[Silthara Palace—Emperor's Chamber—Continuation]
Zeramet reached down his trousers, pushed past his hips and as Levin glanced at it, his eyes went wide slightly.
'Why…why is that thing huge? How can that thing go inside me? Is this why every consort died on first night?'
His breath caught. Still, he did not retreat. Zeramet studied him in silence, a slow, knowing curve touching his lips—not mockery, but certainty.
"Do not fear, consort," the Emperor said calmly. "I will not break what belongs to me."
Levin swallowed, his throat tight, his eyes never leaving the Emperor's enormous cock. His hands curled into the silks beneath him, the fabric a poor anchor against the storm of anxiety and desire that raged within him.
Zeramet wrapped his hands around his cock, warm and impossibly heavy, and pressed lightly against Levin's hole.
"Mmhh…" Levin shivered, his arms tightening around the Emperor as a heavy, unfamiliar warmth pressed against him.
Zeramet leaned in, his pheromones unfurling like a tide, filling Levin's senses and easing the panic clawing at his chest.
"Breathe," Zeramet said quietly. "Trust me."
Levin held him tightly, his body trembling as Zeramet tried to push his cock inside. The Emperor leaned down, his pheromones wrapping around Levin, making him relax slightly.
"Just breathe, consort…I won't hurt you," Zeramet murmured, his voice a low, soothing rumble.
Levin glanced, saying, "I am…I am trying …"
He shut his eyes, surrendering and then—THRUST!!!
"Aaaaaghhh..." Levin tried to scream low but failed.
A broken cry tore from him as his body arched violently, legs shaking, fingers clawing at Zeramat's back, nails scraping skin. Zeramat caught him firmly, hands gripping his hips, holding him steady as the force of the moment rippled through him again.
THHHRRRUUUSSTTT!!!
"Hngh… aaghh…" Levin's sounds spilled freely now.
Wet slap on flesh on flesh. Each plunging stroke stretched him farther, brushing inside him, sending sparks crackling along his cock, drawing it rigid against his belly.
Breath came in frantic pants—"Haa…hnngh …"
His world narrowed to the place their bodies merged: hot, primal, and overwhelming. Zeramet leaned in, his tongue licking Levin's throat, tasting salt. He paused and bit above his Adam's apple. Levin whimpered, thighs trembling around the Emperor's hips.
"Hngh… Zer…" His name broke in, swallowed by another anguished moan.
Zeramat drew back just enough to meet his gaze. Sweat sheened them both. His voice flowed like heated bronze—soft and commanding.
"I like the way you obey," he murmured. "Keep calling my name, Consort."
Levin shivered, clenching hard.
The Emperor's rhythm intensified, each impact lifting Levin's knees from the mattress. Zeramet didn't stop; he kept moving, kept thrusting deeper and deeper.
Then in a swift motion he turned him down towards the stomach, saying, "On your hands and knees, consort."
And he kept going.
The sound and the heat were all wrapped around Levin. Zeramet leaned closer at the back of his neck; his pheromones surrounded all the chamber as he said, "You take me so well, consort."
"Ahhh….nghh…." Levin melted into Zeramet's skin, the scent spiking so intensely he felt dizzy. They kept going and going…and Zaramet's golden eyes turned darker as if he'd taken his real form, fangs bared, sharp and intense.
And then…BITE!!!!!!
"AGHHHHH!!!!"
Levin screamed as Zeramet's fangs pierced his skin in both pain and lust, Marking him completely.
When the Emperor pulled back, a glowing black lotus bloomed at the mark—dark, radiant, unmistakable. The symbol of possession.
Zeramet exhaled slowly, satisfied and absolute. "Now, you are mine, consort."
Zeramet thrust again and again until he released his warm sperm inside him, making him wet and entirely his. Levin collapsed onto the bed, body trembling, too exhausted to speak, too exhausted to even lift his eyes.
Now marked, claimed, and still breathing.
***
[A Desert—Levin's Dream—Between Night and Light]
Levin found himself naked and barefoot upon an endless desert.
Pale sand stretched to the horizon, untouched and eternal, beneath a sky bleached of sun and cloud—and yet, the moon hung there as well. Sun and moon shared the same heavens, suspended in quiet defiance of reason.
No wind stirred.
No sound followed his breath.
The world felt abandoned—ancient and waiting. Levin lifted his face to the sky, eyes tracing the impossible light above.
"The sun… and the moon, together," he murmured, awe softening his voice.
He stared for a long moment, heart strangely calm and warm, "So beautiful."
And then he felt something shift at his feet. The sand moved without sound and when Levin looked down, he saw a silver serpent lying coiled upon the desert floor, its body half-buried in pale grains, scales dulled like moonlight smothered beneath ash. It was still—unnatural in its stillness—as if it had always been there.
Levin did not run.
Slowly, reverently, he knelt and stretched his palms towards it. The silver serpent's head lifted; golden eyes met his.
Unblinking.
Watching.
The desert remained silent as the serpent began to move. Its body slid forward, smooth and deliberate, wrapping once around Levin's wrist—then higher, coiling along his arm, pressing against his chest as though measuring him.
The touch was warm.
Heavy.
And then…in a single breath, the world shifted. The serpent grew—coils thickening, lengthening, rising until its shadow swallowed Levin whole. Levin's eyes widened with surprise.
"What… What's going—"
Sand trembled as the creature towered above him, vast and immeasurable. Now the serpent's body wrapped fully around him.
Holding.
Claiming.
The serpent reared back, hood flaring wide, fangs bared and gleaming beneath the strange twin light of sun and moon.
It lunged.
Levin gasped—
***
[Silthara Palace—Emperor's Chamber—The Next Morning]
—and woke with a sharp breath torn from his chest.
His lungs rose and fell unevenly. Warmth surrounded him. The scent of resin and something floral lingered thick in the air. He blinked at the ceiling above—stone carved with interlocking serpents, their bodies winding endlessly into one another.
Only then did he realize he could not move.
Something vast lay coiled around him.
Smooth. Solid. Warm.
Levin's gaze dropped as he saw a great giant silver serpent resting upon the silks, its body wrapped loosely around his waist and legs—not constricting, merely holding. The coils rose and fell with a steady, untroubled breath.
'A silver serpent…?' The thought came faint and unreal.
Then...
"You are awake, Consort." The voice vibrated through the coils before it reached his ears.
Levin turned his head slowly. The serpent's great head lay near his shoulder, golden eyes watching him with calmness.
"Y-Your Radiance…?" Levin whispered.
The serpent regarded him for a breath longer, then shifted. Silver scales flowed like liquid moonlight as the great form receded, reshaping itself with quiet inevitability. In moments, Zeramat lay beside him once more, vast, naked and unmistakably human, bronze skin catching the pale morning light.
He reached out, thumb brushing Levin's cheek with unexpected gentleness.
"Does the night's pain still linger?" Zeramat asked, voice low and measured.
Levin blinked, the weight of his body settling into awareness—soreness, warmth, and a dull throb that reminded him of everything that had passed.
"A little, Your Radiance…" Levin replied.
Zeramat's gaze sharpened—not with anger, but with a reminder. His fingers traced slow, idle paths along Levin's chest, following the marks left there as though reading a record carved in flesh.
"What did I instruct you to call me?" he asked.
Levin stiffened, breath catching. He swallowed.
"Zer," he said at last, voice quiet but steady. "I… I am not in much pain."
A slow smirk curved Zeramat's lips—satisfaction, restrained. "Good."
Levin shifted slightly upon the silks, becoming aware of himself all at once—heat, dampness, and the wet liquid in between his legs, lingering evidence of the night's claiming.
'I should wash up soon,' he thought faintly.
"Did you bring any present for your husband, Consort?" he asked lightly.
Levin blinked, startled. "A… present?"
Zeramat nodded, fingers lifting to trace the shell of Levin's ear, brushing the serpent-shaped earring there with deliberate care.
"Yes, It is custom. A husband and wife give a present as a memory on their first night."
Levin hesitated, then a memory surfaced—the bracelet he brought here. The Iridescent stone bracelet.
"The present… It is still in the guest chamber," he said.
For a heartbeat, Zeramat looked genuinely surprised. Then his mouth curved again—this time warmer. Almost amused, "I thought you would refuse. But it's nice to hear you brought a present for me, consort."
Levin lowered his gaze and Zeramat rose from the bed, unhurried, the movement practiced and regal. He reached for a length of white linen and wrapped it around himself, the cloth stark against bronze skin marked by age and conquest.
"I must attend the court," he said, already turning toward the bathing chamber. Then he paused and glanced back over his shoulder, golden eyes holding Levin fast.
"When I return," he continued, voice low and intimate despite the distance, "I will accept your present."
A beat.
"And I will give you mine."
Levin's breath caught. He nodded, unable to find words. Zeramat inclined his head once, satisfied. "Remain here. You will be attended."
Then the Emperor walked away, bare feet soundless against stone, linen trailing like a banner of authority as he disappeared beyond the arch.
Levin remained seated on the bed, watching the space where Zeramat had been. When the silence finally settled, he let out a slow breath and raked a hand through his hair.
Behind his neck, the black lotus mark caught the morning light—dark, radiant, alive.
Claimed.
Married.
And very much awake.