Mating Season

Mard Geer could feel the air shift, the scent of his home changing. Soon the cursed mating season would be upon them all and he longed to hide underneath the bed covers and try to avoid it. It would not be possible; the warm dark burgundy comforter would not save him, and he knew it.

Pushing the blanket from his head he stared at ceiling of his bedroom. Every quarter century the Underworld would begin this vicious cycle of mating. It was the only way to counter all the war and death that surrounded the lives of demons. This was the nature of things, war would break out and many demons would die only for the next mating cycle to hit and new life could fill the realm.

Mard Geer had tried to fight against this endless cycle. He went as far as to quell uprisings and force peace upon the land, hoping that if they did not war heavily, perhaps nature could be averted. It was a failure and the mating season had once upon come back to the land and he understood that despite all his power, nature was simply stronger than he.

The heat, pain, and pleasure of mating season would last for five days. All his instincts would turn feral and he would fight whoever dared to present themselves as his mate. To date not a single demon had ever beaten him and he had never felt a call to willingly lose to one. Therefore, Mard had no equal, no one to submit to him or he would submit to. Alone, he would be alone again and if he allowed himself to admit it, that loneliness was the source of his pain.

As king, he should find a mate and continue his lineage, this was an expectation his people had for him. They had waited hundreds of years to hear the tiny scream of his first born and each mating cycle, there would be nothing. How was it possible that he was still alone after all this time? Even Keyes, for as ugly as he was, found himself a mate.

Mard sat up in the bed and looked around his quiet room and empty bed. Everything was pristine, books neatly on their bookcases and vases of roses in their full bloom. His tastes were simple but rich, for the king he would rather have three pieces of well-crafted ornate furniture in a room than a collection odd knickknack. He ran a hand over his face and sniffed the air, his nose scrunching at the perfume of it.

The king climbed out of his warm bed and headed for his morning shower. As he stood under the cascading water he sighed, why was this too difficult to bear? Why was this cycle harder than any of the others? What kind of cruelness would this year show him?

As his hand floated down his toned abs, he felt a small pulse of energy swirling low in his gut. His eyes wide, he knew exactly what was happening to him. For the first time in his life he was finally fertile, and he pressed his forehead against the smooth stone wall. If other demons detected this, his fight this year would be harder than any other cycle.

Mard Geer had always been unique among demons, he was not pure blooded but a half-breed. His father a fallen angel and his mother a succubus, both breeds known for short fertile cycles. The stronger the breed, the fewer of their population, it helped create balance in the Planes. This also kept resources, in check, otherwise wars would break out more often as food and energy ran low.

Ready to bash his head into the wall, Mard pulled back and decided against causing damage to his home. Instead he tried to ignore the energy pulse in his body and set about his morning grooming, as if this was just any other day. Though he was skilled as a liar to anyone, he often failed miserably at lying to himself.

As he came out of the shower and situated a towel around his lean hips a spike in power flooded the room and he groaned. Mard quickly finished brushing his hair before he came back out into his room to greet his, excitable guest.

"Baby boy!" his mother squealed and Mard tried to not flinch before the succubus queen.

"Mother, I am almost four hundred years old, no longer a baby," he shot back with a subtle arch of his brow and his mother had but simply giggled.