The Skyspire of Aeltharion pulsed with the Starheart's unstable energy, its crystal spires glinting under the twin moons of Elyndor, casting shadows over the prince's chambers. Zevryn Thaloryn stood by the massive bed, his white hair loose, his violet eyes hardened with duty and unease. His obsidian armor lay discarded, his silver tattoos glowing with starfire, a mark of his power as the Prince of Blood. His massive cock—thicker and longer than any man's, a tool to satisfy anyone—throbbed beneath his robes, a burden he'd wielded to secure Varenthia's military alliance with King Eldrin Varos. The past nights had pushed Eldrin to his limits, his youthful appearance belying his sixty-year-old frailty, and Zevryn knew this encounter might break him—but political necessity demanded it.King Eldrin entered, his golden hair matted with sweat, his green eyes burning with an obsessive hunger despite his trembling frame. His silver armor hung loosely, his lean body weakened from the previous night's pleasure, his breath shallow. "Zevryn, my boy," he rasped, his voice a mix of fatherly affection and desperate need. "One more time… to seal our bond fully. Varenthia's military must stand with you." His words were veiled, his age and fatherly role clashing with his desire to worship Zevryn's cock, but his frailty made his plea urgent.Zevryn's political mind calculated the risk, recognizing Eldrin's leverage—Varenthia's armies were vital, and this final act could cement their loyalty. "For Aeltharion," he said, his voice cold, shedding his robes to reveal his muscular frame, his massive cock standing erect. Eldrin's breath hitched, his youthful face flushing as he knelt, his hands shaking with reverence. "Such power," he whispered, leaning forward to lick the tip, slurping the pre-cum with a reverent moan, his tongue tracing every vein, biting gently as he drank Zevryn's essence, his worship frantic.Zevryn thrust into Eldrin's mouth, his cock filling the king's throat, cum spilling as Eldrin drank it greedily, moaning as his body trembled, foam forming at his lips—a sign of the extreme pleasure overwhelming him. Zevryn's stomach churned, his starfire dimming to mask his discomfort, but he pressed on, his duty driving him. "Turn," he growled, pulling Eldrin up, bending him over the bed, spitting on his hand to slick his cock, and thrusting into the king's tight ass with a brutal force, his massive length stretching Eldrin beyond limits.Eldrin screamed, his body convulsing, his cock leaking cum without touch as the pleasure surged, foam spilling from his mouth, his green eyes rolling back. Zevryn fucked him harder, his starfire flaring, his tattoos glowing as he pounded relentlessly, his political sacrifice a relentless rhythm. He bit Eldrin's shoulder, licking the blood, slurping the sweat, drinking the juices as the king moaned and foamed, his youthful facade cracking under the strain of his aging heart.The chamber door creaked open, and Lysara Veyne stepped in, her shadowweave armor shimmering, her amber eyes widening in shock. She had followed a gut instinct, her jealousy and suspicion of Zevryn's distance driving her to his chambers. What she saw—Zevryn's massive cock plunging into Eldrin, the king foaming and writhing—froze her, her shadow magic flaring in a mix of rage and horror. "Zevryn!" she gasped, her voice a thunderclap, but it was too late.Eldrin's body shuddered violently, his moans turning to a choked gurgle as the pleasure overwhelmed him. His heart, strained by nights of ecstasy, gave out mid-thrust, his chest heaving once before stilling, foam dripping from his lips, his green eyes glazing over. He died with a final convulsion, his body slumping forward, Zevryn's cock still buried deep, cum and blood mixing on the silks. The Prince of Blood froze, his starfire dimming, his political victory tainted by the king's death.Lysara rushed forward, her shadow magic coiling, her amber eyes blazing with a mix of anger and concern. "What have you done?" she hissed, her hands on Zevryn's shoulders, pulling him back as Eldrin's lifeless body slid to the floor. Zevryn wiped his mouth, the taste of Eldrin's juices lingering, his political mind racing to mitigate the fallout. "It was for Aeltharion," he growled, his voice raw. "Varenthia's military is ours—but now we've got a mess."Lysara's fury softened, her jealousy giving way to pragmatism. "We can't let this be known," she said, her voice steadying. "Help me move him." Together, they lifted Eldrin's body, Zevryn's strength and Lysara's shadow magic easing the task. They carried him through the shadowed corridors to his original chamber, a regal suite adorned with Varenthian banners, laying him on the bed as if he'd died peacefully. Lysara arranged his arms, her shadow magic masking the signs of his ecstatic demise, while Zevryn cleaned the blood from his hands, his massive cock still hard, a reminder of the night's cost.As they returned to Zevryn's chambers, Lysara grabbed him, her lips crashing into his, biting hard, licking the blood, slurping his sweat in a fierce reclaiming. "You're mine," she growled, her pussy dripping as she tore at his robes, her shadow magic amplifying her need. Zevryn thrust into her, his massive cock filling her cunt with a brutal force, fucking her harder than he'd fucked Eldrin, his passion a wildfire. He bit her neck, licking her blood, slurping her juices as she clawed his back, drinking his essence, their hunger a balm for the night's darkness.Meanwhile, Mira Tselvar seized her moment. The nineteen-year-old thief, her ash-blonde hair hidden under a hood, slipped into the core temple, her green eyes fixed on the Starheart. The chaos of Eldrin's death and Zevryn's distraction gave her an opening. She bypassed the dragon riders with her stolen holo-map, her blade ready, and reached the artifact's chamber, its power calling to her. She touched the glowing orb, its energy surging, but the instability triggered an alarm, alerting the guards.Zevryn and Lysara, still entwined, felt the temple's tremor. "Mira," Zevryn snarled, pulling free, his starfire flaring as he grabbed his armor. Lysara nodded, her shadow magic coiling. "She's after the Starheart," she said, her voice hard. "We end this now." They raced to the temple, leaving Eldrin's death a secret, the political fallout looming as Varenthia's fate hung in the balance.In the chamber, Mira clutched the Starheart, its power overwhelming her, but the dragon riders closed in, their celestial roars echoing. Zevryn burst in, his sword blazing, Lysara at his side, their combined magic a storm. Mira grinned, her blade flashing, the battle for the Starheart beginning as Eldrin's death reshaped their world.
