The General part 44

We’re on the outskirts of the city, observing smoke travel into the clear sky. The sounds of life from within the city become louder with every step the beast under us takes. For the past four hours, I’ve been in a General-dick-infused haze. My lady bits have been tingling with pleasure, and I have a stupid smile on my face.

Now, my euphoria shrivels under the shadow of the enormous city. I’m nervous to return, because nothing good ever happens when I’m among so many Zolanos.

“You’re tense,” War observes.

“Yes,” I confirm.

“Remember that this is a vacation. Relax.”

It’s a vacation, but I’m already counting down the hours until we return to camp.

War rubs my upper arm and speeds us up. We cross some peddlers. Out of habit, I lower my head to hide my human features. I have to remind myself that I don’t have to hide anymore.

We cross the City’s golden gates and are approached by a thin man wearing a uniform I recognize from the palace.

“General War, Lady Joan of War,” he dips his chin in greeting.

Lady Joan of War? When did I get assigned that title?

“I was sent by The Queen to welcome you. I have brought presents on her behalf consisting of spices, fruits, and the finest of silks. If you would please follow me, I will direct you to a room she has honorably prepared for your stay.”

“No. I want nothing,” War replies instantly. “We’re staying at an inn.”

“But… what am I supposed to do with these gifts?” the startled attendant asks.

“Take them back, or dispose of them. I don’t care. Get out of my way.”

I turn to look at him. “War…” I don’t say anything, because it’s all in my look. He’s being rude and encouraging further sourness with the queen.

He stares at me, his stern look not cracking. I stick my bottom lip in a pout and cross my arms over my chest. He stays unreluctant for another second, and then he sighs with defeat. “What do you want me to do, wife?”

“W-wife?” the escort coughs. “I beg your mercy. I was not aware your status had been updated by marriage. Had I known, I would have addressed you properly.”

He apologizes to me, but looks at War as if nervous he’ll swing the nearest blade.

I raise my hands. “Calm down. You can call me Lady Joan.” I turn to War. “Can you have the gifts distributed at the orphanage, please? I’m sure the kids would appreciate fancy snacks and clothes.”

I’ve never worn Zolan silk before, but I can live without it.

“And can we respect the Queen’s arrangements?”

He grunts, his hands squeezing the reins tighter. “She treated you like a pet. I’d kill the bitch if I saw her again.”

The escort behinds us gasps. If War was a lesser man, he would be decapitated for his insolence. No one insults the Queen— well, except the unnamed King of Zolan.

“Uh, he didn’t mean that!” I toss to the escort. “He’s just a little grumpy. Right, War?”

War raises an eyebrow and says nothing. He’s uneager to adjust his ogre manners to impress anyone. How in the three worlds I’ve seen did I fall for his callousness?

“Can we stay at the palace? Please? I will avoid the Queen. I just don’t want you to seem rude by rejecting her accommodations.”

“She already knows I am like this. She can’t— and won’t do anything about it because—”

“Yes, yes. I know she can’t fire you because you’re the biggest and baddest man on Zolan.”

Seriously. I’m well acquainted with just how big he is.

“But it doesn’t hurt to be nice. Having good relationships will avoid problems.”

He grumbles under his breath like an irritated teenager.

“What?”

“I said fine. If this means so much to you, then I will give it to you.” He glares at the escort. “Take everything to the local orphanage and declare it was donated by Joan of War.”

“Oh, sir, I have other business to tend to. Can I have someone else do this?”

War glares. “Did I stutter?”

The poor man pales. “No, sir. Yes, sir. I’ll do it right away.”

I shake my head when he scurries away. “Why are you mean, War? You’re a sweetheart to me.”

He shrugs. “It gets things done. You should try it sometime.”

“Me?” I laugh. “I don’t have your abs or scars. I’m not scary.”

“You have my name. That makes you as strong as me, even without the muscles.” He beckons the beast to trot toward the Palace.

I shake my head. “No way. I’m not using your title like some spoiled heckler. That’s probably what your parents are expecting of me— to be a gold digger.”

“Gold digger? What does mining have to do with this?” he asks.

I chuckle. “Gold digging means I’m only with men for their money.”

“Well, why would you be with a male that cannot provide for you? If I ever go broke, I would not blame you for leaving.”

“I’m not leaving you rich or poor. I’ll be there whether your parents like it or not.”

He’s silent for a minute, before adding, “I knew you were different in more ways than how you look. You are a gem. Worth more than all the sparkly things in the palace.”

I’m stunned by his compliment. “Thank you, baby.”

“Excuse me?” he replies. “Why do you refer to me as an infant?”

“It’s an endearment.”

“I do not understand. How does reducing me to a crying, defecating, weak Zolano be an endearment? I thought you were attracted to the strength that comes with my current age and abilities.”

I laugh. “You’re so cute, War.”

“Confusing female,” he huffs. "Anyways, The Queen likely heard my parents are on the way to the City and extended the offer to stay in the palace to them. I guarantee you they are already there. They would never reject an offer of luxury.”

Fuck. Hopefully, our rooms are miles apart. Given the opportunity, War’s mother will probably break into our room and smolder me with a pillow.

I’m silent for the rest of the trip. The road to the Palace is not one that is often traveled by citizens, so we don’t come across many people. I’m grateful for the last stretch of silence.

When we arrive at the Palace, the gates are wide open, and two servants come to untie War’s saddlebags. He swings off and takes me by the waist to lift me down.

I look at the servants, who wear grey and look anywhere but at us. It makes me feel awkward to be tended to by strangers.

“Should I help them?” I whisper to War.

“Of course not. You are my woman, not my servant. Not anymore.” He takes a sword in his left hand and takes mine with his free one.  He leads the way into the palace. I notice guards stiffen as he passes by. I don’t blame them. These guys probably got the beating of a lifetime last time War and his Masters were here.

“War!”

Oh God, The Queen is headed right for us. She wears a golden dress that’s transparent and covers only her sex with a large golden leaf. Her flat chest is on display, and gold makeup matches her dress.

She smiles and her trail of attendants follow.

“You arrived right for dinner. Please, join us. Your parents are already waiting.”

War sulks for a few seconds before turning to me. I’m sure he’d prefer being in bed with me, because the big guy isn’t really interested in socializing.

He looks at me questioningly, giving me the option. When I nod, he turns back to The Queen. “Fine.”

“Magnificent! And greetings to you, Joan. Apologies again for treating you like…”

“Like a dog!” War finishes for her.

“War,” I whisper. “No.”

He wraps an arm around my waist and leads us away, muttering curses the whole time. We turn many halls until entering a magnificent dining area. The long table is rich in foods and holds thirty chairs which are slowly getting populated by Zolanos in their finest clothes and jewelry.

No one in here is carrying a weapon, but here I am with a viking boyfriend that looks like he’d rather eat a Zolano for dinner than the salads on the table.

People scoot their tall chairs into the table, as if scared War will sit next to them. He heads for the end of the table. I tug at his hand when I realize he’s going for the golden one— the one intended for The Queen.

“War,” I call for him. “Not there.”

“No.” He pulls out the chair, sets his ridiculously long sword on the table over his plate, and then he sits down.

I’m embarrassed by the amount of attention we’re getting. War, of course, is immune to it.

I pull out the seat beside him, but he yanks at my hips until I’m sitting on his lap.

“You sit here. You aren’t hiding from anyone. Everyone will know how beautiful my female is.”

Oh, boy. This will be an interesting dinner.

A/N: ENDING SOON! First chapter of NI’EV is below:

ROSA’S POV

“So yeah,” I sigh. “I’m incredibly lonely. All the girls have fun with their men, and I’m always the designated babysitter. Even Vee has a girlfriend! It sucks. And trust me, I’ve tried to date men— human, Ezronians, you name it.” I sigh. “It just never works out, you know?”

Big, brown eyes blink back.

“Milk?” little Michelle replies.

The baby girls is more interested in milk than my depressing love life. I groan and kiss her smooth forehead. She’s as cute as her mother, but not as good as giving advice. Since Nebula left on a date with Jaxxon, Michelle is the last trace of her I have left.

I give my small, ineffective therapist a bottle of milk and set her down. She knows how the system works— I rant about how this planet is full of eligible bachelors, but the only males I’ve had in my arms in the past three years are drooling, pooping, and wobbling, and then I pay her with milk for her troubles.

Honestly, I think she’s ripping me off, because after I’m done spilling my guts, the only advice she ever has to give is “milk?”

Yeah, kid! I’m struggling to get an adult version of milk! That’s the problem!

I examine the room of babies. They’re playing amongst themselves, using the toys Kira designed for them. Their parents are on a couple’s trip in the jungle. Although the girls don’t call it that, I know that’s what it is. I can’t complain about them, because they’re honestly good friends who often offer to babysit so I can have free time. I never accept because I hate being a third wheel in the trips.

“Who wants to be my next therapist?” I ask the kids as I pat Michelle’s head. “I have milk!”

“Rosa.”

I jump, and nearly fall on my sorry ass if it’s not for the hand on my shoulder.

“Are you alright? Forgive me. I did not mean to startle you.”

It’s Nie’v. I think that’s the longest sentence he has said to me all year, because the guy usually keeps to himself. He’s often lost in books, and disappears into the jungle for weeks, probably doing things that would put me in cardiac arrest like hunting, exercising and other sweating-related shit.

I know he’s harmless. He never steps too close to females. I’ve seen him play with babies, too. My ovaries pulse along with my heart whenever I see one of these jacked, huge guys playing with babies the size of their forearms.

I’ve been around him long enough to know that he’d gut himself with a smile before he hurt us, but a part of me refuses to accept that. My brain shuts down whenever a man comes too close or says anything social. I can work with them perfectly fine, but as soon as they crack a joke or compliment me, I become as silly as the babies I babysit.

“Uh, eh, uh… It’s okay?” I stand up to escape his hold.

I can’t function at all if a man touches me. It wasn’t always like this, but then I confessed my crush to my middle school crush and got humiliated for all of YouTube to see. One million views, thirty-thousand comments later, and I still have an existential crisis even on a planet that will treat anything with a womb like a Queen. I could have any man I wanted, but still choose to spend my Fridays with milk-hungry Michelle and her dozen cousins.

Ni’ev doesn’t react to my brain-glitch. He must be used to seeing me freak out over nothing.

“I was wondering if you have seen Kyros,” he says.

“Right.” My shoulders relax, because I can see that he’s only here to work with me, not hang out.

“He went on the trip with the others.”

Ni’ev frowns. “Why do you never go on the trips?”

Uh, because I’m depressingly single? Can you let me ride your dick, give you babies, and solve this problem for me?

Of course I don’t say that. I think I would choke if I attempted it.

Instead, I shrug. “Why don’t you go?”

He stares at me for a long, long time. Enough time that I consider picking up the nearest crawling Ezronian and cower behind them.

Finally, he looks away, taking those beautiful eyes of his from me. “Tell Kyros to search for me when he arrives.”

“Okay.”

Damn it. Damn it! This is my chance to spark something. Ni’ev is hot as sin, but he’s too respectful to make a move on me even after three years. He’s perfect— not only because he’s seven feet of muscled, well-endowed, and looks great with a baby in his arms. He’s kind to others.

Michelle grins up at me with a bottle of milk in her chubby little hands, as if screaming,  ‘do it! You can stop being a lonely loser, auntie! You got this! I’ll give you some of my milk if you succeed!’

But I let my little therapist down, because I’m a traumatized, horny, lonely mess. I say nothing. When Ni'ev walks away, I frown at my feet.

“Rosa.”

I tense and look up again. “Y—yes?”

He holds my gaze again, and I stop breathing. My body temperature rises, too. I should be used to this because it happens whenever a shirtless, handsome man looks at me for too long, but the effect is still jarring.

What is behind those intelligent eyes of his? Attraction? Curiosity?

Will he ask me out? Will I say yes?

“You have a streak of baby feces on your left cheek.” With that, he turns and leaves.

I fall to my knees, ready to cry. Can’t I be the baby for once? Can’t I be the one that’s hugged and cooed at? I’m so tired of trying to be strong..

Why is it this hard to appear as a confident, funny young woman? I do it so well with the girls, so why isn’t it the same with men?

Am I going to die alone after all?

A little hand claims my fingers. Michelle grins at me with the few teeth she proudly owns.

Yeah, I’m not alone. I have Michelle— my useless therapist.

“I love you too, baby girl,” I tell her.

“Milk?” she replies.

My face falls, but then I’m laughing. The noise attracts babies, and now I’m surrounded by laughing, confused babies. I pick up all of them and kiss their cheeks.

A shadow passes by the entrance. I look up and see Ni’ev walking away. Huh. I thought he left long ago.

How strange.