23. Dexari

Chapter 23

Dexari

I lie on the forest floor, the morning light filtering through the dense canopy, casting shadows across my body.

The pain from my fanghound wound throbs, a dull yet constant reminder of my narrow escape from death. Each breath sends a sharp twinge through my side, and I fight to keep my discomfort from showing on my face.

Sloane sits with her back against a gnarled tree trunk, her eyes fixed on me, waiting for an answer to her question. The gentle rustle of leaves in the breeze fills the silence between us.

" What are orc spikes? "

Her words hang in the air, heavy with implications. I feel an urge to evade, to keep our conversation on safer ground. Yet she deserves the truth. I change positions to face her directly, wincing slightly as the movement pulls at my injury.

"To understand cockspikes," I begin, my voice low and steady, "you need to know a bit of orc history."

"Wait, what?" she interrupts, her eyes widening. "The spikes are on your, um..."

"Cock, yes."

"Whoa." This detail clearly piques Sloane's curiosity, which might amuse me if the circumstances were different. "Are they hard and painful?"

I shake my head. "They are soft and pleasurable, for both the male and the female." Sloane's cheeks redden, and I suppress a groan as my cock hardens and my spikes emerge. The sensation sends a jolt of desire through me, one I struggle to ignore. "May I continue?"

She bites her lip, which does nothing to ease my arousal. "Please do."

I take a deep breath, then continue. "Long ago, the orcs were at constant war, and our ancestors sought to strengthen our ability to fight. They believed that by producing more male offspring, we would have more warriors to defend our kingdoms." I pause, giving her time to consider what I have shared. "They used advanced technology to manipulate our genetics, our DNA."

I see a flicker of confusion in Sloane's eyes. "How does that relate to...cockspikes?"

"The geneticists used a combination of nanotech and viral vectors to alter our genome, targeting specific traits they believed would enhance our species. This changed the male orc anatomy by adding special, seed-filled spikes to our reproductive system, hence the name cockspikes. " I watch as Sloane processes this information, her face tense with concentration.

"The spikes became essential for conception and did produce more male offspring. Yet they also led to a devastating side effect: a drastic decline in the birth rate. Reproduction became rare and challenging."

"Sounds like the spikes carry super-sperm." Sloane's brow furrows. "Wouldn't that make conception easier?"

I meet her gaze, steeling myself to reveal the deeper truth about cockspikes, what they mean, what she means to me. "In theory, yes. In reality, however, the opposite happened."

"Why?" Her genuine interest helps me continue.

"Cockspikes carry the reproductive seed needed for a female orc to conceive a child. Yet they only emerge when there is a perfect genetic match between a male orc and the female fated to bear his offspring. This was by design because it ensured only the strongest and most compatible mates reproduced, thereby strengthening our race."

Sloane's fingers absently trace patterns in the dirt. "Makes sense in a fucked up, war-focused way, I guess."

I nod, feeling a twinge of anger directed toward my ancestors' actions. "Except over time, perfect genetic matches among the orc population became more and more rare. And a ruling family cannot continue its reign over a kingdom without generational heirs."

The changes in her expression tell me she is thinking about what this means, and I recognize the instant she makes the connection to human females. Her eyes widen, and she sits up straighter. "That's why the slave traders brought us here. Because human women are universal breeders who can conceive an orc king's child without their spikes."

"In theory, yes. Although it has not been tested or confirmed yet." I can feel the tension building between us, like a storm about to break.

"That's why you wanted me to be your pleasure slave. So, you could knock me up and get your precious heir." Her voice drips with anger, and I flinch internally at her words.

"I never intended to make you my pleasure slave, Sloane. There was no need." The words come out more forcefully than I intended, my own frustration seeping through.

"If you didn't need me to be your universal breeder, that must mean your spikes already emerged for your perfect genetic match. What kind of man cheats on his mate with someone else? And what kind of mind games are you playing, Dexari?"

Her accusation stings, and I struggle to keep my composure. "No games, Sloane."

She grabs a dagger and jumps up, pacing back and forth in front of the shelter with the hilt gripped tightly in her hand. The sudden movement startles a nearby bird, which takes flight with a loud rustle of wings. "You were just testing me, then? To see if I'd pick sleeping with you over the dungeon? You arrogant sonofabitch."

I rub my hands over my face in frustration. "You are not understanding what I am trying to say."

"Oh, I understand perfectly." She waves the dagger erratically in the air, her voice sharp and accusatory. "You don't need a breeding slave because your spikes have already emerged which will allow you to conceive an heir the old-fashioned way. Or, rather, the DNA-manipulated way."

"In a way, that is true. Yet things are not that simple." I take a deep breath, wincing as the action pulls at my wound. I need to clarify myself, yet I wish this discussion was not happening in a forest, with me wounded and with a foggy mind and my angry mate waving a dagger over my head. "Will you sit and allow me to explain? Please?"

"Fine." She plops down in front of me and rests the dagger in her lap. "Explain."

I gather my thoughts, knowing that what I say next will have the power to defuse some of the tension between us—or stoke Sloane's anger. The weight of this presses down on me, making it hard to focus.

"Something happened when I came to see you yesterday morning." Was that really just one suns cycle ago? It feels like a much longer timespan.

"I'll say something happened," she interjects. "You insulted me by saying I looked like a street beggar and couldn't get away from me fast enough."

"There is a reason for that, the getting away part. Our meeting...was unsettling. I needed time to think."

"Unsettling, how?"

I look directly into her eyes, willing her to understand, to believe. My voice comes out barely above a whisper, heavy with the weight of destiny. "My cockspikes emerged for you, Sloane. You are my perfect genetic match and fated mate. The one female destined to bear my offspring."