The court of Wolves

The sun rose on the third day. The final grain of sand in the hourglass was ready to fall.

I stood in the shadows of the Throne Room, leaning against a marble pillar, arms crossed. The room was packed. The Sultan sat nervously on his throne. Jafar, looking haggard and **** after his failure at the Cave, stood by his side, gripping his cobra staff.

And in the center of the room stood Prince Achmed. The suitor. He was preening, dressed in ridiculous purple finery, checking his reflection in a hand mirror.

"The deadline is noon, Sultan!" Achmed announced, his voice grating and arrogant. "If the Princess has not chosen a husband, the law states she must marry... well, me. By default. Since I am the only royal suitor present."

"Yes, yes," the Sultan fretted, wringing his hands. "But Jasmine is... she is thinking! She needs time!"

"She has had time," Jafar hissed, stepping forward. "The law is clear, my Sultan. Order her to appear."

The heavy doors at the back of the room opened. Princess Jasmine entered.

The room went silent. She wasn't wearing the street-rat rags, nor the revealing harem silks of the bedroom. She wore the formal royal regalia of Agrabah, a heavy, jeweled bodice, a flowing cape of teal and gold, and a tiara set with a massive sapphire.

But it was the way she walked that drew every eye. She moved slowly, with a deliberate, heavy grace. She didn't glide like a maiden; she walked like a woman who was sore. Her hips swayed with a stiffness that spoke of deep, internal bruising. Her throat was covered by a thick gold choker, hiding the marks I had left, but her voice...

"I am here," she said. Her voice was a rasp. A husky, broken whisper that sounded nothing like the bell-like tone of a virgin princess. It was the voice of a woman who had spent the night with her mouth stretched open.

Prince Achmed frowned. "Princess? You sound... unwell."

"I have been screaming," Jasmine said simply, her eyes locking onto mine across the room. A dark smirk played on her lips. "At the... moon."

She walked past Achmed without looking at him. She stood before her father.

"Father," she rasped. "I have made my choice."

"You have?" The Sultan beamed. "Oh, wonderful! Is it Prince Achmed?"

Jasmine turned to Achmed. She looked him up and down, at his soft hands, his clean clothes, his arrogant sneer. She compared him to the Wolf standing in the shadows, the man who had ravaged her ass and throat, the man who smelled of leather and blood.

"Prince Achmed," Jasmine whispered, stepping close to him. "You want a wife to sit by your side and look pretty. You want a doll."

"I want a Queen," Achmed corrected, puffing out his chest.

"I am not a Queen," Jasmine said, her voice dropping to a low, dangerous growl that she had learned from me. "I am a slut for power. And you... you are weak."

The court gasped. The Sultan dropped his toy elephant. "Jasmine!" Jafar cried out, seizing the moment. "She is delirious! The heat has maddened her! Sultan, you must declare her unfit! By the ancient laws, if the Princess is unfit, the Grand Vizier must take the throne, and the Princess!"

Jafar raised his staff. The eyes of the cobra glowed red. He was trying to hypnotize the Sultan, a **** last gambit.

"Sultan..." Jafar droned. "You will order the marriage..."

I moved. I didn't run. I simply appeared between Jafar and the Sultan. I reached out and grabbed the golden staff. My hand closed around the cobra's head. CRUNCH. Metal twisted. The red eyes shattered. The staff snapped in two like a dry twig.

Jafar stared at the broken pieces in my hand, then up at my face. "You..." he whimpered.

"Your snake is dead, Jafar," I said calmly. "And your time is up."

I turned to the Sultan. "Your Highness. The threat to the city is gone. The Heartless are destroyed. The Cave is sealed. And your Vizier is a traitor who tried to sell your kingdom to darkness."

I tossed the broken staff at Jafar’s feet. "Guards," I commanded. "Take him."

The guards, who had been terrified of Jafar for years, looked at me. They saw the Apex Predator. They saw the man who had slaughtered the demons. They didn't hesitate. They grabbed Jafar by the arms.

"Unnand me!" Jafar shrieked as they dragged him away. "I am the Vizier! I will have my ****! You will all pay!"

His screams faded down the hall.

Prince Achmed looked at me, then at Jasmine, who was looking at me with pure, unadulterated hunger. "I... uh... I believe I have urgent business in... anywhere but here," Achmed stammered. He turned and fled the room.

The Sultan blinked, looking at his daughter and her bodyguard. "Well!" The Sultan clapped his hands. "That settles that! But... Jasmine? You still haven't chosen a husband!"

Jasmine walked over to me. She stood in front of the entire court, the ministers, the generals, her father. She reached out and took my hand. She placed it on her waist, right over the silk.

"I cannot choose a husband, Father," she rasped, leaning into my touch. "Because the only man I want... cannot stay."

She looked up at me. "But I have one night left," she whispered for only me to hear. "The contract said three nights. And I intend to pay my debts."

I looked at the Sultan. "The Princess requires... security," I said smoothly. "I will escort her to her chambers. We are not to be disturbed. By anyone."

The Sultan, oblivious to the raw sexual tension crackling in the air, nodded happily. "Of course, my boy! Excellent work! Guard her well!"

I guided Jasmine out of the Throne Room. She walked differently now, proud, owned, and ****. We walked through the corridors in silence. When we reached her door, Rajah was waiting. He stood up and bowed his head.

I pushed the door open. Jasmine walked in. She went straight to the center of the room and turned around. She reached for the heavy jeweled bodice of her royal gown.

"The sun is setting, Master," she croaked, her eyes dark. "This is the finale. I don't want to be a Princess tonight. I don't want to be a pet."

She let the heavy dress fall to the floor. She stood there in sheer, diaphanous silk underwear.

"Then what do you want to be?" I asked, locking the door and summoning a magical seal over it. No one would hear the screams tonight.

Jasmine dropped to her knees. She crawled toward me across the marble floor. "I want to be your legacy," she whispered. "Breed me. Breed me until I forget my own name."