The Sixth Prince – Part 4

Thank you to all of my dear fans for your support and patience! I have disabled comments for my other stories because of repeated ads, although I will leave the comments for this story open for two weeks (until December 9th, 2014) and possibly longer. And, as always, if you have any feedback or suggestions, please comment or send me a private message! I love to hear from my fans! Enjoy!
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linky_fangs


The Sixth Prince – Part Four

Izial opened his illuminated eyes, his heart still fluttering in his chest. His strong, ash coloured body was tense and thoroughly exhausted, tightly wrapped around his lover. He could still feel her soft sex rapidly convulsing around his stiff cock. His seed had easily reached the nurture and protection of her womb; distant sensations of his orgasm still lingered. But, it was nothing compared to what he had felt mere seconds ago; her soul. The encounter had drained all of his energy.

Several locks of his black hair messily stood out in all directions, but the elaborate, inky designs that had been painted all over his revealed body remained unaltered. He felt blissfully relaxed, inside and out. His mind was still flooded with many emotions; relief, excitement, disbelief, and most of all, love. He gave a weak smile to the entranced woman in his arms, concentrating on the slippery warmth rhythmically constricting his erection. Silence filled the large room.

He had touched her spirit. It had been weightless and bright, seeking his call. She had successfully found his soul and reached out to his waiting embrace before fading away in his arms, melting back into reality and returning back to their physical bodies. There was nothing more magical in the world. With a great amount of effort, he leaned forward and whispered in Jasmine’s ear.

“I felt you.”

The words struck his heart. It had actually happened; she was his.

And he was hers.

The awestruck human girl looked up at him, her blue eyes slightly hidden behind her long dark hair. Her breath was still raggedly uneven and her snowy body slightly shuddered as she tried to recover from the intense release… and the astonishing experience that she could barely comprehend. All she knew was that it had been incredible and otherworldly; seemingly impossible, yet achieved with a flowing, natural grace. Jasmine smiled tenderly at her mystical lover who had rolled off onto his side and trapped her protectively in his strong arms. He had done it very precisely, ensuring that he didn’t break their cherished bond just yet.

She was beautiful, and everyone saw it. Her petite, naked form was sprawled out beside his own, completely exposed and elegantly painted in sacred symbols that flattered her natural appearance. She showed no shame; only fading expressions of pure bliss and a growing curiosity. She was full of questions, he was sure. They would have to wait.

Mylan and Sylan, along with the rest of the hushed audience, watched the circle around the two lovers dissolve into the air, disappearing completely. After a brief moment, the twins stepped forward in unison and walked into the ring side by side. Mylan’s hair was captured in a tight, single braid and swished against his back. His detailed royal cloak dragged quietly along the polished stone floor. Sylan’s boots clicked dully with each step, but his fitted jacket, loose hair, and straight inky pants made no sound.

Izial glanced up, visibly worn, but delighted none the less. Sylan greeted him with one of charmingly enthusiastic, fang filled smiles. The couple even noticed a faint smile on Mylan’s face. Reluctantly, Izial removed himself from his lover. The pleasant warmth and soft hug from her depths slowly vanished. He watched carefully as the crimson blood from her hymen lightly trickled down onto her white gown underneath them. It pooled in a small impression, making a bright, fresh stain on the silky fabric. It will forever be a symbol of her purity.

Extending a hand to help him up, the cheery demonic brother helped the prince to his feet while the less expressive one formally assisted Jasmine. She felt embarrassed again; remembering they had a crowd. She sheepishly tried to hide behind her seductive, proudly naked prince, but was pulled up and set parallel to him instead. Her body felt heavy and drained. She had no energy left to protest against standing nude before so many people, although she knew it wouldn’t have been a smart idea to try anyway.

The young woman leaned against Mylan, who stood tall and proud with dignity. Though somewhat reluctant at first, he supported her with ease. He was always impassionate and determined to keep order; his ominous eyes and dark expressions usually sent the message. But, peering up at his ruby tinted face, she saw a mildly empathetic side to him. It was very limited, but still there. Even a demon couldn’t be completely hateful all the time. And, she could tell this was special to him… It was special to everyone; including her.

A large silhouette advancing toward them caught her eyes. It held itself up with powerful honour and authority, making the noble brothers around her perk up and stand straighter. They respectfully bowed their heads in submission as the figure came forward. She quickly copied them, not wanting to be rude or appear dumb. She only caught a glimpse of the superior being’s face before reluctantly turning her gaze to her small, ivory feet.

His aged, grey skin had sparkled like crushed lead.

“Izial, The Sixth Prince, my son.” His voiced boomed loudly across the room, as if speaking to the entire crowd rather than just the few in front of him. Izial raised his head and Jasmine peered up a bit, unsure whether it was acceptable for her to look now.

“Alastair, Fifth King, my father.” His voice was firm, but not demanding or sly as usual.

“What do they call her?”

She looked up. Alastair was staring straight at her. His gaze was naturally so direct and intense… If looks could kill… She was relieved that his eyes were a passive blue, but couldn’t stop the shock or nervousness from showing on her face.

Izial didn’t notice; his attention was fixed on his father. “They call her Jasmine.”

He considered this for a moment, his gaze growing distant and then refocusing on the audience around him. “Very well. I wish for you, Izial and Jasmine, to prosper and grow together in happiness and harmony. Never fail to provide aid or lend your strength when your counterpart calls for it. Have strong love and faith in both yourself and your mate, always.”

Mylan and Sylan swiftly turned to face opposite sides of the crowd. They used large, synchronized hand gestures and spoke loudly in Demonic. Together, their combined voices matched the volume of their father’s. Jasmine, along with everyone else present, listened closely to the sharp howls, shrill yelps, and many snaps and clicks. They must be translating for them.

She noticed his majesty smile with approval to his noble children, and her; the confused young human girl caught up in the middle of everything with no understanding of what was happening or why.

Alastair kept his fangs covered and his tail low at his feet while he looked back and forth between the newly mated couple, waiting for the twins to finish before continuing. “Respect and empower each other. Keep the empire strong and lead without fear. Never let weakness decide your fate or flee from battle when it threatens. Show every world our strength and let our nation rein superior for as long as you both shall live!”

As the two royal brothers began again in perfect harmony, their significant body language mirrored one another; crimson hands, arms, and long, arrowed tails created perfect symmetry and an important, dramatic effect. Never once were they off beat or unsure of their words. The performance was flawless and fluent; as if memorized.

The king turned to Jasmine. She stood motionless and silent with the best posture she could manage. Her uncertainty and curiosity still gave her an unintentional childish impression. He waited for silence to signal his time to speak to them once more.

“Bear our world healthy children of worthy skill and knowledge. Show them the world as it is and let them be proud. Teach them respect, honour, and sacrifice. Raise them to be great leaders for the next generation.”

Mylan and Sylan skilfully translated every word with enthusiasm.

He turned to Izial and smiled broadly. “I honour you, my son.”

Standing closer to their father than his brother, Mylan quickly converted and repeated it in Demonic for him.

“I honour you, father.” Izial happily replied.

Sylan, the twin nearest to the couple, followed Mylan’s lead and spoke with a swift tongue.

The king then faced the mesmerized young woman. “I honour you as well, Jasmine.”

Being put on the spot, she froze before the words found her. She was happy that it took a moment for Mylan to translate. “I honour you too,” She hesitated for a split second. What do I call him? Sylan looked back over his shoulder at her. She added, “Sir.” Jasmine winced on the inside; that probably wasn’t the best way to address him…

The highest demon must have known of her inexperience; he seemed slightly taken back, but showed no sign of offense. Sylan chuckled to himself, deciding to slightly warp the translation in the foreign girl’s favour.

“Mylan, Sylan,” He faced the twins, now muted, his smile returning to a look of seriousness.

They looked up and bowed, speaking in perfect unison, “Yes, father.”

“I thank you.”

“It was our honour.” Mylan quickly spoke for both his brother and himself, in both Demonic and English, before Sylan could reply; he knew his twin wouldn’t word it quite as respectfully as he could. Sylan didn’t take any offense; he looked grateful, if anything.

The powerful Demonic king stepped into the center of the room, spreading his loosely covered arms out to his sides and officially announcing, “Let the feast begin!”

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The table was very long and low, about a foot off the ground.