Chapter 6: The Betas' Duty
The betas’ hands were not unkind, but they were firm, impersonal. They guided Rio up winding stairs of black iron that spiraled into the eastern tower, their footsteps the only sound in the hollow ascent. Her body ached with a deep, bruised sweetness, and the echo of Agatha’s magicked cock still sparked along her nerves like distant sheet lightning. The scent of jasmine and ozone was a ghost in her lungs.
The door they opened revealed not a cell, but a cage of breathtaking beauty.The east tower room was a cylinder of night. Walls of blackened glass, seamless and cool to the touch, curved around a space dominated by a wide, low bed heaped with silver-grey silk. Above, the ceiling was clear, a perfect window to the sky where the waxing moon hung, crisp and sharp as a blade. Stained-glass panels set into the lower walls filtered the moonlight, casting fractured veins of crimson and violet across the dark floors. The air here was clearer, carrying a hint of night-blooming flowers from some hidden garden far below, but underneath, the low, rhythmic pulse of the covenstead’s power—Agatha’s power—thrummed like a heartbeat through the stone.
One beta, a woman with short-cropped dark hair and steady hands, began undoing the buttons of Rio’s shirt. The other, younger with watchful eyes, knelt to remove her boots.They did not speak. They worked with the quiet efficiency of attendants who had performed this service before.Rio stood passive, her mind adrift. The cool air kissed her skin as each layer was removed. The scent of her own heat, wild honey and damp soil now profoundly threaded through with smoked cedar and ozone, rose densely around her. She was laid back on the silk. The fabric was shockingly cool against her feverish skin, a momentary relief that lasted only until the friction of the sheets against her nipples made them peak into hard, aching points, and the emptiness between her legs yawned wide, a hollowed-out need.
The betas retreated to the foot of the bed, kneeling on a dark rug.They watched. Waited.The door opened, and the male beta from the throne room entered. He leaned against the wall by the door, his arms crossed, his gaze thoughtful, assessing.
Rio’s breath hitched. The heat, banked momentarily by the sheer overload of sensation with Agatha, was reigniting, pooling low in her belly. She felt a fresh trickle of slick seep from her, warm against her thigh.A soft, involuntary sound escaped her lips.The two women exchanged a glance. A silent understanding passed between them.The dark-haired one moved first, crawling onto the foot of the bed. She parted Rio’s thighs with confident, gentle pressure. The younger one approached from the side, her eyes on Rio’s face as she lowered her head to Rio’s breast.
The first touch of a tongue, hot and flat, against her clit made Rio jerk. The woman at her chest took a nipple into her mouth, suckling firmly, her hand cupping the other breast, rolling the nipple between her fingers.“Fuck,” Rio breathed, her head falling back into the silk. This was different.Not the brutal, possessive claiming of the High Alpha.This was service. Worshipful, attentive, focused entirely on her pleasure.It was disorienting.
The woman between her legs dove in, her tongue spearing into Rio’s cunt, lapping up the gather of slick with soft, hungry noises. She ate with a focused dedication, her nose pressed against Rio’s mound, her tongue flicking and circling her clit before plunging deep again. The simultaneous suction on her nipple, the firm kneading of her breast, created a feedback loop of sensation that coiled tight in Rio’s core.
“Yes, right there,” Rio moaned, her hips lifting off the bed, seeking more pressure. The beta’s tongue obeyed, fucking into her with a steady rhythm. The young woman at her breast switched sides, her mouth latching on with the same devoted intensity.
Rio’s hands tangled in the dark hair of the woman between her legs, not guiding, just holding on as the pleasure built, wave upon wave. The male beta watched from his post, one hand now moving slowly, deliberately, over the front of his trousers, stroking the hard line of his cock beneath the fabric.
“Come on her face.”
The voice was the dark-haired beta’s, muffled against Rio’s breast. The instruction was not for Rio, but for the woman feasting below.
Rio’s climax gathered, a tight, hot ball of lightning in her womb. The beta’s tongue flicked rapid-fire over her clit, and the woman on her breast pinched the other nipple just shy of pain.Rio shattered. Her back arched clear off the bed, a raw, guttural cry tearing from her throat as she came, the contractions milking the beta’s tongue, her slick flowing freely.
The woman between her legs drank it down, her throat working, until Rio collapsed back, spent and trembling.
But the heat did not break. It roared back, fiercer, hungrier, an unquenched fire in her blood.The emptiness was worse now, aching. She whimpered, her hips making small, involuntary circles against the wet sheets.
The younger beta moved up, her face glistening with Rio’s release.She kissed Rio deeply, letting her taste herself on the beta’s tongue. It was filthily intimate.The dark-haired beta shifted, crawling up Rio’s body. She kissed a trail from Rio’s navel, between her breasts, up her neck to her jaw. The male beta finally pushed off the wall.He approached the bed, his gaze locked on Rio. He unbuckled his trousers, freed his cock—hard, thick, utilitarian. He didn’t enter her.Instead, he gestured for the younger beta to move. He lay on his back beside Rio, his cock standing upright.The dark-haired beta understood. She guided Rio, turned her, positioned her over him.“Ride him,” she murmured, her breath hot in Rio’s ear. “Use what you need.”
Rio, her body operating on a primal logic, needed no further encouragement. She straddled the man, her knees sinking into the silk on either side of his hips. She reached down, guided him into her, and sank down in one slow, seamless motion.
He filled the aching void, a solid, grounding presence after the fleeting magic of Agatha. He was just a man, just a cock, and the sheer normalcy of it, the deep, full stretch, was its own kind of relief. She began to move, rising and falling on him, her head thrown back, her copper curls sticking to her damp neck.The two women did not idle. One kissed her shoulders, her back, her mouth. The other’s fingers found Rio’s clit, rubbing tight, swift circles as she fucked herself on the beta’s dick. The room filled with the sounds of it: skin slapping, wet thrusts, low male groans, and Rio’s high, desperate keening.
“You take it so well,” the dark-haired beta whispered, her lips on Rio’s shoulder blade.“So greedy for it. Doesn’t matter who, does it? Just need to be full.”
The shame was there, flickering, but it was drowned in a deluge of sensation. The man beneath her gripped her hips, his thrusts meeting hers, driving him deeper.The fingers on her clit were relentless. The pleasure was a tsunami, building from all points, overwhelming.
Rio came again, a harder, sharper crest that ripped a scream from her lungs. The beta beneath her grunted, his own release triggered by her violent clenching, his hips jerking up as he emptied himself inside her.
When she slumped forward, spent, he slipped out.The emptiness returned instantly, a yawning chasm. The heat was a living thing now, coiling in her belly, unsatisfied. The orgasms were just pressure valves, momentary leaks in a boiling geyser.The betas cleaned her again with damp cloths. They were gentle, thorough.The man left without a word. The women stayed, kneeling beside the bed, watching as Rio trembled, fresh slick already beading between her thighs.
The moon had climbed higher, its light a cold, surgical beam cutting across the bed. Rio stared at it, at the cold, distant rock. Her magic, her quiet, lunar-touched craft, felt like a pathetic, forgotten thing here. This tower was a gilded gutter for her biology, a beautiful place to be consumed by need.The door opened.Not a beta this time.
Agatha stood in the threshold, backlit by the torches in the hall. She had changed into a robe of deep crimson, her silver-streaked hair loose. She surveyed the scene: Rio glistening and trembling on the silk, the two watchful betas.Her storm-cloud eyes held no warmth, only a calculating satisfaction.
“Leave us,” she said, her voice soft but absolute.The betas vanished soundlessly. Agatha closed the door.The click of the latch was the loudest sound Rio had ever heard.
Agatha approached the bed, her scent—that intoxicating, terrifying blend of jasmine, cedar, and storm—filling the room, smothering the last traces of the betas. She looked down at Rio, at the mess of her, at the undeniable, humiliating proof of her unending need.
“They can tend the garden,” Agatha said quietly, “but only I can still the storm.”
She untied her robe, let it fall. Her body was a landscape of power, all lean muscle and commanding curves. And there, between her legs, her cock was already forming, not from magic this time, but from a deeper, more intrinsic will, shimmering faintly with that same dangerous voltage.Rio looked from it to Agatha’s face. She saw no tenderness, no lover’s grace. She saw hunger, possession, and a terrifying, lonely truth that mirrored her own.The High Alpha needed this, too.
Without a word, Rio turned onto her hands and knees, presenting herself, her ass in the air, her cunt dripping and offered.It was surrender.It was recognition.
Agatha’s hand smoothed over the curve of her spine, a proprietary touch.“Good girl.”
The weight of the bed shifted. The blunt, electric head pressed against her, not entering, just promising. Agatha leaned over her, her body covering Rio’s back, her mouth close to Rio’s ear.
“This heat won’t break with fucking,” Agatha whispered, the words a dark caress. “It will break when you accept what you are to me.Say it.”
Rio trembled. She knew the words.They were the oldest words.
“Yours,” Rio breathed, the syllable tearing from a place of raw, aching truth. “I’m yours.”
Agatha thrust in, a deep, conquering plunge that filled Rio to the point of breathlessness. The magic sparked, brighter than before, and Rio knew this was just the beginning of the storm.