King of Prey

Chapter One

"King Kabril, you cannot stand idly by while your people cry out for you to lead. Our race will not survive unless you take a wife. The mating magik that governs our lands will not grant established unions the blessing of children if the leader himself refuses to sire offspring," Sachin said, his words the truth. As head advisor to the king he was afforded the opportunity to speak freely where others were not. It was a privilege Kabril was fast beginning to suspect needed to be revoked. "You know the laws, the way of the land and the demands you must meet as king. The time has come, my lord. This can wait no longer. The people of Accipitridae need you to act now."

Though Sachin's words were the truth, they were not what Kabril wanted to hear. No. He much rather preferred hearing all was well and that none of the people under his rule were troubled. Of course, those moments were few and far between of late. The rumbles of pending war continued to make their way through the kingdom. Now was not the time for foolishness or for stopping everything to heed the warnings of those who did not leave their chambers.

Ever.

Seers and the Oracle.

He grunted. He had no time time for prophecy.

It had been a good long while since his people had been in full-scale war. Yes, they had the occasional run-in with the enemy, but nothing epic. Too long for some to remember the horrors of it, yet not long enough for others to be afforded the chance to forget.

Kabril was one of the men who could not forget. He did not want a repeat, nor did he want his people's moods soured because he was refusing to do what was required of him as king. Gods be damned if what they required didn't go against his very nature.

Select a wife.

Settle upon only one woman—forever?

Absurd.

Truly, he would have thought it a trick of the Oracle had so many not stood behind the words.

Foolish words.

Sighing, Kabril leaned back on his throne and stared into the reflective mixture Sachin held in the bowl. He ran his fingers over the scrolled armrest and glanced down at the carved hawks. A slow smile caused by pride moved over his face. Pride in his people, their traditions and their beliefs, even though those very beliefs were the cause of his unrest.

He did not want to be forced to select a queen. Far too long he'd ruled alone, answered to no one and liked it just fine that way. He did not require the assistance of a female.

Few men did.

Females tended to talk too much and think with their hearts, not their minds. Such was a luxury men could not afford. He shuddered to think what would come to be should females ever rule the realm. There would be nothing but talk, talk, talk.

He nearly groaned at the thought.

"A curse on the prophecy," he muttered, making Sachin laugh. He looked to his friend. "They are wrong to put such stock in charms and magiks."

"At one point in your life, you too believed the seers to be true and wise."

He scoffed. "'Twas before I knew better."

"You are most difficult, my lord."

"I could have you beheaded," Kabril returned.

Sachin merely snorted. "You could try."

The people of his kingdom assumed their issues with conceiving were due to his reluctance to accept what they deemed to be destiny. Kabril wasn't a staunch believer in the gods or of prophecy as he should be, but it came from being the one forced to accept a wife he did not want. As their ruler, it was his sworn duty to do what was best for the kingdom, regardless how much it pained him.

"My lord," Sachin pressed, his reluctance to let the subject rest putting Kabril's already taxed nerves on edge. The man would not cease his endless prattle about the subject no matter how much Kabril deemed he do so.

Kabril knew. He'd tried to decree it law not to speak of the ordeal.

Sachin simply ignored him.

As was the norm.

Taking a deep, calming breath, Kabril reminded himself of how proud he was, and should always be, of his people's customs and beliefs. Although he was less than pleased with the Oracle—whom they held in such high esteem—choosing a bride for him. According to the prophecies, the Oracle would select a woman fit to lead his people, and he was honor-bound to obey. It was also said the union would produce children, something their kind sorely lacked. Once heavily populated, his lands were no longer bursting with the sounds of children singing and playing. In truth, Kabril could scarcely recall when the sounds indicative of children stopped, but he knew it had been far too long.

War had claimed the lives of many of his people. Still others, while immortal to a degree, possessed the ability to pass on to the afterlife should they so choose. There came a time in many people's lives when they were ready to move on. It mattered not what the cause was—their population was low, as was morale. Riches only did so much to calm the people. They wanted families.

"Cursed Magaious," he spat, not caring if he took one of the Epopisdeus' names in vain.

Sachin clapped acrimoniously. "Bringing down the wrath of the bird gods will surely ease your burden, my lord. For if you curse one, they all rise to strike."

"You push me too far, old friend." Kabril smoothed his fingertips along the wood of his throne, ignoring the internal nudge to free his temper.

"You do not push yourself far enough."

Kabril hated when Sachin was right.

Giving Sachin a daring look, Kabril let loose another curse upon the gods. He once again selected the god he knew Sachin honored weekly in hopes of provoking his friend. He was in the mood for a fight and Sachin was always a worthy adversary. The two often sparred until matins. Depending upon the day, Sachin would either continue the match or lay his sword down to go honor the gods. Kabril had long since given up his prayers to higher powers. "A pox on Magaious and those who follow him blindly."

Sachin merely tipped his head a little and released an exasperated sigh. "Remind me again which of us is older? You seem to be acting like a fledgling, my lord."

Arguing with Sachin would get him nowhere since it was clear Sachin was not going to take his bait. Damn him for being levelheaded. Kabril hungered for an argument, even a sparring match. Steel upon steel would settle the debate. For there was nothing more soothing than the clang of steel and the vibration up one's arm from a good strike and an equally as good counterstrike.

Sachin would obviously give in to neither. Kabril truly hated when his advisor was calm. It took all the fun out of a good fight. Kabril drummed his fingers on his armrests, trying to devise a plan for avoiding marriage.

Especially to a human female.

A ripple of disgust washed through him. He was king, not some peasant, and even he would not wish a human upon a peasant. He was not that cruel a king.

Why was it the Oracle seemed to favor reopening the portal to Earth? The prophecy only stated his need to find his mate. It never said she was an Earthling. It wasn't as if an Earth woman was fit to be queen of his people. Their species was substandard to say the least. They lacked the means to be anything but human.

Kabril shuddered. The mere thought of not being able to shift forms into that of a hawk and soar the skies nearly caused him to lose the meal he'd eaten to break his fast.

The very idea of relying on machinery to lift me into the sky. How repulsive.

Not only that, but humans were foul as well. Their entire world was polluted, overpopulated and riddled with disease. They took nearly no care with their realm and allowed men with gold-lined pockets to kill the planet, quicker, rather than slower, as if it did not matter to them that the gold would serve little in the way of burying all their dead.

The only thing Earth had less of than Accipitridae was conflict. His breed, the Buteos Regalis, had been at odds with the Falco Peregrinus for centuries. Longer than even Kabril could recall the reason why, and he was nearing his four-hundredth cycle, though he had only held the throne for one hundred and fifty of those cycles. They teetered upon the abyss of another war. He could sense it coming, looming in the distance, waiting for the right moment to strike.

What was will always be.

Glancing around the Great Hall, Kabril realized it had not changed much in the long centuries he'd ruled. Truth be told, not much had changed since his father was king. Kabril was not one for redoing what did not require being redone. But he did assure what was there was well cared for, disliking clutter or rundown states of matters.

Open saucers with floating wicks hung from the ceiling on chains of gold. The oil within them burned at a steady pace, and on occasion he would see brief flashes of a servant scuttling about to refill them. Those who made the castle function often tried hard to stay out of his line of sight, as if they feared the very glimpse of them would cause the skies to open and fire to pour down upon them. He was not so pompous as to believe a servant should never be seen. He appreciated what they did to keep things in order in the castle and often tried to reward them without their knowing that it came directly from him.

It would do no good if they thought him a soft king with too many emotions.

No.

Nothing was easy.

It never was.

He needed to relax, take time from the demands of the throne even if just for a day and then return to it all—clear of head. His demanding schedule had stopped allowing for rest periods some time ago and seemed to be brimful from morn until night. Part of it was his own doing. He disliked putting the burdens of running the kingdom upon anyone else's shoulders—though he had enough brothers to request assistance from. They did not hold much love with the idea of ruling and seemed almost grateful that birthright deemed he do so.

Lucky bastards.

He used to have something that resembled a personal life that he was permitted to live as he saw fit. It wasn't much because of the commitments of ruling the hawks, but it was his and his alone.

Seemed like forever ago.

Chapter Two

Kabril sorely missed the days of roaming about freely, shifting shapes and soaring anywhere his heart desired. He preferred the Tocallie Mountains in the Northern Region of Accipitridae because of their isolation and beauty. Waterfalls cut through the large, foliage-covered terrain creating a serene and secluded paradise. He'd often heard Earth possessed such places of beauty and wonder but had never seen them with his own eyes, so he was skeptical.

The Tocallie Mountains were favored by him for another reason—it was one of the largest portals to and from Earth. A place where, over the years, many of the humans' flying machines entered from a spot on Earth they called the Bermuda Triangle. Though rumor had it that other spots fed into the Tocallie portal too. Additional portals throughout his kingdom served as gateways from other regions of Earth but none were as active as Tocallie.

As much as he disliked the humans and their flying machines, he did like to learn. Physics and medicine were two of his favorite areas of study—neither of which a king had any use for. Still, that didn't stop Kabril from seeking out new sources for learning. He had even gone so far as to hire tutors to instruct him on the ways of medicine and treating animals. While he could always resort to his magiks, it seemed more of a challenge to do it the way humans did. More rewarding as well.

Sachin cleared his throat, drawing Kabril from his thoughts. "My lord."

"What did I miss this time?" Kabril asked, already annoyed with the man.

A chortle broke free from Sachin. "Did the 'my lord' give it away?"

"Yes." Kabril cast a speculative glance at his long-time friend. "You would rather eat flankscud pie than my lord me. You show me no respect. You should fear me. Most do."

Sachin shrugged. "They are fools, for I know you."

Kabril cast a sideways glance at his lifelong friend. He should have selected anyone other than Sachin as a head advisor. Sachin was too headstrong.

Had you, you'd never trust them the same.

Sachin beamed. "You would not make it a day without me. Stop dreaming it so." He was right. Never one to refrain from disagreeing with Kabril, Sachin was a breath of fresh air in a sea of followers. "I was saying you should visit your soon-to-be bride and win her trust."

"Win her trust?" he echoed, afraid his hearing had gone awry. Surely this was a conversation just to get a rise out of Kabril. Sachin could not be serious. Why would it matter to Kabril if his bride-to-be trusted him? He had no plans to keep her. She was human after all.

Sachin's lips trembled. It was easy to see his personal guard and trusted friend found great amusement at Kabril's response. Sachin ran his hand over his black goatee and shook his head. "King Kabril, you must get to know the human, make her love you."

Shocked, Kabril jolted, almost falling off his throne. "Surely, you jest. Get to know it? Make it love me?"

"Perhaps we should begin with you not referring to your future wife as 'it'." Sachin turned his head and Kabril knew it was to hide his smile. The moment his friend was composed, Sachin touched the dagger on his side. It was a nervous habit of Sachin's. The man took great solace in the knowledge his weapons were close. His silver gaze landed on Kabril. "Tell me you were not planning on abducting your future wife."

"I was actually planning on sending you to fetch her. I've no desire to visit Earth." The very idea made his stomach turn. Sachin couldn't really expect him to travel to a realm full of heathens. No king would. At best he would linger near the Tocallie portal while he sent one of his other guards through with orders to procure books and other learning tools.

"I am sorry, but I will not go unless you accompany me, my lord."

"Do you dare to defy me?"

Sachin leaned down and grinned. "Kabril, do not make me knock your pampered arse from that chair. You can and will go with me to find your bride. You can and will get to know her. Befriend her even. You can and will get her to love you. If I can still tolerate you after all of these centuries, I am sure she will at least be somewhat fond of you."

"Sachin?" he asked, his mouth agape. "Cease your blathering."

"Do not Sachin me, my lord. And I will not cease my anything. I have known you all of my three hundred and ninety-five cycles. I am permitted to uncover your veiled eyes when called for." He assumed a posture of superiority and shook slightly. It took Kabril a moment to realize Sachin was laughing.

Unable to stop himself, Kabril joined him, laughing from the gut. It felt good to release some of the tension he had locked away. In truth, Sachin knew him well. He knew that being direct worked to a certain degree. He also had a knack for taking an opposing view on a matter only to get Kabril to argue the point, all the while agreeing with Kabril. "Very well. It may be best for me to learn a few Earth customs."

"Actually," Sachin said, "I have something better in mind. May I suggest you alert the advisors you will be on Earth for many moons? Perhaps Rossi should be contacted to sit in while you are gone?"

"You wish me to call one of my brothers home to rule while I am on Earth for many moons? Now I know you jest. It is clear you suffer from the pull of the moons, Sachin. Mayhap you should seek the counsel of an old crone." Since four moons orbited their planet, one so large it was seen even in waking hours, it was always safe to blame them for madness. And it was apparent Sachin was afflicted with moon madness.

Shaking his head, Sachin chuckled. "No, my lord. I do not jest and I have not been stricken by the moons. There is much work to be done."

"Work?"

Sachin grinned mischievously. "Ah, the king must learn to speak as humans do, without drawing attention to himself. He must also learn the Earthly art of wooing a woman."

Kabril cringed. Nothing called "wooing" could be good. "Leave me in peace for a bit."

"As you command," Sachin said as he walked in the direction of the outer hall. "I will alert the others of your departure."

Kabril sighed and put his head back, closing his eyes, attempting to wish away the prophecies. It did not work. The gods did look favorably upon him at the moment. He could not blame them. He'd taken their names in vain and had mocked others' devotion of them.

Served him right to have to go to Earth of all places. A just punishment indeed. Next, the gods would say he must reside there until they deemed otherwise.

He shuddered.

He kept his eyes closed, wondering what his woman looked like. Flashes of long dark hair came to him and his body instantly tightened. His cock stirred to life and he groaned, his hand going to the front of his trews.

There was a harem in place at the castle. He could summon forth women from it to alleviate the tension in his cock. But he did not. Instead, he untied the front of his trews and released his cock, knowing he would not be bothered again.

Thoughts and the tiniest of flashes of a woman returned to him. He could not see her face or make out much of anything about her. All he did know was the very idea of her hardened him more. He wanted to find her, sink into her depths and lose himself in her. But he would not tell Sachin that. No. His friend would find too much joy in knowing Kabril truly did want the woman—whoever she may be.

Even if she was human.

He squeezed his cock harder, his breathing rash as he pushed thoughts of her being human from his mind. He needed a good fuck. He'd put too long between them. Mayhap the moons had afflicted him.

That was the only explanation for his body lusting after a human, of all things. He pumped his cock, his thoughts lost on a woman he could not clearly see while his body teetered on the edge of bliss.

Kabril continued to work his cock until his ball sac drew up and his seed spilled forth and onto the floor. A servant would see to the mess. They always did.

Though, once, he'd learned his seed had been taken to the Oracle in hopes of figuring out why the birth rates in the realm had dropped so. It was then the foolish prophecy had been spoken.

Kabril's cock wilted at the thought of it all. He tucked it away in his trews and sighed. Sometimes he wished he had the freedoms his brothers had. None worried about ruling or the tasks that came along with it. Each lived a life outside of the castle, for the most part.

Rossi, the youngest of his brothers, tended to spend the most time within the castle walls, no doubt because he liked the free use of the harem. Keonae and Aeson were next in line to rule—being part of a set of triplets that included Kabril. He had beat Aeson out by mere minutes, making him king.

Often, Kabril would sit and wonder what life would have been like had he been the second of the triplets to arrive. He had not spoken with Aeson in more than two full moon cycles. Last Kabril had heard, Aeson was off in the human realm—again. Disobeying Kabril's orders. And Keonae now resided among the humans. Something Kabril had considered forbidding but with Keonae's past and the heartache his brother had suffered, Kabril understood the man's need to fade away from all that was known, and simply exist. And his other brothers—two sets of twins—were heading up different regiments of Kabril's armies. Doing as duty required of them.