Chapter 272: Within The Beast’s Den
[Silthara Palace — Malik’s Private Chamber — Continuation]
Silence.
Levin remained suspended within the coils of the enormous silver tail, firm, possessive, and absolute. Before him...the First Beast continued staring into his eyes. Golden irises had narrowed into thin slits.
Not a single trace of gentleness remained, only instinct, ancient...primal...and terrifyingly patient. The beast--aka--Zeramet repeated the question, lower and slower this time.
"...Where..." His thumb slowly brushed against Levin’s jaw. "...did that corrupted serpent touch you?"
Silence.
Levin looked directly into those burning eyes; he understood immediately. Reason would not work. Arguments would not work because this was no longer the Malik of Zahryssar. This was the first predator ever blessed by Lord Urzan.
The ruler who had once stood above every serpent.
Levin answered quietly. "...He touched me only because I allowed him to believe he had already won."
The golden eyes never blinked; the massive silver tail coiled tighter around Levin’s waist, leaving no room to retreat as the first beast leaned closer and his voice was barely above a whisper.
"So...he touched you."
Levin refused to break eye contact, and for several long moments, Zeramet said nothing. His gaze slowly traveled over Levin’s body, as though searching for the invisible stain left by another’s touch.
Then, at last—
"Where?"
The single word fell like a command. Levin instinctively swallowed; the pressure pouring from Zeramet’s presence crushed against his instincts, making it difficult to breathe, and his voice wavered.
"My... legs... my waist..." Another painful swallow and his fingers curled involuntarily. "...and...my neck."
Zeramet tilted his head, his golden eyes narrowing. "...That’s all?"
Levin nodded, a pained groan escaping him.
"...Yes."
Silence.
Then Zeramet’s other hand rose, his thumb brushing slowly over Levin’s Adam’s apple; his voice was low, calm, and far more terrifying than anger.
"You still smell like him, and I despise it when another creature lays its hands on what belongs to me."
His fingers slid higher before curling firmly around Levin’s throat, not enough to choke him, only enough to remind him exactly who held control.
"The only one permitted to touch you..." His grip tightened ever so slightly. "...is me."
When Levin met those ancient, beastlike eyes, there was no warmth within them. Only the cold certainty of a predator that had ruled long before kingdoms were built.
Zeramet leaned closer until only a breath separated them; the chamber itself seemed to fall silent.
"So answer me now, my moonflower. Who..." His fingers pressed just enough to make Levin’s pulse race beneath them. "...do you belong to?"
The First Beast’s pheromones flooded the chamber like an overwhelming tide, ancient, commanding, and impossible to resist. Levin trembled, his instincts surrendering before his mind could object, and his voice came out little more than a whisper.
"...I..." He swallowed hard, his breathing hitched. "...I belong to you, only you, Zer."
Silence.
The chamber itself seemed to listen; Zeramet remained motionless, his golden eyes fixed upon Levin as though weighing every syllable against instinct itself.
Then...a slow smile appeared, not warm, not gentle, but the satisfied smile of an apex predator reclaiming what it believed had always been its own.
"...Good."
His voice rumbled through the chamber like distant thunder.
"You remembered."
The enormous tail around Levin’s waist tightened, not enough to injure him, but enough to remind him that escape had never been an option. Then he leaned forward, his nose brushed lightly against Levin’s neck once more, and he inhaled deeply.
Again and again.
His hand slowly rose to Levin’s shoulder, brushing away an invisible trace as though trying to erase the memory of another serpent’s touch.
"No one...marks what is mine."
Levin felt the oppressive weight of the Dark Lotus pheromones pressing against him from every direction. This was not the gentle Zeramet who teased him beneath moonlit lights.
This was the First Beast, and every instinct within the Prime Alpha demanded certainty. Possession, protection, and dominance over every threat.
The Beast lowered his forehead until it rested briefly against Levin’s; their lotus marks glowed in response. Silver answered, black. Ancient power resonated between them.
"I know your heartbeat. I know your scent. I know your soul." His golden eyes narrowed. "And yet...someone else dared to lay hands upon my Moonflower."
The chamber trembled; a deep growl rolled through the darkness.
"I ended his life...but instinct remains unsatisfied."
Levin slowly lifted one hand, despite the danger and despite the overwhelming pressure...he gently rested his palm against Zeramet’s cheek.
The silver scales beneath his fingers were cold. "Zer..."
For the briefest heartbeat...the beast was gone. Something softer flickered behind those molten-gold eyes, then it vanished.
The darkness returned with frightening swiftness. Zeramet’s pupils narrowed into thin slits as a possessive growl rumbled deep within his chest.
"...His scent is still on you." His voice was quiet and deadly; his gaze swept over Levin with the certainty of an ancient king claiming what was his.
"I’ll erase it and I’ll make your very soul remember that every breath you take...every instinct you possess...every part of your existence...belongs to me."
Levin trembled, and for the first time since becoming Zeramet’s mate...for the first time since calling him his husband...fear gripped his heart because of the ancient beast standing before him.
Those golden eyes no longer belonged to the gentle Zeramet he knew; they belonged to the First Beast. A creature ruled by instinct, possession, and absolute dominance.
Levin’s throat tightened.
’...Can I survive him tonight?’
Before Levin could gather another breath, Zeramet’s hand closed around the back of his neck, and without warning...he pulled him forward. Their foreheads nearly collided before Zeramet claimed his lips in a fierce, possessive kiss.
It was neither gentle nor patient. It was the unmistakable declaration of an ancient predator staking his claim.
The silver tail tightened around Levin’s waist, leaving no distance between them as the First Beast held him there with absolute certainty.
"Mmph... wait..."
Levin’s protest barely escaped before Zeramet captured his lips, and Levin’s world narrowed to the pressure of those lips, cruel, demanding, and utterly without mercy. The serpent tongue slid past his teeth before he could brace, thick and foreign and impossibly warm, mapping the inside of his mouth like a creature learning the contours of its new den.
Levin’s hands flew up and pushed against Zeramet’s chest. The muscle there was stone, unyielding, with the faint shimmer of scales catching the sunlight. He pushed again, harder, and yet he did not move.
Instead, the tail around his waist tightened more as a warning.
The silver coils constricted at his ribs, forcing the air from his lungs in a sharp gasp, and Zeramet used the opening, diving deeper, tongue curling around Levin’s own, dragging him into a rhythm that was less kiss and more consumption.
Levin’s fingers curled onto Zeramet’s bare chest, not pushing now but holding, as his body betrayed every instinct that told him to flee. Levin’s knees buckled, but the tail held him upright, kept him suspended in the beast’s grip like an offering.
Zeramet’s free hand found his jaw. Thumb pressed hard against the hinge, tilting his head back, opening his throat further. The angle changed, the tongue went deeper, and Levin felt the faint scrape of fangs against his lower lip, not breaking skin but close.
A warning and a promise of what would happen if he tried to pull away again.
The tongue curled again, stroking along the roof of his mouth, and Levin’s entire body shuddered. A sound escaped his throat, not quite a moan, not quite a whimper, something caught between surrender and shame.
Zeramet swallowed it; he took it into his own mouth and answered with a low, rumbling growl that vibrated through Levin’s chest, through his bones, through the coils that held him prisoner.
The sound was not human. It was the noise a predator made when it finally had its prey exactly where it wanted it.
And Levin felt his body respond.
Felt the heat pool low in his belly, felt his lips part further, and felt his tongue finally move against him. A response, an answer, and a surrender he hadn’t consented to but couldn’t stop.
Zeramet felt that too; the golden eyes, still open, still watching, narrowed with something that looked almost like satisfaction. His hand slid from Levin’s jaw into his hair, fingers tangling in the black waves, gripping hard enough to sting.
He pulled Levin closer and deepened the kiss until there was nothing left but the taste of him, the weight of him, and the absolute certainty that every inch of Levin’s mouth now belonged to only him.
When Zeramet finally pulled back, Levin gasped like a drowning man breaking the surface.
"HAH.....HAHHHH....."
Air, light, and the chamber swam back into focus around him, the sunlight from the window dancing on the stone walls. His lips were numb, his tongue felt foreign in his own mouth, and his breath came in ragged, uneven pulls that he couldn’t seem to control.
A thin thread of saliva connected their mouths, silver and glittering in the low light.
Zeramet’s tongue flicked out, breaking it and tasting the last of Levin on his lips.
"Better," he said, his voice low and rough like stones grinding together. "Now you taste like me."
Levin gulped and swallowed Zeramet’s saliva, and seeing his throat bob, Zeramet smirked, and then his thumb found his lower lip, pressed, and traced the swollen curve where the fangs had grazed.
His golden eyes followed the motion like he was memorizing the shape of Levin’s mouth.
The tail loosened slightly, just enough for Levin to draw a full breath, but he didn’t move, couldn’t. His legs wouldn’t hold him if the coils released entirely, and they both knew it.
Zeramet’s hand was still in his hair, fingers tightening, then loosening. A slow, deliberate rhythm, petting and owning.
"You gulp very beautifully my moonflower," Zeramet said, and his thumb moved from Levin’s lip down to his chin, then lower, tracing the column of his throat. "Now...show me where he touched you exactly."
Levin’s eyes widened. "I already told you—"
"SHOW ME."
The words were soft, but the tone was not.
Levin’s breath caught, his hands were still fisted in Zeramet’s chest, and he realized his husband is definitely not a gentle serpent, and today...is going to be very tough for him.
Zeramet’s tongue traced a line down Levin’s chest, slow and deliberate, tasting salt and skin. Levin’s hands found Zeramet’s shoulders.
"Zer...hngh....haa....aaaahhhhh...."
Zeramet smiled against his skin, sharp, predatory, and beautiful; his mouth descended lower. His hands followed, and Levin let himself be claimed, inch by inch and touch by touch. Then the silver tail slowly loosened from around Levin’s waist, but the crushing pressure never disappeared.
If anything... It grew heavier. The air itself seemed to bend beneath Zeramet’s overwhelming presence, his pheromones flooding every corner of the chamber until escape no longer felt possible, and his golden eyes never left Levin’s.
"Show me every place that creature dared to touch."
Zeramet stepped back and then he changed.
It was not painful to watch. It was beautiful in the way a storm is beautiful: inevitable, overwhelming, leaving no room for anything but awe. The silver scales rippled across Zeramet’s skin, receding into his chest, his shoulders, and his face, leaving behind bronze flesh that seemed to drink the moonlight.
His frame shifted, the serpent’s mass condensing into human proportions, still enormous, still predatory, but less beast. His hair, bleached to silver-white, fell past his shoulders like a banner of frost. His eyes remained darker, and he stood completely naked.
Levin’s breath stopped because between his legs... His two cocks were not huge as usual.
It was too huge to even describe.
The first was thick and veined; the second sat below it, slightly smaller but still larger than any human cock Levin had ever seen, the twin heads dark and flushed, the veins darker, pulsing with slow, patient blood.
"Why is it—" Levin’s voice cracked as he swallowed. "Why is it too huge?"
Zeramet’s laugh was low, like distant thunder; he did not answer. He just walked to a heavy chair near the window and sat. The posture was relaxed, one arm draped over the back, legs spread wide to accommodate his full weight. The twin cocks rested against his thigh, heavy and waiting.
Levin stayed on his knees on the diwan. The sunlight pooled around him, turning his pale skin brighter. He could feel the beast’s gaze on him like a physical weight, those golden eyes tracking every flutter of his pulse, every twitch of his fingers.
Levin still could taste his tongue and feel it in the heat blooming low in his belly and then...
"Strip...and show me where exactly that corrupted serpent dared to touch you...my beautiful moonflower."
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