Spawn

The Fruit of the Covenant

Minutes passed in agony, each contraction rolling over her in relentless waves. Zara gripped the edges of the altar, her knuckles white as she fought the urge to bear down. Her breaths came in shallow, trembling pants, the pressure within her growing until it felt like she might tear apart. "Haaaa... ooooh..." she groaned, each sound a desperate attempt to resist the instinct to push. Her eyes squeezed shut as her mind blurred, the pain consuming her thoughts, her body screaming for relief.

Her belly tightened again, her entire abdomen rock-hard, the pressure intensifying, building from within her like a storm. She could feel the child descending, pressing relentlessly, the urge to push stronger than ever. "No... no... not yet... ahhh..." she gasped, her breaths coming in erratic whimpers as she strained to hold back, her body crying out for release, for something to ease the relentless pressure.

"Hnnngh... oh, please... please..." she moaned, her voice trembling with desperation, the strain making her toes curl, her legs trembling as she resisted the overwhelming urge to push. Another wave hit, stronger than the last, and she arched her back, her face contorted in pain as she cried out, "Ahhh... I can't... it's too much..."

In the midst of the mounting pressure, a primal need rose within her. She knew she needed him—needed his strength, his touch, his presence to bear the weight of this task. She didn't think; she simply called to him, her voice low and trembling, her words thick with pain and need.

"My lord... please... come to me," she gasped, her eyes shutting tight as she whispered his name, her hands pressing against her taut, aching belly. "I need you... help me." she cried.

The air around her thickened, shadows pooling at the edges of the chamber, swirling like dark smoke. Zara's labored breaths filled the silence, each exhale clouding in front of her as a familiar, heavy warmth spread over her. She felt his presence before she saw him, a commanding energy that seemed to press down on the room itself. And when she opened her eyes, there he was, standing before her—solid, imposing, his gaze locked onto her with a mixture of satisfaction and hunger.

As his presence filled the room, the elders who surrounded her suddenly grew silent, their eyes glossing over, their bodies held in perfect stillness, as if frozen by an unseen force. They remained locked in their positions, suspended mid-chant, utterly unaware of his arrival. The power he radiated was meant for her alone, and the knowledge sent a thrill through her despite the pain wracking her body.

"You called for me, Zara," he murmured, his voice low and resonant, filling the chamber like a thick, intoxicating smoke that only she could breathe. "You are in pain, and you seek my aid?"

She nodded, her breaths coming fast, her body trembling as another contraction built, her belly taut and straining. "Yes... the pressure... it's too much. I need... I need you," she whispered, her voice breaking as she looked up at him, her eyes pleading. "Help me... relieve me... please, my lord."

A dark smile played across his lips, and he moved closer, his gaze raking over her laboring form, lingering on the fullness of her belly, the way her legs were spread wide, her skin glistening with the sheen of her efforts. "You are in the throes of creation, my chosen," he murmured, his voice thick with satisfaction. "And you wish for my touch, even now?"

"Yes... please..." she gasped, her fingers reaching out for him, her body overcome by a desperate need. "Mount me... claim me... help me through this."

In one fluid motion, he positioned himself over her, his hands resting on her hips as he lowered himself, his form powerful and overwhelming. "Then I will give you what you desire, Zara. Allow me to ease your pain."

With a single, deliberate thrust, he filled her completely, stretching her beyond what she thought possible, her body opening to him as he moved within her, each stroke measured and commanding. The mixture of pleasure and pain left her gasping, and she clung to him, her nails digging into his shoulders as he took her, his movements matching the rhythm of her contractions, amplifying the pressure, drawing her closer to the edge of release and relief.