grandmother, he said, "We realize that he's unlikely to give in."

"And is Eric aware of that?" their mother asked, looking up from the cutting board.

No matter how long she lived in the Homelands, Veronica wasn't sure she'd ever get used to things like that. They were inside a dark and imposing castle that rested atop high cliffs, overlooking the sea. Yet, inside, it looked like they were in a modern, comfortably appointed, typical American home. Their mother and grandmother looked like inhumanly proportioned twenty-something sexpots. But they were going about making dinner, homemade pizzas, the same as they ever had. And on the other other hand, they were discussing the violent overthrow of a king who just so happened to be a dragon, and also just so happened to be her father. The incongruence of it all made her head spin.

"Yes, he is," Nick said almost defensively.

You'd think their mother had been questioning his grasp of the situation rather than that of their brother. Granted, Eric hadn't needed any convincing, and their mother shouldn't have needed to ask. But Veronica disliked the way her brother reacted. He was altogether too worked up about the whole situation. Nick made his best decisions when he was calm, cool, and collected. He was not the sort of guy who did well under pressure.

"Well," their grandmother said with a sigh. "I don't suppose we've any other option."

That took Veronica by surprise. They'd been convinced that they'd have to argue.

"If anyone can think of any, I'd love to hear them," Nick said.

Veronica ran a hand down his back. The thick muscles felt good, even with the fabric of his shirt standing between them and her fingers. She wished they didn't feel so tense though.

"We knew this day would come," Grandpa Randy said. He sat at the kitchen table, smoking his pipe. "From the moment he took the throne, we knew."

Grandma Flori nodded her agreement. Then her clothes changed abruptly. Her grandmother hadn't snapped her fingers or flicked her wrist or anything. Of course, any one of them could do the same. The little flourishes didn't really serve any purpose other than helping them believe that they were exerting supernatural influence over the world. Well, that, and helping others see it too. So it took Veronica by surprise to see the sundress and apron wink out of existence so suddenly, replaced by black cargo pants, combat boots, and a tight black T-shirt. Her grandmother looked like she was going to audition for a prominent role in a cheesy action movie. The kind where you're supposed to be so distracted by the heroine's big boobs that you don't realize how ridiculous the plot is.

"I think it's best if you all stay behind," the would-be action star said.

"Grams," Nick protested.

"Why should you go alone?" Veronica asked. "It's our children's lives that are at stake."

"And do you suppose they'll be any safer in a fight with a fire-breathing dragon?" her mother snapped. "Your grandmother knows what she's doing, Vee."

"I won't be alone," her grandmother said. "I'll bring Eric. From what I understand, that boy has learned a thing or two in the past few months."

Nick's eyes went wide and the color drained from his face.

Veronica knew right away what her brother was thinking. She wanted to hold him, too pull him to her breast and tell him that he was man enough the way he was, that there was no reason for him to be jealous of Eric. But now was not the time.

"I can't let you do that," Nick said.

"Don't be a hero, son," their grandfather said. "Your unborn child needs a father a whole lot more than your grandmother needs backup in a fight. Against the likes of your father and that sister of his, you won't be any help anyway." He blew out a puff of smoke. As if to underscore his point, it took the form of a dragon, right down to the wings. "I wouldn't be either, of course. Ain't no shame in that."

He was right, of course. But her brother didn't want to hear it.

She wished he would listen though. Images flashed through Veronica's mind. Shadows coming to life and ripping men apart. Knives and axes flying through the air, as fast as bullets. Men in uniforms spraying gunfire everywhere. Men in business suits wielding swords and snapping jaws. And, most of all, a ceiling caving in atop her brother as he stared at the bloody stumps that passed for his legs.

"Nick," she said. "We had enough trouble with those Bravo kids."

The wounded look he gave her then made her want to cry. Like she'd utterly betrayed him. Emasculated him in front of their mother and grandparents then held his bloody testicles up high for all to see.

"Have you ever shot a gun?" their grandmother asked.

"Can't say I have," Nick said, giving her a puzzled look. "Why?" As their grandmother's shadow rose up from the ground, he started to say, "There are other-"

Her shadow was suddenly a mere shadow once more.

"Against your father, you'll need more than parlor tricks," Grandma Flori said. "So happens I've got something you can use though. If you really insist on joining us."

"Mom," Nick and Veronica's mother said. "Is that wise?"

"Don't worry, dear," Grandma Flori said without taking her eyes of her grandson. "I won't let anything happen to your baby boy." Then, speaking to Nick as well as looking at him, she said, "I've only got the one weapon though." Her eyes drifted over to Veronica. "So only one of you is coming, if either of you are."

Nick turned to her too, asking her permission without speaking a word.

Veronica nodded.

She might hate herself for it later, if she had to watch him grow new limbs again, or worse. But she couldn't bear the thought of having him look at her again the way he had just a moment ago. He had to know that she believed in him.

Men and their fragile egos.

"Understood," he told their grandmother.

She studied him silently for a few moments before nodding to herself. "This way," she said, jerking her head towards the living room.

Veronica followed Nick, and their mother and grandfather trailed after her.

Time seemed to slow down. A storm of emotions raged within Veronica. Until recently, she'd been angry with Nick. She'd turned to their grandfather whenever she needed to get off, lest she allow her brother to believe even for a moment that she'd forgiven him. All because he hadn't been proactive enough in defense of their unborn child. Now he was preparing to slay a dragon for her, quite literally, and she wished he would just stay back and hold her in his arms while Eric and their grandmother did what needed to be done. It didn't make any sense, she knew. But she couldn't help feeling that way all the same.




Homelands Pt. 06 Ch. 05



"This is a family heirloom," their grandmother said as she took a wooden box down from the bookshelves, where it had sat beside crystal figurines and antique salt shakers and other knickknacks. "Your sister wore it once, but not a person in this room has ever fired it."

"Not even you?" Nick asked.

Their grandmother shook her head as she opened the box. Everyone fell silent. A soft creak filled the room as rusted old hinges did a job they were not often asked to perform. All the eyes in the room focused on the weapon House Hardt's matron produced.

It was beautiful.

But it didn't look, to Veronica's untrained eyes, any different than any other antique six-shooter. The grip was wooden and dull, the barrel black and shiny. There were no special decorations. No jewels. No rare metals. It was just an old pistol.

"By the time it was handed down to me, I had no use for it," Grandma Flori said.

"It is more than just a gun, right?" Nick asked.

Their mother let out a choked sob.

Grandma Flori shot her a look. When Grandpa Randy wrapped an arm around their daughter, she turned her attention back to Nick. "Yes. It's more than a gun, and it fires more than mere bullets. In the right hands, that's the least of its ammunition."

"I'm to pour my energy into it then?" Nick asked.

Their grandmother nodded. "Whatever you put in, two to three times that will come out the other end. So be careful."

"And this will...stop a dragon?"

"Maybe not stop," she replied. "But with enough juice behind it, you'll certainly get his attention. To say the least." Then, in a somber voice, she added, "But if you don't power it up, if its not firing anything but ordinary bullets, it might as well be a water gun as far as your father will be concerned."

A shudder ran down Veronica's spine.

Of course, she didn't think that her brother would be foolish enough to make the mistake of firing at their father without lending some of his own power to the attack. But the reminder that their father was as tough as he was made her feel queasy. Sure, few of their kind were ever likely to be taken out by ordinary firearms. She herself saw bullets as more of a nuisance than a threat. But that was because she didn't let them touch her. Their father probably wouldn't even notice if Nick did manage to tag him with that six-shooter, though. That was a different matter entirely.

"You sure you want to do this?" their grandmother asked, handing the pistol to Nick. She held it by the barrel, allowing him to take hold of the butt. "As Vee tried pointing out, your father's going to make those Bravo whelps seem no more dangerous than kittens."

"His sister's a force to be reckoned with too," their mother added.

"Shh, Jenny, stay out of it," Grandpa Randy said, smoothing his daughter's hair.

"She isn't," Grandma Flori confirmed, albeit in a tone that did less to imply that only a fool would consider going up against her. "But Hank's definitely the one to worry about."

"I'll keep an eye on her too," Nick said.

The casual way he said it, like he was assuring his mother that he'd remember to put on his sunscreen before going to the beach, made Veronica's throat go tight. If she demanded that he remain behind, he'd forgive her eventually, wouldn't he?

No. She couldn't do that to him. Besides, if their grandmother wasn't confident that she could keep him safe, she wouldn't allow him to go. She'd seen the hurt in Veronica's eyes, as well as her daughter's, when Nick lay in her cabin, convalescing. And, powerful as her grandmother was, he might hardly be in any danger at all.

Surely he understood how serious this all was far better than he was letting on too. He was probably just acting overconfident because he felt that the women in his life questioned his masculinity. But when push came to shove, and fire began raining down from the sky, he'd start thinking with his head again.

"So," Grandma Flori said, looking from Nick to her then back to her brother. "Guess this is the part where you kiss the mother of your child goodbye."

"And his own mother, too," said a forgotten voice from the couch. "Let's not forget her."

Veronica chuckled in spite of herself at that. Suddenly, she wanted to feel her mother's arms around her nearly as badly as she did her brother's. No one else would understand the fear she'd feel in the pit of her stomach each and every second that Nick was gone.

"Actually, Eric asked for some time to prepare," Nick said, scratching the back of his head. "I think that's another way of saying he wants to make love to Gabriela one more time. Which, knowing him, means we've got plenty of time to kill."

That made Veronica's pussy quiver.

But then, knowing their grandmother, she'd insist that they use any spare time they had to target practice. Probably blindfolded. No sense getting her hopes up then.

"I see," their grandmother said. "Well, it certainly wouldn't hurt to take in as much energy as you can bear to hold before we leave. Last thing you want is to find yourself in the middle of a gunfight with an empty Libido."

A huge sigh of relief passed through Veronica's lips before she even realized it. That earned a bemused grin from her grandmother.

"Empty Libido?" Nick asked, oblivious to the exchange his sister and grandmother had shared. "Do I even need to bring real bullets?"

"Wouldn't hurt," Grandma Flori said. "Though once you get the hang of it, they do more to help guide your focus than anything else." As she said that, she changed her clothes again. Her SWAT team getup faded into a translucent black babydoll, lacy garter, sheer black thigh highs, and fuck-me red leather heels. Turning to her daughter, she said, "Whaddaya say, Jenny? Think you can help me and your son top off before we go?"

Veronica looked to her mother eagerly.

"Sure," her mother said dryly. "Why the fuck not. Might be the last chance I ever get."

"Don't say that," Grandpa Randy said. "The boy'll be fine."

"Yeah, Mom," Nick said. "I'll be fine." Then, with a grin, he added, "Besides, if I lose a few limbs, at least I know a good doctor."

"That is not funny, young man," their mother said.

Veronica had to agree. She slapped her brother's ass to let him know that. Of course, that only amused him more. The big jerk.

So she decided to punish him properly.

As her grandfather unbuttoned her mother's silk blouse and her grandmother knelt between her daughter's legs, Veronica grabbed Nick's cock through his athletic shorts and squeezed it tightly enough that the tiniest bit of additional pressure would take them past the realm of mildly uncomfortable and into deeply painful.

"Careful, Vee," he said. "The goal is to avoid losing limbs, right?"

She gave him a sarcastic smirk. "On your back."

"If you'll let go of me," he said, looking ready to start sweating.

So Veronica released her brother.

With an awkward smile, he put the gun down on the coffee table, slowly undressed, and got down on the floor. There, as instructed, he laid flat on his back.

For a moment, Veronica marveled at how her brother's skin was nearly as dark as the stained wood beneath him. No darker than her own flesh, of course, but in her mind, the Hardt complexion looked much better on him.

Her eyes drank in his sleek yet masculine form. His muscles weren't nearly as developed as those of their grandfather, but he had incredible definition. Legs like that were too beautiful not to command respect, even if his quads could have afforded to be a bit bigger. And she'd never seen a nicer set of abs. The valleys between the eight hard peaks were ridiculously deep. She also liked that he wasn't as hairy as their grandfather. There was enough of the dark, curly stuff on him that she knew she was with a man when she was with her brother, but no one would ever mistake his happy trail for a pelt.

Best of all, he had an absolutely beautiful cock. The kind they ought to pattern sex toys after. His bulbous head always made the first few moments intensely pleasurable, almost unbearably so. The rest of him was the perfect thickness.

"You want me to put on a show for you?" he asked, stroking himself lazily. His one hand barely covered a third of his length. "Or are you going to join me?"

It was tempting to go with the former. Not only because she found it fascinating to watch her brother pleasure himself, but because the look of hunger in his eyes made it clear that he hoped her answer would be the opposite. And he deserved to suffer.

But she wanted to have him inside her every bit as much as he wanted to be there. Her body ached for him. Seeing him laid out before her reminded Veronica of how deeply attracted to her brother she was.

So she wasted no time in stripping out of her maternity dress. Taking a page from her grandmother's book, she willed the garment away, but didn't so much as bat an eye to assist her concentration. There, not there, just like that.

"God, you're beautiful," her brother said straight away. And his eyes focused on her stomach as he said it. Not the breasts she knew he loved, or the warm hole he was about to invade. But her baby bulge.

Blood rushed to Veronica's cheeks.

He told her that all the time. No less so of late than in the past, even though her stomach seemed more and more akin to a swollen watermelon with each passing day. Even though they'd been fighting and she rebuffed his every advance. And though part of her knew that he'd meant it every single time he'd said it, another part couldn't help thinking that he only said it to try to earn his way back into her good graces.

She certainly didn't feel beautiful lately. All she could think about most of the time was whether she'd be the first woman of their kind to develop stretch marks, or how fat she looked even in her maternity clothes.

But this time, she knew right away, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that her brother's words were utterly sincere. Whether it was the look in his eyes, the breathless tone of voice, the swell of his Libido, or the way he'd blurted it out before he could possibly have had time to think about it, she just knew. And that almost, almost made her feel as good as she apparently looked in Nick's eyes.

She straddled her brother's hips slowly, feeling nervous and aroused and sad and excited at the same time. Why did this have to feel like it was going to be their last time? Why couldn't she just think of it as their first in a while? It was that too, after all.

"You're going to be a wonderful mother," he told her as she descended. His hands went to her belly the way they once would have her breasts.

That sent shivers down her spine.

Her grandfather seemed to find her attractive in spite of the child visibly growing within her. With her brother, it wasn't quite the opposite, because he'd always found her attractive. It wouldn't make sense to say that he found her attractive because she was showing. But he did seem to find it appealing, and she liked that.

"And you're going to be a great father," she said, resting her hands on his hard chest. His pecs weren't the biggest ever, but they were like slabs of concrete. Solid as can be. That was almost as hot as the way he was looking at her. "So you'd better come back."

"I will," he said. "If I don't, you have my permission to paddle my bottom raw."

"Asshat," she said, tweaking one his nipples.

He laughed even as he shrieked in pain and surprise.

Finally, she guided his member to her inviting hole. As his thick helmet parted her lips and pressed against her inner muscles, she gasped. Her walls opened slowly and inch after glorious inch of her brother's divine rod slid inside her womb.

"Oooh, fuck, Nick," she said. "I've missed this."

He raised an eyebrow. "Um, you have?" he said.

She smiled wickedly at him.

Once he was all the way in, his pubic hair brushing her labia and clitoral hood, Veronica drew a deep breath and let out a contented sigh. It was fun, riding their grandfather. No doubt about it. He was a skilled lover and nicer to look at than any man had a right to be. He was also selfless and caring and handsome and just generally great.

But this, this was what she needed.

It was like everything else she experienced in between sessions with her brother was just a dream. Nothing was real but the fleeting moments spent with his manhood inside her. Those were the only times she experienced anything real.

"I love you so much," he whispered, letting his hands slide slowly over her distended abdomen, up to her swollen breasts. Tender though they were, they welcomed his touch. "We're going to spend eternity together."

"We'd better," she said, slowly beginning to rock her hips.

"We will. I prom-"

"Shh," she said, pressing a finger to his lips. "Don't promise me. Prove it to me."

He sucked gently on the tip of her finger, as though it were a nipple. Giggling, she took it away, sliding her hand across his face to run through his short hair.

Veronica closed her eyes and drank in the feel of her brother. His body was so hard. His scruffy hair brushed her fingers and his stiff cock stretched her pussy. He drained all the soreness from her breasts. In his hands, she felt no pain, no discomfort, only pure bliss. No one compared to Nick. It was like her mother had somehow crafted the perfect lover for Veronica before she'd even come into existence herself.

She might sometimes find him all kinds of infuriating, but all in all, she couldn't hope for a better lover. Not without setting herself up for disappointment.

Her first orgasm arrived soon after they began. But it was a modest little affair. Like a warmup more than a true climax. A tiny reminder of what it felt like to have her brother get her off. An aperitif.

"Gonna take more than that to prepare me for Dad," he said.

"Hush up your face," she said, covering his mouth, nose, and eyes with splayed fingers. "Can't a girl get some peace and quiet?"

Her brother laughed then reached back to give her bottom a playful smack.

The touch sent waves of pleasure through her body. She loved when he smacked her ass, whether it was playfully or forcefully. Any time he paid attention to her backside, really, she got excited. It was the part of her body he liked the least. Not, perhaps, the one she did. That would be either her stomach or her inner thighs. But she knew that her brother wished her ass was bigger, rounder, firmer and yet fatter too. That made no real sense to her, but she supposed it meant that he wished her backside looked more like their mother's. Or Patty's. He did his best to hide it, but his best wasn't very good. So whenever he behaved as if he couldn't keep his hands off it, her juices started flowing freely.

"That's it," her brother said, his voice muffled by the palm that was still pressed against his face. "Ride me good. Use me as a fuck-stick. Make me your flesh-and-blood dildo."

His words took her breath away.

On the one hand, she wanted to insist that she'd do no such thing. That she'd never see him as a mere object. On the other, the very idea of him asking her to do so, giving her permission to reduce him to a living sex toy, was a huge ego trip. She felt powerful. Desirable. In control. He was so hot for her, she could get him to agree to anything. Did it matter that she couldn't think of anything she wanted from him that he wouldn't enjoy himself? Not in the least. If only as a symbolic gesture, his submission did more to speed the arrival of her second climax than anything he could do to her physically might have.

In fact, with that in mind, she went out on a limb and pictured a ball gag in her brother's mouth. And a moment later, there it was. A red ball held stretched his jaws wide. The leather cord attached to it looked like it belonged in a mechanic's garage.

Nick's eyes opened in surprise, but then Veronica felt an entirely different reaction in his Libido, and she knew that he approved.

Emboldened by that, she started to go wild. Her hips worked furiously. She impaled herself on her brother's huge dick, retreated, then immediately slid back down his pole. Meanwhile, she groped him, dug her nails into the skin of his shoulders or wrists or upper arms, and occasionally rained slaps down on his hard chest, abusing him the way she'd ordinarily abuse their mattress. If her swollen abdomen hadn't prevented it, she'd have leaned down and bit his neck. Hard. As it was, she spent most of her time leaning back, relieving her poor muscles of the task of supporting her child's weight.

All the while, Nick's hands made love to her body. His touch was tender. He cupped and caressed more often than he squeezed or slapped. Though he did enough of that to remind her that she had a real, live man beneath her, however much she was using him like a toy. A man who burned with desire for her. Who couldn't get enough of her.

Her second orgasm was one of the most enjoyable she'd ever experienced.

It left her breathless and dizzy for several minutes afterwards. And, of course, the metaphysical emptiness that came from half the contents of her Libido draining into her brother didn't even go away then. But she wouldn't take it back if she could.

Nick smiled up at her, his hands slowly and lazily sliding over her breasts and stomach. If it bothered him that she still hadn't removed the ball gag, he didn't let on in any way.

Then her brother's eyes focused on something above and behind her.

Veronica started to turn around even before he tapped her on the shoulder.

"May I?" her grandfather asked.

She grinned naughtily. "Please do."

A tap of her finger freed her brother's mouth. "You don't mind sharing, do you?"

Though he was now free to speak, Nick answered her question with a simple shake of his head. He worked his jaw back and forth silently, as if fighting a cramp. Or trying to remember what it felt like to have freedom of movement there.

It was as good a DP as she'd ever enjoyed. And she'd come to enjoy them a great deal. Her brother filled her pussy perfectly, as if she was a lock and he was the key. Her grandfather was the only man Veronica had ever met who was nearly as considerate a lover as her brother. He didn't go any easier on her than she wanted. When she really started to get into it and demanded that he give it to her good, he did just that. But early on, when she was still trying to get comfortable, he was perfect. Didn't push too hard, and slowed down the moment she started to tense up even a little, without needing her to ask him to do so. His thick cock, just a little slimmer than her brother's, was the perfect size for her back door. So it was that Veronica reached her third, and most intense, climax while riding her brother and getting fucked in the ass by her grandfather.

That left her completely drained. After the three of them disentangled themselves, she and her grandfather retreated to the couch. At that point, her mother and grandmother, who had been sixty-nining, got up and went to join Nick. Veronica had her grandfather sit down while she laid on her side with her head in his lap and slowly sucked on the tip of his cock like it was a lollipop. He even took a few inches off its length so it would be easier for her to get it in her mouth without having to lift her head up out of his lap. She fellated him without urgency, focusing more on keeping him constantly aroused, hovering just below the brink of an orgasm, than actually trying to get him off.

All the while, they watched as first one, then two, then three Nicks made sweet love to his mother and grandmother.

Veronica had never seen a man wearing three bodies at once. Her grandmother had told her it was possible, and she suspected that someone like her father could do it, but she'd never have thought to see that from her brother. It made her wish she had the energy to get down there and join them. Or hog all three of him to herself.




Homelands Pt. 06 Ch. 06



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Author's note

As ever, if you have questions feel free to email me or leave a comment. Either way, I'll try to respond in a timely manner.

This is primarily an incest story, but it is also sci-fi/fantasy, and supernatural elements are not incidental to the plot. Additionally, many chapters will feature elements of other categories, particularly group sex and anal.

All sexual acts are consensual and involve parties who are at least eighteen years of age.

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"Bull-fucking-shit," Patty said, stomping her foot.

"Pattycakes, this is going to be-"

"Don't you dare tell me it's going to be dangerous," she said, cutting her brother off.

Eric looked to Nick for backup. Much to Patty's satisfaction, he found none.

"We already went over this," Eric continued.

"That was when we were talking about dad," she said. "If there's to be a fight with Kurt and his bitch of a mother, I'm going to be there. No fucking way I'm sitting that one out."

Mike grabbed her hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. The poor guy had probably never heard her curse so much. And the anger she was expressing towards her cousin wouldn't go unnoticed either. Anyone who vehemently insisted that they were over their ex, who still got mad whenever their name came up, was obviously lying. At least, that was how she'd always understood it to work among mortals. Maybe it was any different for their kind. Or maybe the fact that her cousin planned to kidnap and abuse and brainwash and castrate one of their children made some difference. She wasn't sure. But either way, she doubted that this was easy for him to hear.

Still, her brother and newfound lover said not a word. Just silently offered her his moral support. And for that, she wanted to kiss him.

Her other brother, the one with whom she shared not one but two parents, pressed a hand to the back of his head and heaved a great sigh. "I understand how you feel-"

She punched him right in the gut.

He might have stood more than a foot taller than her, and might have weighed more than two and a half times what she did, but she put a lot of oomph behind the blow, throwing all of her modest weight and most of her considerable energy behind it. Her tiny little fist connected with hard abs that suddenly felt very little like steel.

"You understand nothing," she said to Eric as he doubled over and gasped for air. "And I'm coming with you. That's final."

"Fine," he choked out.

She stared at him, searching for some indication that he was only humoring her. Finding none, she gave herself a satisfied nod.

Patty might not train as hard or as often as Eric, and even Nick had more experience than her putting their powers to use in a fight. Naturally, she couldn't begin to compare to Flori on any relevant dimension. None of the others were pregnant either. Even so, she felt she had something to add, and not just her fury. Though she'd never felt the need to throw it around, she had more raw power than most of her brothers and sisters. Back before they'd entered the Homelands, she and Veronica had practiced using their abilities for all sorts of stupid little things, and she'd always had to hold back, lest she embarrass her sister.

Granted, neither Kurt nor Zoey were weak. Especially the latter. But even so, Patty knew she'd be more useful than her brother was prepared to admit. He kept trying to make it sound like she'd do nothing but get in the way. That they didn't need any more firepower anyway. As if. He might have gone all badass lately, and everyone knew that Flori used to play in the big leagues, but neither Nick nor Mike, who insisted that if she was going then so was he, counted for all that much. And Zoey was hella powerful. If not stronger than Flori, certainly in the same league.

Making a poor attempt to hide his amusement, Nick said, "She could come in handy."

Patty gave him a grateful nod.

"I said okay, didn't I?" Eric said as he stood back up, one hand still pressed to his abdomen as if afraid his viscera would come spilling out otherwise.

"Knew you'd see reason," Patty said, going up on tiptoes to kiss Eric on the cheek.

"Yeah, yeah," he mumbled in response.

Mike put a hand on her shoulder, as if to say, "Enough gloating." She was tempted to give him a piece of her mind, but he didn't deserve it. By rights, he should have left with Troy and their mother. Right up until the very last moment, she'd been afraid that he might do just that. Hell, even Annie was abandoning them, and she'd counted them as family her entire life. She and Mike had only just met.

Of course, part of her had known he'd stay. That he was the man for her, as surely as Eric belonged with their mother or Nick with Veronica. That she'd finally found what she'd been looking for, foolishly, in her stupid cousin.

The gesture wasn't welcome, but it was certainly forgivable.

"Are we done then?" Flori asked, finally looking up from her fingernails, which were apparently fascinating. "In my day, these things didn't take all day."

Nick gave her a sly grin. "And you walked to school, uphill both ways?"

"Of course," Flori replied.

"Lead on, wise one," Eric told her, his blue eyes still warily regarding Patty, as if fearing that she might try to sneak in another sucker punch.

And, with that, they were off.

The Temple of the Sun was gone. In place of a squat, beautiful structure, there was now an imposing and hideous fortress. Where once there had been a grassy hill leading up to the temple, there was now row upon row of barbed wire fences and spiked pits. 

"I'm guessing they're not interested in chatting calmly over tea," Nick said.

Eric shot him an impatient glare.

In spite of herself, Patty found herself grinning. Her nerves were shot and she was ready for war, but she envied her brother's ability to retain his sense of humor at a moment like this. That it was Nick cracking jokes while Eric chewed a mouthful of nails would once have struck her as incredibly ironic. But for some reason, now, it seemed perfectly fitting.

Beside her, Mike had rediscovered his inner dragon. He looked exactly as he had the day she'd first met him. Part of her that found it hard to think about anything other than how irresistibly sexy her dragon was. Lean and fierce and exotic, green and beautiful, he was a wonder to behold. But she forced herself not to see him not just as her lover, but as a fearsome beast. To realize that his scales and claws might be good for something other than helping otherwise innocent girls feel naughty in bed. That he might just use them to rip her cousin's throat out.

The thought made her feel cold. But not sad.

Perhaps it should have. Kurt had once been a decent guy. He'd just somehow got lost along the way. Corrupted by his grandfather's seductive promises of power and greatness, reinforced as they were by his dear mother. But she couldn't bring herself to feel sorry for him. Not now that she knew what he was willing to do to the child growing inside her.

With a thought, Patty prepared herself for battle as well. One moment, she was wearing a simple sundress, the next she looked very much like a Valkyrie. Or what she imagined the mythical warrior women to look like. Unnaturally light yet impossibly strong armor covered her lower legs, forearms, shoulders, and torso. A skirt of chain mail hung about her thighs, the touch of the cool metal feeling strangely soft and weightless against her skin, almost as if it were silk rather than steel. Her breast plate went up to her neck, unlike the absurdly provocative things women always wore on the covers of the fantasy novels Veronica loved so much. Its shaped molded to her figure, accommodating both her full breasts and her baby bulge. Her blonde hair hung down her back in a thick braid and she wore a winged helmet on her head. In one hand, she held a short, thick sword. In the the other, she carried a long, thin spear whose tip was covered in frost.

"Everyone ready?" Eric asked, looking over his shoulder. "Nick, aren't you gonna-"

Fireballs rained down from the sky like hail stones. Some were no bigger than ice pellets, while others rivaled volleyballs. Nick melted into the shadows and rose back up into the light a dozen yards back, out of range of the fiery assault. Eric rushed to Flori's side, as if to protect her, while she in fact sheltered him. With every flick of her wrist, another fireball fizzled away, leaving nothing but a wispy tendril of smoke to mark its passing. She couldn't possibly move fast enough to clear the skies, but none of the flaming missiles landed anywhere near her or Eric.

For his part, Mike wrapped his arms around Patty, crouching over her protectively, and absorbed the onslaught as though it were no more than a light rain. Indeed, from the sound of it, the fireballs didn't scorch his scaly hide so much as patter against it.

Suddenly, the ground rumbled, and a great fissure opened up. As it stretched apart, a stone tunnel rose up from its depths. Only then did Patty realize that it wasn't another attack, but Flori's way of offering them safe passage up to the temple.

The five of them rushed up through the dark passageway, led by Eric and Flori. Long as it had looked from the outside, as only befit the height of the hill they had to climb, it only took them a few seconds to emerge from the far end.

Unfortunately, once they stood at the foot of the fortress, they found that it was impregnable. There were no entrances or windows or openings of any kind. She hadn't expected it to be easy to get inside, but she had assumed that it would be possible.

Meanwhile, the fireballs continued to rain down on them. Flori had little enough trouble neutralizing them, but the effort of keeping four of them safe took all of her attention. Someone else would have to figure out what to do next.

"Allow me," Mike said.

With a swift punch that Patty might have expected to crash through wood, but nothing sturdier, her lover smashed a hole in the wall big enough to drive a Mac truck through.

Inside, the courtyard looked the same as it had before. The sun shone more brightly than it did outside, its rays reflecting strongly off the gold beneath their feet.

Before she had an opportunity to survey the scene, her aunt ran her lover through with one of those huge, flaming swords the sunlit folk were so fond of.

Just ran him right through.

Fire might not be a threat to a dragon, but cold steel was another story entirely. The flaming tip of Zoey's sword burst out Mike's bike, a crimson spray preceding it. Time slowed, and Patty watched the sharp tip climb out her lover's back in slow motion. Her throat seized up and her eyes went wide with terror.

"Nooo!" she yelled.

Zoey whirled, smiled at Patty, and leapt into the air. Great white wings beat against the air, and the wretched beast flew farther and farther out of reach.

For all the good it would do, Patty launched her spear at the bitch. Unsurprisingly, it arced through the air so far abreast of its target that Zoey didn't even need to deflect it, which she no doubt could have done easily anyway.

A quick glance about the courtyard revealed that the woman who had shoved a sword straight through her lover was but one of four Zoeys. Four.

She'd seen her brother split himself in two many times before. Both of her brothers. And though she'd never felt the need to do so, she felt confident that she could manage the feat as well, come to that. But doing so in the bedroom, while surrounded by eager lovers, was very different from dividing your consciousness in the midst of battle. Nonetheless, Eric indeed had split himself in two.

What good was that, anyway, against someone wearing four bodies? How were they to stand any chance?

Turning her back to the carnage, she bent over the father of her unborn child. The blade was still in his chest. He clutched at the handle pitifully. Glassy eyes looked up at Patty, and blood-spattered lips moved wordlessly.

She grabbed his hand. "You'll be okay," she insisted.

Assuming they settled this soon enough, that might even be true. Her dragon's wound was worse than the one she'd heard Flori had healed for Nick. But the woman was practically the goddess all the women of their kind imagined themselves to be. Surely someone as powerful as her could save Mike.

If there was still anything left to save.

If she herself survived that long.

It was no fair. She shouldn't have to keep fighting. To remain strong. Shouldn't have to do anything but hold her lover in her arms, to give him a reason to keep living. Or at least to be there for him in his final moments, should that prove to be his fate.

Fair had no place in the Homelands though. And the only hope her dragon had was for them to put an end to this quickly.

Patty kissed Mike on the forehead, conjured up a shield for her free hand, turned, and studied the chaos surrounding her.

Two Erics squared off against one of the other Zoeys, and Flori lobbed various magical assaults at the others. Every now and then, though, the matron of House Hardt took the opportunity to defuse some attack one of the Zoeys hurled at one of them. She wasn't throwing everything she had against the sunlit woman, because she was too busy trying to keep her grandson and his brother and sister alive.

Nick was at other end of the courtyard, battling Kurt, who also wielded a flame sword. Nick danced about, fading in and out of the shadows, taking the occasional slice at Kurt with an immaterial blade.

Hopeless.

It had been a mistake for them to come here. If Eric and Flori had come alone, the latter wouldn't need to devote so much effort to shielding her young companions. She might have been able to engage Zoey head on, and prove to them all why she had the reputation that she had. As it was, watching the woman toss off, and turn aside, magical attacks so quickly left Patty breathless. But she wasn't doing much more than leveling the playing field. Keeping Zoey preoccupied. It was up to them to finish this. 

Patty conjured up a shield for her free hand and charged the nearest angelic she-demon.

Her aunt turned to meet her approach, raising her great sword high above her head.

Pouring as much energy as she could into the shield, Patty raised it high to block the blow. Her aunt was stronger than her in both the physical and metaphysical sense, and her blade itself was nearly as tall as Patty was. But somehow, the shield not only deflected the attack, but did so without jarring Patty numb. If Zoey had been wilding a pen knife, it might not have bothered Patty any less.

A dozen spiked balls suddenly rushed down at Zoey from behind. Or, started to. The sunlit woman drew herself up to her full height and her golden eyes rolled back inside her head. The death spheres came to a dead stop, suspended motionless in midair.

Patty couldn't help but stare in awe for a moment. Not since she'd first set foot in the Eternal Garden of the Sun had Patty been so overwhelmed by the stunning displays of supernatural power surrounding her.

But it was only for a moment. Then she remembered that the woman before her had ruined her hopes of finding happiness with Kurt, and might well have slain her dragon as well. And if she had her way, she'd kidnap Patty's child and turn him into a lifeless abomination.

The sword parted Zoey's flesh so easily.

It almost took Patty by surprise. She'd thrown everything she had left into the blow, but even so, she'd nearly expected to discover that driving her blade into her aunt's gut was no easier than burying it in a golden statue would have been. But, in the end, Zoey proved to be flesh and blood, the same as the rest of them.

That might or might not have been the fatal blow. If nothing else, though, the shock and pain of it distracted Zoey long enough that all of the attacks targeted at the other Zoeys by Flori and the two Erics met with zero resistance. All four Zoeys collapsed at once. Then all but one of them shimmered and faded away, leaving a single bloody heap at Patty's feet. Crimson blood pooled in the cracks of the golden paving stones.

Kurt stared in horror at his mother's body.

A shadowy axe blade, the size of a small car, fell upon him. And passed through him as harmlessly as his mother's fireballs had fizzled against Mike's skin.

He didn't even bother glancing over his shoulder at Nick. Just leapt into the air, flapping his wings furiously, and then shot back down, plummeting towards Patty like a human javelin. His sword was headed straight for Patty's belly. For her unborn child.

She ought to have dove away. Or teleported to safety. But all she did was bring her shield up and pour what little energy she had left, which was next to none, into it.

If Olivia hadn't finally stepped out from the marble column she'd been hiding inside, Kurt no doubt would have taken Patty's life, or the one growing inside her.

#

Eric was still stunned by their triumph over Zoey when he saw Kurt lunge at Patty. It happened entirely too fast for him to react. The enraged sunlit youth launched himself through the air like an arrow shot from a bow, determined to avenge his mother's death.

Just as a panicked realization of what was about to happen set in, his cousin showed up.

Or, rather, made her presence known. She'd apparently been there all along, hiding inside one of the marble columns. Probably unbeknownst to even her mother and brother.

Briefly, he'd wondered where she was. Why she'd abandoned him after leaving him with the impression that she'd be there for him. In the heat of battle, though, he'd forgotten all about his beautiful, frightened cousin.

With a sword identical to the ones Zoey and Kurt wielded, Liv cleaved her brother in twain. Cut him right in half, spraying blood and viscera all over the courtyard.

Patty looked up tentatively over the brim of her shield, as if unable to believe that she was still alive. Then her eyes took in the sight of her cousin, or what was left of him, splayed out across the gold floor. She dropped her shield, bent over, and retched.

For his part, Eric was to relieved to see that they'd come through it okay, that they'd not only prevailed but done so without taking any casualties, to let himself be bothered by the sight. He'd never seen a body severed in two before, never considered the way a flaming sword might instantly cauterize even the most grievous of wounds. And he hoped never to do so again. But all of that could sink in later.

He ran across the courtyard and snatched Olivia up in a bone-crushing hug, whirling her around as though she weighed no more than a child.

She didn't laugh in delight the way he somehow expected her to though. In fact, Olivia looked like she too might vomit.

Eric set her down, apologized, and rained kisses on her. She stumbled away, propping a hand against her marble hiding place, and stared at her feet. But she kept the contents of her stomach inside, where they belonged.

Just then, Patty let out a shriek and ran across the courtyard to where Mike lay wounded.

"Shit," Eric said under his breath. He'd forgotten all about their new brother.

No casualties indeed.

"You have to help him!" Patty yelled at Flori, who was already rushing over.

As was Nick, of course, for all the good he'd do. Whenever any of the women he thought of as his were in need, he went running, whether he could help or not.

"He'll be alright, right?" Liv asked, slipping up against Eric's side. A slender hand hooked around his waist and she rested her head on his shoulder. "Tell me he'll be alright."

The repetitive sounds pouring out of his cousin's mouth jarred him. Was she in shock?




Homelands Pt. 06 Ch. 06



"If anyone can help him, it's Flori," Eric replied.

That wasn't quite what she wanted to hear, but he refused to lie to his cousin. He couldn't possibly know for sure that Mike would be okay. But it was true that he couldn't possibly be in more capable hands than those of Nick's grandmother.

"What just happened?" she asked. "I can't believe I just-"

"Shh," Eric said, wrapping an arm around her narrow shoulders.

As they watched Flori ply her talent, Liv sobbed softly.

The courtyard dimmed and the air grew thick and heavy, hard to breathe. Like sludge. It only lasted a moment, but for a brief instant, Eric had thought they were under attack again, until he realized that what he was feeling was the sudden shift of the courtyard's supernatural center of gravity. Flori poured more energy into Mike in the blink of an eye than Eric might ever wield, and the world noticed.

No one spoke. Nor so much as drew a breath.

"That's it?" Patty squeaked at last. "Why isn't he moving?"

"He will, dear," Flori said. "He's just tired. More tired than you'll ever be. The body isn't meant to go through so much in so short a time. Not even our bodies."

"But he's okay?" Patty asked.

Flori nodded. "In a few days, though, it'll be like it never even happened."

"Won't even have a scar," Nick said as he put a hand on his grandmother's shoulder.

"See?" Eric told Olivia. "Everything's fine."

She stared back at him like he'd just asked her how she'd enjoyed the movie or something equally ludicrous and out of left field.

Right. Of course everything wasn't fine.

The poor girl had just killed her brother, right after watching him kill her mother. Well, him or Flori or maybe Patty. It was hard to say who exactly had struck the killing blow, what with there being so many Zoeys. Either way, though, things most definitely were not fine. His cousin might understand that what they'd done had been necessary. Might, in time, make her peace with it. But just then, the world must have felt like it was ending.

He probably ought to have felt the same himself. Taking a life should never be easy, especially that of your aunt. He'd loved her, the same as he had his uncle and all his family, growing up. Later, after discovering who and what they are, he'd also had the hugest crush on her. For the longest time, he'd had no interest in anyone but Olivia and her statuesque mother. Every time he'd go over Liv's house, he'd hope that today would be the day that Aunt Zoey would finally take more interest in him.

But he'd had no choice.

It was as simple as that.

Or perhaps he was a bit stunned himself. The true weight of what had just happened might hit home later. When the adrenaline and supernatural energy faded from his system.

"I...I should go," his cousin said, voice devoid of all emotion.

"Where?" Eric asked.

With that, Olivia burst out in tears. They didn't stream down her cheeks, as they had a moment ago. They gushed. Like blood had from her mother's forehead when Eric had buried his sword halfway into her skull.

Fuck.

Drawing a deep breath, he picked Liv up, one arm under her shoulder blades and one her knees. Then he teleported them back to the villa on House Moody's private island.

His mother wasn't pleased to see her, at first. After he explained that Olivia had saved Patty's life, though, Gabby softened up. She didn't even question him when he led Olivia upstairs and created a new bedroom for his cousin, nor when he took her inside and closed the door behind them. Just stood at the end of the hallway, watching, a disappointed but accepting look on her face.

Bringing his cousin to live with them didn't mean that he was any less in love with his mother, or that she'd have to fight for his attention now. There was only room for one woman in his heart. But Liv had no one left. Her father, mother, and brother had all been taken from her. Where was she to go? Back to the grandfather she hardly knew and didn't much care for? No, he and his mother and sister were her only real family now. She was, after all, still a Moody. No one could deny her that now.

Come what may, Eric would take care of her. If the ancients somehow got word of the role Olivia had played in the downfall of their temple, they'd have to go through him to exact their revenge. And if anyone in Summer said that she couldn't be trusted, that she be sent back to the Eternal Garden, they too would have to contend with him.

"Just leave me alone," she said to him, burying her face in a pink pillow.

"Liv," he said, stroking her back. "You did what you-"

"GO," she said. Then, peeking up at him out of the corner of a blood-shot eye, she added, "I appreciate the thought. And this. But right now, I want to be alone."

Eric nodded. He smoothed her hair out, kissed the back of her head, and left her.

"Where is Patty?" his mother asked when he slipped back out into the hall. Her tone was merely curious. If she took offense at him making his cousin a priority when he still hadn't told her everything that had happened, it didn't show.

Could a guy ask for a more perfect woman?

So he explained what had happened to the young dragon, and everything else besides. As best as he could remember it, anyway.

"What now?" his mother asked when he was done.

Eric drew a deep breath. "I don't know."

"We need a new king," his mother observed, trying ever so hard to sound casual about it. Just an offhand remark.

Sometimes, he thought she believed that it was his destiny to be king. Like it be spitting in the eye of fate for him to refuse. It was flattering, to be sure, but it was also a lot of pressure. He hated the idea of disappointing her, but even more so, he hated the idea of taking power simply because he could.

"Or a queen," he said.

"Me?" his mother asked, draping a hand over her breast. "I really think you'd be better."

"I meant Flori."

His mother's went wide for a moment. Then her lips narrowed. "I see."

"Ma," Eric said, taking her hand in his, "Don't do that."

Gabby sighed and pressed a hand to his chest. "My little boy has really grown up."

Was she thinking again about how much he reminded her of Wes? Of Hank?

Lately, he himself couldn't help but think of his two father figures. Ever since he'd noticed her comparing him to them, which she probably thought he didn't know about. He had much to learn from them both, but he was also aware of their flaws.

Neither of them would take the throne. His uncle wouldn't do so even if he was the best man for it. His father would also back Flori, given the circumstances. Then he'd humbly offer to serve as Shadow, only to use the position for his own purposes. Neither of those were examples worth following. But the fact that neither of them would make the decision for the right reasons didn't make it the wrong decision.

"You know as well as I that she's the best candidate," he continued, though his mother had already effectively backed down. "That the court is still in danger, because of our little Debbie and the other purebred children. We need someone strong, someone experienced, someone with a level head, to steer us through the coming storm."

She gave him a wan smile. "You're right."

"I'm sorry," he said.

His mother laughed awkwardly. "What, for not being power-hungry? No need to apologize, baby. If it's meant to happen, it'll happen. Someday. In the meantime, we need someone the world will hesitate to go up against. Somene just like Flori."

"She really is-"

"I know. That wasn't meant to sound sarcastic," Gabby said in an unnecessarily patient tone. Like she was talking to a child.

He drew a deep breath. It certainly didn't sound like she was arguing. But there was unmistakeable disappointment in her Libido. Understandably so. Eric wasn't in love with the idea of stepping aside either. Of course he liked the idea of calling himself king.

The court needed someone else though.

If she asked, he'd gladly serve as Shadow. And not the way his father had served Phil. It wouldn't be Flori that Eric would serve, but the First Court of Summer.

Eric and his mother stared into each other's eyes for a few moments. When a bemused smile spread across Gabby's lips, he chuckled at himself.

Then kissed her deeply.

Lust began to well up within him. All of a sudden, he needed to make love to his mother. To look up at her as she rode him, admiring her unrivaled beauty. To grab her swollen breasts and drink their milk. To feel his baby girl kicking inside her mother. His mother.

But there would be time enough for that later.

Lest he succumb to the desire that burned within him even more intensely at that moment than usually did, Eric pushed his mother away. Gently.

"We need to go talk to the Hardts," he said.

Gabby nodded.

"I love you, Mom," he added, for no other reason than because it was true.

She smiled. "I love you too, baby."

#

Her grandmother looked amazing as she walked barefoot down the stony shoreline. A cool breeze whipped her black robe about her voluptuous figure and played with hair that was only a little longer than it had been ever since Veronica had first glimpsed her true appearance. The silver diadem encircling her forehead was decorated with seashells rather than precious stones, and apart from it, her grandmother wore no jewelry or accessories.

She looked every inch the queen.

It was high time the court was ruled by a woman too, so far as Veronica was concerned. Perhaps, at long last, it would know peace.

All of Summer had come to witness her ascension to the throne. Hardts stood shoulder to shoulder with not only Moodys, but what remained of House Bravo as well. The members of the lesser houses stood farther back form the shore, but they too had come to see the new queen. Only the Fishers were missing. It wasn't clear, though, whether Summer still counted that once noble house among its ranks.

No one spoke until she reached them. Nor afterwards, save when their turn came to bend the knee, kiss her feet, and swear fealty.

The whole affair passed Veronica by in a matter of moments. Or so it seemed. She remembered going to her knees, kissing her grandmother's feet, and speaking the words. She remembered watching Nick and her mother and grandfather do the same. Then there was a blur as the rest of the court followed suit. Before she quite realized it, the ceremony was over. A tented pavilion appeared out of nowhere. Within, they found picnic tables with all manner of food and drink spread out upon them.

Except this was part of the ceremony too.

It wasn't scripted. There were no rules about what they were to say, who they were to kiss, or where they were to kiss them. But, by ancient custom, they would all offer up their energy to the queen. A great orgy would soon take place, every man and woman in the court singing Flori's praise with their bodies. Their new ruler would move among them, stopping every so often to take a fresh lover, until she'd drank her fill.

Veronica's spine tingled. As did other parts of her.

Under different circumstances, she'd think the practice abhorrent. Say, if she'd been there for Phil's coronation. When her father had taken the throne, it had struck her as both incredibly patriarchal and yet wickedly exciting. Now, it seemed almost wholesome. As beautiful as any celebration of monarchic rule could be. It was like the Homelands might finally prove to be the magical land that Patty had been convinced it would be, back before either of them had first set foot on Summer's shore. Perhaps she'd been wrong to assume that her sister's visions of paradise were childish and unrealistic. And perhaps that feeling would last beyond this afternoon too, now that her grandmother, as wise and kind and just a woman as she'd ever known, was to rule.

True, Grandma Flori had already pledged to step aside and allow Eric to take over once the crisis passed. It was with great reluctance had she agreed to serve at all, and only then if Eric agreed to serve as Shadow. But many who assumed power in times of crisis changed their minds once they got a taste of power. Perhaps her grandmother would be the same.

Unfortunately, though, she didn't think her grandmother was the type.

Her brother would likely be a good enough king. Better than their father, at any rate. But Veronica couldn't help thinking that it was only under her grandmother that the Homelands might become the fairy tale her sister had dreamed of.

"Strange, not having Annie here to see it," Patty said.

Veronica pulled herself out of her reverie. "Yeah, it is," she said. "I wonder where she is. Where dad took her. You think she's happy?"

Mike slipped up beside them, snuck an olive off Patty's paper plate, and popped it in his mouth. While still chewing, he said, "My mother's no doubt trying her patience, but only because she's jealous of the obvious fact that Dad loves Annie more than he's ever loved anyone in his whole life."

Patty smiled and said, "Awwww."

"You think he really does?" Veronica asked.

Mike shrugged. "Could be wrong. He's not an easy man to read. But, yeah, if I had to guess, I'd say so." He cleared his throat then added, "I mean, who could blame him? Annie's clearly the hottest of his daughters."

"Hey!" Patty said, digging an elbow in their brother's gut.

Mike laughed as he wiggled away from the clumsy blow. "Watch it! Still tender."

"Bullshit," Patty said, pressing her hand against his chest. "You've been fine for days."

Veronica smiled whimsically to herself. It was good to see them laughing and teasing each other. For a while there, Patty had been every bit as distraught as she herself had been when Nick had been wounded. Perhaps even more so. She didn't know whether Annie had found true love in the arms of their father, but, against all odds, Patty sure seemed to have in the younger dragon. The idea of falling that deeply in love with someone she'd just met struck Veronica as crazy. It had taken her years to admit to herself that she was in love with Nick. But she couldn't deny that, looking at them, the two seemed perfect for each other.

As perfect as she sometimes liked to think she and Nick were for one another.

She glanced over his shoulder to the picnic table their mother sat at. Nick stood behind her, giving her a back rub. Despite his magic hands doing what they did best, their mother looked every bit as tense as she had since Grandma Flori had agreed to take the throne.

That image perfectly captured everything she loved and hated about her brother at the same time. He was so sensitive, so mindful of the needs of others. Lots of others. Was it so wrong for her to think that he should only be that way with her?

On the other side of the pavilion, Eric was giving his mother a back rub too. But unlike Nick, Eric had room in his heart for only one woman. Gabriela alone could know that he would tend to her every need. Sure, he took other lovers. Especially Patty and Olivia. But they all did that. Including her. She didn't mind that Nick sometimes slept with their mother, or their grandmother, or their sister. It was everything else. The little touches that made it seem like there was more to their relationship than mere sex.

With a disgusted groan, she turned her attention back to her unholy pile of food.

Her mother assured her that their kind didn't experience pregnancy the way mortal women did. The aches and pains and cravings and morning sickness were all much milder, though their babies did have certain other appetites that would be manifested during sex. Veronica had no idea what mortal women went through, so she couldn't say that her mother was wrong exactly, but if the cravings and everything else that she was enduring were mild, then it was a wonder that the mortal race hadn't died off ages ago.

"That, um, a dish you invented?" Mike asked, noticing the unusual arrangement.

"I guess," Veronica said.

"Honey," Patty said.

"Well, at least it's not ice cream with fruit and baked ziti mixed in," Mike said.

"Exactly. Though I don't know what would make you bring that up. Sounds absolutely horrible," Patty said, pointedly looking away.

Mike laughed and kissed the top of her head.

Veronica smiled to herself as she raised a cracker piled high with chocolate and cheese and meat and whipped cream to her lips. "You guys talk about where you're going to live yet?" she asked around a mouthful of the unreasonably delectable concoction.

Patty leaned back against Mike and wrapped his arms around her belly like a seat belt. "Next door to you and Nick, of course. We'll let you two sort that out. I'm sure you two have strong feelings about acceptable school districts."

"So happens we do," Veronica confessed.

The telltale sounds of lovemaking suddenly filled the air. A glance over her shoulder told her who was responsible. Who else? Nick and their mother. Grandpa Randy too, for that matter. Because apparently her mother was a big, huge fan of dick these days.

In her brother's defense, it wasn't just them. The Bravos were going at it too, as were most of the members of the lesser houses. Eric was helping his mother out of her dress.

Veronica suddenly found that she'd lost her appetite.

For food.

It was strange, how these things worked among their kind. Like a standing ovation. Once they saw others doing it, they all felt compelled to join in. Only it was worse than that. When the urge struck them, it was often completely overpowering.

As Veronica set her plate of food aside, Mike unzipped Patty's dress. Veronica helped her sister out of her clothes, running her hands over the shorter woman's beautiful body. Pregnancy had done nothing to detract from Patty's beauty. Quite the contrary. Whereas she'd always been cute, almost childlike, in the past, no one could look at the blonde bombshell now and deny that she was a woman. That she had the power to give life.

For her part, Veronica just looked fat.

At least, in her mind. Nick swore that she didn't. But he always told everyone exactly what they wanted to hear, so that didn't count.

"Gotta say, Patty," Veronica said as her hands ran over her sister's abdomen, past her hips, and down to her luscious thighs. "Motherhood suits you."

Her sister blushed. One slender finger trailed over Veronica's midsection, and her dress went up in smoke. "No less than it does you, Vee."

"You're both beautiful," Mike said, nibbling at Patty's ear.

He'd hardly even glanced at Veronica, yet somehow, the words rang less hollow than they did when they come from Nick's mouth.

The promise of finally sharing her sister's big catch made Veronica tingle. Mike was built like Eric and as sweet as Nick. His skin was pale by the standards of Summer, more akin to that of ordinary mortals, if not those who lived in LA. Yet, compared to the emerald scales that had covered him when she'd first met him, his current complexion struck Veronica as strangely exotic. And his gray eyes, so unlike those of his father, were absolutely beautiful.

Fittingly, Patty was the focus of his attention initially. The two of them took turns kissing her and sucking at her breasts. Then her hips and her womanhood. But after the two of them brought their sister to climax, he instructed Veronica to lie on her back so that he and Patty could do the same for her.

He didn't have Nick's tongue. Her sister did more for her than Mike did, down there. But that was no insult. Patty gave great head, and Nick was a god. By anything approaching reasonable standards, Mike was quite talented. And his strong hands held her just right, squeezing when and where she wanted and caressing the rest of the time.

When he told her to bend over the table and eat Patty out again while he took her from behind, she found out exactly why her sister had fallen for him so quickly.




Homelands Pt. 06 Ch. 06



That wasn't fair. No doubt, the way he'd run after her to apologize for the way his brother had insulted her surely had made an impression on Patty.

But his lovemaking couldn't have hurt anything.

He had an amazing cock. Thick and long and smooth and hard. He knew how to use it too. Started off gentle, the way she liked, then worked his way up to fucking her the way she needed to be fucked. Giving it to her good and hard. Started pounding her pussy with reckless abandon. She could feel intense hunger, a wild and primal need, coming from the brother she'd practically just met. The sort of hunger that ordinarily only came from living with someone for years, secretly lusting after them day in and day out, before finally, at long last, being able to scratch that itch.

Sex like that only came once in a lifetime. Or so she'd thought, until now.

Veronica screamed her way through an intense orgasm shortly after Patty's lover unleashed his inner animal. And it was but the first of many that he would bring her.

After that, Mike laid down on the picnic table and Patty rode him cowgirl while Veronica sat on his face. The two sisters played with each other's breasts and exchanged dozens of kisses. Then Veronica rode Mike reverse cowgirl while Patty knelt in front of them and alternately licked Mike's balls and her sister's clit. From one position after another, the three of them shared in carnal delights. They grew ever more comfortable with each other as they went. Veronica wouldn't have been so quick to open up to Mike were it not for her sister's presence, but it was impossible to be in their orbit and not get pulled in.

Veronica soon found herself thinking that Patty had landed herself a most amazing man.

He wasn't the best lover she'd ever taken. Nor the worst. But what made the experience so amazing was his powerful devotion to Patty, his aching desire for her, and his willingness to share that with her sister. She might only have been catching the runoff, but that was enough to know that her sister was a very lucky woman.

Though not quite as tender and seductive as Nick, Mike was equally selfless. He delayed his pleasure as long as he could and marshaled forth all his considerable power so that his lovers might have the chance to enjoy themselves to the fullest.

After a while, Veronica started to feel guilty. It was selfish to let Mike focus all his attention on satisfying her and Patty. He needed to enjoy himself too.

"Fuck, yes," Mike moaned shortly thereafter, as Veronica and Patty passed his dick back and forth between them. He ran his fingers lightly through Veronica's hair with one hand an Patty's with the other. "That's what I'm talkin' about."

Veronica maintained eye contact with her brother as she joined her sister in fellating him, making it a double assault. Patty's mouth enveloped the tip of his cock while Veronica worked her way down his shaft with her tongue and lips. When Patty let him out of her mouth with a soft pop, Veronica quickly took over. Much as she'd have loved to deepthroat his glorious cock, she didn't go much past his foreskin. That way, Patty could put one of her small little hands to work on his shift while taking his balls in her mouth and humming.

After Mike shot buckets of cum onto their faces, into their hair, and down their throats, the two sisters licked each other clean. Then snowballed their brother's cum back and forth for his amusement before swallowing it.

They then took turns letting Mike fuck them in the ass. Hard. While he fucked one of them with that big dick of his, the other would use her fist on her sister's pussy. That had driven their brother wild. Veronica had to admit, she'd enjoyed it herself a lot more than she'd expected to. It made her feel utterly depraved, letting her sister shove the better part of her forearm inside her pregnant womb like that, when she already had her back door stretched wide open by a fat cock. But damn if it didn't feel good.

The only thing that could have made it more perfect was if Nick would join them.

He refused to answer her mental summons though.

As the afternoon wore on, most of them switched partners. After Patty and Mike shared the most amazing threesome with Veronica, Grandpa Randy took care of her needs. And did so quite ably at that. He didn't give it to her good and hard, the way Mike had. The way Nick sometimes would, when he caught the hint in her Libido that the time for sweet seduction had passed. But the tender approach certainly had its virtues, and her grandfather knew them well. He wasn't none too hard on the eyes neither.

A girl could certainly ask for worse than to spend her afternoon with the likes of Patty, Mike, and Grandpa Randy. They were all incredible lovers, each in their own way.

But Nick was the one she really wanted. Him most of all.

And he never made his way over to her.

He went from their mother to Grandma Flori back to their mother again. And just as she'd begun to make her peace with that, to tell herself that their mother was having such a hard time adjusting to the reality of Grandma Flori's decision that she just might have needed Nick's attention badly enough to deserve it, her asshole brother went and joined Mike and Patty. Sure, he was wearing two bodies, and one was still making love to their mother, but that only served to underscore the point that she shouldn't have had to go without his touch. Yes, Patty had approached him, whereas Veronica kept waiting for him to come to her, but that shouldn't matter. She shouldn't have to tell him that she wanted him.

By the time her grandmother approached Veronica, making her the queen's last lover for the day, Veronica was so upset with her brother that she wasn't even sure she could enjoy it. Of course, she was wrong about that. No one could possibly fail to enjoy themselves when they were with her grandmother. The woman knew things about pleasure that most of their kind would never know. Her every touch brought with it unspeakable ecstasy.

But only because Grandma Flori was Grandma Flori did Veronica enjoy herself.

#

"Baby, I'm really sorry. I am! I just got...sidetracked," he said.

"Sidetracked," Veronica said, crossing her arms under her breasts.

"I'm not a mind-reader," Nick said.

"No. No, no, no," his sister said, rounding on him. "You do not get to say that. Not you, of all people. If there's one thing that will never, ever explain why you've hurt my feelings, it's that you didn't know what I wanted from you."

He rested his hands against the battlements of Castle Hardt, one to either side of her. "Vee, it was an orgy. Everyone was going crazy, just grabbing whoever was nearest them. I wasn't deliberately avoiding you."

"You just didn't think to seek me out," she snapped.

"I love you, Veronica. With all my heart."

"The parts that aren't dedicated to Mom, or Grandma, or Patty, or Annie."

He drew a deep breath.

"And when our daughter comes of age, you'll undoubtedly fall in love with her too."

What was he supposed to say to that? Promise that he wouldn't be attracted to a young woman he'd yet to even meet? Apologize for feelings he hadn't yet felt?

"I suppose that when we have a son, you'll show no interest in him?"

Veronica's nostrils flared. "Who says I'm gonna want to have any more of your children?"

He pinched the bridge of his nose with two fingers.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Am I giving you a headache?" his sister asked.

She slipped past him. When he grabbed her wrist, she yanked her arm away. The anger in her Libido made him recoil. For a moment, he thought for sure that she'd rip the stones from the castle walls and bury him beneath them.

"Tell me what you want me to do and I'll do it," he said.

"I know you will, Nick," she said, tears streaming down her cheeks. The anger was gone suddenly, replaced by despair. "Me, or any of the other women in your life."

So he was, what, to stop trying to please her? That's what he had to do to please her?

"There are other people I care about," he said carefully, his words slow and measured. "Some of them happen to be women, yes." His sister scoffed at that, but she allowed him to continue. "That doesn't mean I'm in love with them. That they mean anywhere near as much to me as you do. You have to believe that."

"So you get side-tracked by women who don't even mean much to you?"

"That's...really not what I said."

"Forget it, Nick. Just forget it," she said, storming over towards the stairs.

"Forget what?" he asked, panicking.

She'd gotten upset at him before. Many times, in fact. But this sounded like it could be a first. Like maybe she was thinking that they really didn't belong together. That it was time for them to go their separate ways, nevermind the baby that was due in a few weeks.

"Forget I said anything," she called back over her shoulder, without bothering to look at him. "I'm probably just being hormonal, right?"

He hadn't said that either. Just pointed out that she sometimes reacted to things a bit more strongly of late than she might have ordinarily. That wasn't the same as saying that her reactions were without any basis other than biology.

Why did she have to twist his words so?

Nick disappeared and reappeared on the stairs in front of Veronica. "Do you want me to stop sleeping with them? I will. In a heartbeat."

Veronica rolled her eyes. "It's not about the sex, Nick."

"So the thing I did earlier this afternoon, with Mom, at the orgy, that wasn't sex?"

"That's it," his sister said. "Mock me. I can just feel my anger evaporating."

Nick ran a hand through his hair. "And, what? If you get mad enough at me, I'll stop having the feelings for Mom and Grandma that you don't want me to have?"

"Are you proud of what you just did there? Feeling clever, are we?"

Anger welled up within him, such as he'd never felt. He'd been frustrated with his sister before. Exasperated even. But never this.

"Vee," he said, taking her hand in his. "Won't you just please forgive me?"

As he spoke, he reached inside her Libido. Delicately. The thinnest of streamers, floating quickly and lightly through her. Dispersing negative energy. Sapping her anger.

With a sweet smile that wasn't her own, Veronica said, "How could I stay mad at you, baby?" With that, she kissed his lips.

Guilt seeped through Nick like blood in water. A sharp stab, followed by a slow spread of probing tendrils that became an ever-expanding crimson cloud.

He had just made his sister a puppet. Or might as well have. Robbed her of her own emotions. Forced her to feel what he wanted her to feel, because he was scared of the things he himself was feeling. Because it was easier than talking through their problems.

For a moment, he considered undoing it. But he wasn't sure he knew how. It had mostly only been due to chance that his effort to defuse her temper had succeeded in the first place. And if he could make her angry again, how would that absolve him of the sin of manipulating his sister's emotions? She'd still only be feeling what he'd made her feel.

Of course, he knew full well that this was probably one of those few instances where two wrongs did indeed make a right. He was fooling himself by pretending that the nobler thing to do was to keep her on this new, artificial course.

Still, he chose not to do anything.

Because, after all, he was nothing like his father.

"Let's go make up, hmm?" Veronica said, wiggling her eyebrows at him.

"I like the sound of that," he said, grinning at her.

And he did.

Damn if it didn't make him a selfish, spineless, manipulative, non-confrontational shit, but he did. Nothing hurt him more than fighting with his sister. Seeing her in pain as a result of his actions. Or inaction, or whatever it was exactly that had set her off this time. This was wrong. Seven different kinds of wrong. But something about it felt very, very right.

#

There. Just beyond the hilltop. A flash of blonde hair, visible for a fraction of a second.

The lion raced across the field.

Eric felt a thrill course through him as he closed in on his prey. His cousin was rapidly honing her talents. Abundant as her raw power was, Olivia had been a formidable adversary from the outset. Now that they'd been training together for a few days, though, he genuinely couldn't be sure that he'd come out on top. Soon enough, she'd be pushing him to new limits, rather than it being the other way around.

As he crested the hilltop, he pounced.

And landed in a prison cell. Wearing his human form.

The pain of his hard fall drained away easily enough, once he put his mind to it. But the confusion did not. Was this the new technique Liv had said she'd been working on? A trap like the one that Nina had freed them from the day her father had died?

"That was rude of me," a woman's voice said. "Sorry about that. I just can't seem to find a time when you're alone. And it's really important that we talk."

He'd never heard that voice before. If he had, he'd have remembered it. It oozed sex. Sparked desire as surely as a match does fire.

Eric turned to see who it belonged to, and his eyes went wide.

The woman standing by the bars of his cell didn't have the look Eric tended to go for. She was short, where his mother was tall. Her skin was ghostly white and he preferred his women bronzed. Her hair was dark as pitch, but he'd never really been attracted to anything but blondes. The black dress she wore, trimmed with raven's feathers around the collar and diamonds down the sleeves, along the bustline, and encircling her waist, only served to emphasize the stark contrast of her pale skin against her black hair. The black nail polish had much the same effect. The only bits of color he found on her were her blue eyes, which made his mother's look dull and colorless, and her blood-red lips.

Yet he couldn't deny that she was beautiful.

Beyond beautiful, in truth. To call her gorgeous would be to insult her grievously.

Her face was a perfect inverted teardrop. She had the cutest nose. Her red, red lips were deliciously full. The pitch black hair framing her face was cut perfectly, accentuating her exquisite features. The way it hung over one side of her face, curling around her cheek to trace her jawline, took his breath away. And though she'd have been fine without all that eye makeup, seeing as no one was likely to fail to notice her burning blue eyes anyway, he couldn't deny that the additional color contrast made the sapphire orbs pop even more. Though she'd have been aged and experienced long before Flori was born, assuming she was who he assumed her to be, she looked like a teenager. Her skin couldn't have been more flawless, her cheeks smooth from the lingering baby fat beneath.

If her stunningly beautiful face wasn't enough to confirm her identity, she had the most incredible body too. Her waist was so thin, it made Olivia's look thick. It might well have been half the circumference of his cousin's. Certainly his mother's. Yet all the right parts of her were anything but thin. Her breasts had to be the same size as Gabby's, albeit firmer. If her hips were any narrower, than his mother's, it wasn't by much. He could only imagine what kind of legs and ass she was hiding under that dress, as it hung disappointingly hung loose from her gorgeous hips down.

Perhaps her patently unrealistic proportions should have turned Eric off. Her waist was not even a quarter as wide as her hips, though even among their kind it was rare to find a woman whose waist was half the size of her hips. Most cartoons had more believable figures.

But he simply couldn't deny the powerful allure of the woman's hyper-feminine form. Even his mother's figure seemed almost featureless compared to hers, and she had a body that shamed most every other woman in the world. The extreme contours of the body Eric found before him positively defied reason.

No man would be immune to that.

Of course, the sudden intense rush of desire that he felt wasn't entirely natural. In that back of his mind, Eric was aware of that. Simply being in the presence of her vast energy aroused his own. It called to him, simply by being there.

He wasn't as talented as Nick was at reading Libidos, but he didn't need to be in order to know that this woman made Flori look weak. Hank, Nina, and Zoey too, for that matter. He'd never met anyone who could hold a candle to her.

Even if she hadn't been trying to get his attention, then, he'd have been captivated. And though he doubted very much that she was putting everything she had into the effort, he could sense that she was stoking the flames of his desire. She was inside him, caressing his Libido with delicate fingers.

"Lady Winter," he said, climbing to his knees and bowing his head.

What did she want with him? The queen had already told her, in no uncertain terms, that Summer wasn't interested in forging any new alliances. That had been one of the very first things that Flori had done after ascending the throne.

"Oh, please," she said, gesturing for him to get to his feet. "Call me Daphne."

Eric stood slowly. Panic tried to fight its way through the dense fog of lust. Whatever she wanted from him, it couldn't be good. If he ran, she'd just snatch him up again. Or strike him down. He was under no delusions that he could stand against so powerful an entity. Might as well wage war against all the ancients of the Eternal Garden.

"Daphne," Eric said slowly. "It's a pleasure to meet you."

She grinned at him.

And when she did, Eric melted.

It was only for an instant. Some vague facsimile of independent thought returned straight away. But it had taken nothing more than a twitch of her full, red lips for him to lose all sense of self, all ability to question his decisions and resist his urges. Calling what she'd shown him a grin stretched the meaning of the term. Her face had hardly moved at all. Yet, even so, if only for a brief moment, he was completely hers. At once both a slave and a fanatical believer, a zealot and a mindless automaton.

The things he would do to see her smile, truly smile, pearly whites and all, were too terrible to contemplate. As it was, that faint grin would haunt him the rest of his days.

"Tell me, Eric, where do you see yourself in a year's time?"

He closed his eyes. It would be easier that way. He could still feel her. Her Libido tugged at his as surely as the sun's gravity held the Earth in orbit. But at least he could escape some measure of her influence.

An image very much like the one he'd shown his mother came to mind. He was walking through the park, holding Gabby's hand. Her soft skin against his made his heart race. Filled him with warmth and joy. Before them, Debbie chased after the adorable puppy they'd adopted for her birthday. Her little brother, Wesley, waddled along behind her, desperately trying to keep up. Hopeless as the endeavor was, their boy never stopped smiling.

Eric drew strength from that image. Steeled his resolve. Built a tower around his mind and reinforced its walls with all the energy he had within him.

"What if I told you that you would be gone? You and all the ones you love. Dead and buried, if there was anything left to put in the ground."

His eyes snapped open.

Those blue eyes turned his blood to ice water.

Her face was expressionless. There was no malice in her words. No hatred or bloodlust or wrath or anything. He could almost believe he'd misheard her.

"You can keep that from happening, though," Daphne said calmly. "Save the lives of your family, and countless others besides."

Eric inched away from her without even realizing it. If Daphne so much as laid a finger on him, his defenses might crumble. Fuck, but he'd never found it so hard to be in the presence of a woman without tearing her clothes off. Without falling to his knees, kissing her feet, and proclaiming his undying devotion.