Once upon a time, in a faraway land, there was a dragon called Drak Ladon who sought to be the greatest dark lord. He sought to rule the world with an iron grip. That was expected of someone like him. After all, he could call a god his father. This dragon, however, had competition, for he was the last born. 
The firstborn had already managed a spy network and had his talons in at least three other kingdoms. His sister, the second born, was a successful spice merchant who all but ruled those nations across the desert. She could even call the very deserts to smite her foes. The third had surpassed her with his bakery chains. The White Fang Cakes and Meals also acted as the also held fourth-ranked adventure inn which had at least three heroes who had killed a god. Along with being s a high-ranked member of the first-ranked guild he was only continuing to gain power. Thus this act would have to outdo them all.
	So, for his first act on his own, he would make a hoard of wealth with a whole kingdom devoted to him. He thought of a plan for capturing this kingdom ‌to outdo his family. Mere conquest would not be enough it had to be special.The kingdom of Aurumfuri whose king had three daughters, the youngest of which he could use. He would rule this kingdom and have a blood heir to follow him should he have to leave or be killed.
 Thus, he started his plan by pretending to be a divine guardian angel sent by a sympathetic god. Her personal angel to defend her alone. He masked himself as a beautiful pearly white armored defender for her; along with the destruction of her first suitor the noble Pertion. He helped the princess and became her confidant. Even though he was her closest friend and perhaps his heart had made a place for her, his plan would remain. This kingdom would be his. 
Even though through the years he softened, his plan remained he would claim this kingdom. It would be the beginning of his true hoard. But perhaps the princess need not die. Still under his thumb, she would live as his bed warmer and perhaps mate at least for a little while.  So it was on his last day before this plan on the eve of her 19th birthday went into action, he visited her one last time before his ultimate conquest. 
It was the dragon that descended from the skies in his disguise. He took the form of an angel, a warrior of light. The jet-black hair, blazing coal eyes, and his scaled-back were the only hints at his true form. That, heavenly features and the white pearly armor floated down in the moonlight. It was perfect as he smirked, thinking to himself. The story of this would make him a legend.
He gently descended onto the largest tower, landing on the window. This was the way he had visited the princess ever since she was 8. She was, as usual, up reading a book that bored him as he sat in one of the main chairs. His chair was the one white sofa with a carving of a dragon, an old dragon named Iwrn. 

	He had met him once, his mind flashing back to that old golden bastard chuckling at him, even tossing some trinkets at him. There was no greater insult to a dragon than charity. That golden bastard was strong, far stronger than him at the moment, but he would find him once he captured this kingdom and ruled it properly.
 The insult alone was enough for me to kill him, but then he beat me with one hand without any thought, he reminisced. He was so lost in thought that he barely heard her greeting jolting upwards to look at him.

"Good evening Gwinth. How was your day ?” She asked.

“It was fine. The defeat of the goblins, orcs, and a mere dragon was too easy for a servant of the gods. How are you still working on your books? I hear your family is not as harsh to you as it once was, but how is court life? The nobles I bet are still up their own ass fat of their own greed and everything is far too fucking formal,” he spoke with a heavenly tone.
“Yes, and they are trying to get me to marry some fat bastard with a twig mustache and disgusting hygiene. Were they able to clean the pit stains from his shirt? And have they removed the smell of piss from his clothes? Have heard rumors though of a handsome, glorious,, cunning dragon with a growing horde –
“Yes I am aware Gwinth. I have to meet that man every time at court. Is the dragon your type ?” she interjected.
The dark lord grinned. His plot would surpass another lesser beast's schemes. He would purge the nobles after his conquest; those who kneeled would live. He scoffed, trying to beat down the pride in his voice, sounding as angelic as possible as he thought of himself and his rise.
“It’s of no concern; I will handle him. Should I guide your expansion to the east to help with your protection? Should you get your dragon friend to help ?” she chirped, glancing at the princess
“I -Ah, no he is not sure about such things” he spoke, looking up to the roof. It was easier to talk to her when she was younger, but times had changed. He still missed that little curious child a bit, but such thoughts threatened his glory. 
She grunted at that question as her blonde hair stayed in its bun as she laid back. The night gown hid the major features but the curves of her hip were clear to him.The light glimpses of her breast shifted as she pulled the book upward hiding behind the tome. Her red velvet eyes stared down at the book, her hand covering the title. The soft hands gingerly lay there as the perfect nails twinkled in the light. Smiling, she read tapping her book occasionally. She seemed engrossed by the content only glancing up to stare at her angel.
“See you tomorrow, Gwinth,,” her sweet voice spoke as she glanced at him.
Gwinth rose with a bow then he swiftly turned away. Under his pearl white helm, he left with a serpent grin, filled with the monstrous joy of prey captured.
 She would see him of course.In chain at his feet as he finally staked and staked his claim over her.  As his great possession, at his throne, proof of his victory. The thought gave him such joy that all the dragons would be impressed and even better, his father would notice him. They would all see him at his rightful place at the top. 
  With that thought, he jumped out the window and began his flight. His feathered wings flapped quickly as he hovered for a moment, then he pushed forward on a moonbeam, moving as fast as possible. His wings sent light rain down as he escaped the city.

The princess lowered the book she was reading with a grin. He was always like this, so easy to read. She thought. From the first day, she could tell he was not an angel. The appearance was well done, but it was when he spoke the illusion shattered. He was far too coarse for an angel and he lacked real moral fiber. After the incident with the noble Sir Pretorius and the destruction of that family, she knew he was a dragon.
 Most likely he had a scheme involving her but it was not the strangest thing. He was honest, blunt even, with everything.Never sugarcoating nor lying to her about anything she asked, spreading passion like the picture of the world outside of the politics of her court. She would not have him escape her. He was her shining light in the world of court politics and all those annoyances. He helped her when no one else would or dared. As she closed the book, its title shined through the dark before she put out the candle: Aphrodite's Book of Love Spells and great bindings…



He rushed out of the capitol, passing the gleaming towers and grand cathedrals. His flight was swift; most who glimpsed him only saw a silhouette that swiftly escaped the capital. Then the once angel shot forward in a pillar of fire, as he rocketed away. He moved past the surrounding roads and villages heading to a forest past the ruin of the Pertion manor and that spitter of the fiend orcs.His own lair lay a bit past that ruin and was nestled in the cool caves of the mountains to the north. Damn it well then time for direct action, he fumed.How dear does she not take the bait to attack my cave? Damn, that's all.
 As he landed in his dark cave through the winding tunnels to the door leading to his horde. Most dragons would not even have a door but he had learned from his older brother who lost his horde to a thief. Sometimes a door would work well to ward off fools. A good master learns from his others.
He blazed past his minions as they worked his dark designs. Mostly kobolds and goblins, but he had plotted to gather greater forces.They lived in make-shift huts in tunnels with trolleys to the mines. His minions were miners and smiths, digging up ore and forging arms and armor for his conquest. He would undertake the ultimate invasion soon but first, he needed sleep. This disguise annoyed him greatly.

 His minions noticed their master approach and opened the massive copper doors to his personal chambers. He crashed into the pile of jewels, gold coins, and treasures, removing his disguise with a clattering bang.The pearly armor and big chest plate fell off as he took a form much more comfortable.
 The form was humanoid, much like his father. With human-looking eyes, a face of deep purple eyes, and far more boyish features save his mouth, which was more lizard-like than human with the correct number of limbs and dragon wings, and ash-gray hair over his head. That with four wings and sharpened scales of a dark shining crimson made him look more like a draconic angel or a demon. Much closer to his father, but far smaller and much less impressive. 
He was, after all, still a dragon. So like any good dragon, he readied himself to sleep on his bed, which was just gold coins as he laid down on it. He thought over his plans and machinations but that princess would creep in as she did after the first seven years of his actions, beating them down.  Slowly he just dozed off drifting to sleep as any magnificent dragon would; his mother would have been proud.
He was interrupted from his draconic birthright by one of his many subordinates. He had, like most things of great power, a connection with the lesser races. His mind flashed back to the first time he met his butler. He was hatching and had subjugated a wandering goblin that dared to attack his cracked egg. Through his slivered tongue and wild displays of magic, he was carried by his mother and was praised rightly for the first time.
That goblin became his first ally and perhaps friend but dragons did not use that word. The dragon glanced down, seeing that it was a goblin in a simple uniform and humble black two-piece suit with clear specialties standing at the base of the horde with a shined platter and a bell.  His oldest and most loyal underling, the shaman Delos. 
He turned to his manservant and noticed a blue kobold dress in pants and a small silver necklace joined him. This kobold was a master forger and the other had to help him when he was young and unfortunately weak. She had shown him the first paths of magic before his father did. She was like an older sister to him, one he ensured would be with him; extending her life was his first great feat. It was the first to get praise from his family more so his older brother and sister, even if begrudgingly. His two greatest servants looked up at him silently waiting on him. Sighing, he rolled towards them down his gilded pile of gold things still tired from looking at them.
“Sir there is some trouble with your plan. The scouts report some problems,” Delos stated in a professional tone. He had come far from his roots, barely able to speak the dragon tongue through the long and painful training for common, and all other languages had dragon learned. Such was demanded of a staunch ally of a dragon.
Those words woke him up. He turned quickly, bumping his tail against a gained statue, as he looked at the two. 
“What is wrong? August, is there more bad news?” he enquired trying to cool his boiling blood.
 August the kobold coughed a small amount of flame into her palm, a green flame as her flowery voice came glancing down at the floor. She was always cute even before he had empowered her, extending her lifespan and granting her closer to the dragon she wished for. She was a smith working away at the trash and filth in that unbecoming armory. However, she dreamt of more. So she learned from the scraps of his mother's lair, searching the ravaged remains of wizard’s books, the torn banners, or any that survived the power of his mother. It was all devoured.
She learned about towers, empires, and the basics of magic. It was while she was reading, so engrossed by this he wandered up to her as a weak welp unsure of the world and his glory.  It was curious mostly that attracted him, the fact a kolodad acting alone and not acting as a constant choir to his mother. He promised her power and wealth. She refused as she had no need for such things. 
For a moment he faltered, unsure of what to do, but then he understood. With a smile, he promised her knowledge and the ability to learn beyond her station. This was the key to her nature as a kobold taking over, submitting to his majesty. She showed many things but the one he held dear was the first glimpse of the outside world, staring over the sunrise at the opening of his mother's lair. With that, he swore she would be with him, the first true centerpiece of his horde. 
“Well some of them have been captured by the big pink ones–right they are humans–and they got all of it, sir,” August said looking away. Her master was not always level-headed, but what would you expect of dragons?
“How did they know where my people were  ?” he asked, a sudden heat rising from his body.
August looked to the ground and sighed. She felt the weight of her master's fury and kicked a rock as she muttered out the report. Although she knew him and possibly some of the few who could dare to insult him he was still a dragon and every dragon was irritable and short-tempered at the best of times.
“No clue boss. They just appeared and captured them.Over Fifty and their minerals and gear too. It was those Arufronian soldiers.Yer wooing the princess so you could get ‘em back, boss man.” August flat spat dropping the formality.
Drak growled in a bitter rage. To use such a cadence would be suicide for anyone else. He bristled at the simple jest, his claws flexing out. However, it was an honor these two would live unharmed. Family and these two can have that right to live after a disrespect. His once beautifully hand cracked became rigged and spiked. His eyes lost any pupils as he began to fume in rage.
He was shocked at how some of his men could be captured. His preparation was impeccable, hiding his troops in old mines and unknown paths.  Taking only enough to build just to make sure it could be reasonably blamed for environmental degradation.They mined their ore from places most races couldn't even reach. It was truly aggravating especially since Drak didn't even get a chance to finish his nap.
 They could earn the right to be rude to him, she who taught him to lead and magic, and the goblin who was like a father other than his true father. Plus this meant she only spoke like this once something was truly dire.
“I’ll try to get them back, in total this is minor. I thought it would be worse,” he snapped trying to sleep. He needed to think nothing better for his thinking was sleep.
“It is, sir,” Delos said.
“What? What is it?”  the dragon said dumbfounded.
“Yer girl, her fiance is gifting our lads’ heads boss ” August finished.
“Wha-“ He began as the ground began to shake. His two attendants then assumed the position of growling to avoid the natural outburst. Lighting and lava danced through the lair often clashing and mixing to make a fatal show. For the briefest moment, his form shook revealing the dragon in all its glory.
Drak Ladon was a large serpentine creature with four powerful legs. His wings were jet black with bat-like, lined with golden bone spikes at the tips.They flapped in an uncontrollable wraith. Jaws stronger than any machine or warrior snapped sparks and embers spilling out onto the ground. Raging a bit, stomping about his lair destroying a bronze centerpiece for his lair. 
He spat through a deep breath.“Fine fine. I am calm. His family would be broken without a doubt. I will personally see that family burned. What day is it and is there any other news ?” That noble will be burned at a stake once I stake my claim. 
"You overslept my lord. Today is the wedding, your quarters were too hot to enter until now. It is to be done at the wedding today, unfortunately,” Delos added, stepping back with a waddle ducking behind a rock narrowly dodging an electric fireball.
“LIKE HELL IT IS!” The dragon raged and burst into flames.
He shot out of his lair. His form burned purple as he moved back through the tunnels. He rampaged out, his body violently shifted between human and dragon for another moment. His fury ricked his cave until he was enrolled in fire rocketing out of his cave and punching a hole at the top of it.
His wraith turned against the kingdom flying forward, darkness following.  Those who dared to stare upward saw fire dashing across the sky.His large dragon wings brought a gale as he drove past the farmlands and peasants. How dare they take what he had. He would kill all of them and save the princess for himself. She was his. His slave and servant.
All those who looked in the air saw the dark shadow of a purple dragon soaring to the royal castle. Most shrugged and assumed the worst, what could they do to stop a dragon? Some towns and villages half-heartedly raised the alarm, church bells rang out as runners dashed out to give work.  It was sad they liked the family but dragons do this from time to time. The false night swept over the kingdom and for miles, around only Landon and fire could be seen in the sky.Some assumed the whole kingdom would be destroyed, dragging some of their friends and families down into the cellars.  They prayed that the capitol would be enough.
Those who kept watching the flying firestorm would have seen the dragon shrink and turn into something much smaller. The guards at the gate flew off from Drak mere passing. The water boiled and the townspeople felt unable to stand the heat. Drak mind did not even notice it was there in the center. The grand chapel of Leo the hero where all royals were married under the image of the founder Leo and his marriage. 
Fire and brimstone still covered it as it rocketed into the stained glass window of Leo the hero.  Glass showered down as the nobles saw fire dancing with a maelstrom. They shrieked, stepping back from this nightmare. The men struggled to pull their ladies back as unlucky once at the front were killed by the burning glass raindrops. The groom merely stared up at this nightmare sense and courage left him. His eyes and hair whitened his heart stopping as he fell back onto the floor. 
The royal knights could charge an ogre with a spoon normally without question, but something like what crashed down sent shivers down their spine, and still, they grabbed their weapons. Their instincts were proven right as the intruder tossed them aside with a  wave of clawed hands. The choice was the better part of valor laying back groaning in pain or being cut to ribbons by the creature of fire and death.
However, the princess grinned gleefully for her insight was true. For a brief moment, she had lost faith that her angel would not come. But he had appeared in dramatic fashion.
Drak could not care about the rage blinding him to anyone else but his quarry. First, he would have to take him and destroy the other nobles. His blazing eyes scanned around the area looking for his quarry. He roared, shaking the chapel and the very core of the building. It was due to the strength of the court that mages paid saving nobles at the cost of their lives. 
The blazing orbs that would be called eyes stared at nobles and their guests. No man or those in that room save the king stood a chance of delaying him let alone stopping him. Building, now then this form was too bulky for the roof. So with a flush of crimson red energy, his large wings arched upward pushing him onto the ground. He snarled at the knights, his body between the princess and the rest of the chapel. Now all bets were off.
The terrified noble drew their ornate show blade quivering as they started to charge. The dragon simply broke the blades with a steaming breath tossing them and their wielders across the room. The remaining spellcasters and mages among them attempted to use their mystic arts, only to have their head slammed against the ground by a savage force unseen.  Drak’s dragon face gave a serpent smile as he flexed his magic. No self-respecting dragon would care to waste true power about worms.
 The dragon stood atop the altar with pride as the cowardly priest stayed down watching the scene. The great dragon Drak Ladon merely glanced at him as he looked at the princess.
“I am your new lord; this kingdom is mine," he said
The princess smiled tilting her head upwards, staring into Drak's own eyes which caused his heart to leap. She was wearing a white wedding dress and she was stunning; he would have her wear this always. She was beautiful as her golden blonde hair shone in the sunlight, and her hourglass figure was the envy of all who saw her. Her fair pale delicate skin was spotless and seemed too soft yet livid. However that is not the most notable trait about her, it is her eyes and intelligence.
 Her iris was blinding rubies a strange light from her pale soft features. It was always stunning  However, it was her magic that made her truly useful.
  Drak himself knew this far too well, he had taught her some of his own spells and other magical knowledge. It was a bit scary to Drak as she took the arcane like a fish to water. He even taught a simple trick he was fond of using when dealing with his own minions. Stare at them without blinking when you think they are doing something wrong.This action gave her the nickname the Red Star among nobles for her action to stare down those she does not like. It was the reason she was the favored princess. 
 She smiled softly whispering," Of course my love". She kept firm eye contact looking at him like a lover raising her hands upwards to the dragon. Then magic symbols formed around the altar under the dragon. It began, and the princess's spell grew into a dazzling magical circle spinning around the dragon. Then smoke almost imminently popped over the area, and the crackling of foreign energy pulsed throughout the cloud. 
This shocked the dark lord as he struggled in the vapor. It did not hurt, but it held him. His strength and the powerful limbs of a dragon paled in the face of such magic. The fumes filled his nose and mouth. It smelled of rosemary, her favorite flower. He didn't even have time to fully process what was happening, wildly whipping his tail. 
He growled in panic, a primal fear sparking from his body. He spat fire trying to burn the vapor, which only made more of it. This cloud of fire grew; he raged at this without any choice. Then with all other options removed, he fired his other breath his secret weapon. the power of every storm.  The very rage in the heavens. 
A bright beam from his mouth like the wrath of the storms.  It struck the smoke but it curled through billowing smoke. It just kept twisting slowly wrecking the bolts of lighting from his mouth until he could breathe no more.At this failure, his body felt weak his limb slumping back into the magical binds he heard. the princess. Her song-like voice rang through the madness and her words shook Drak down to his very core. This kingdom will be burned. Everyone will curse the day the princess did this. His furious thoughts raged but the princess's next words stopped him
"All hail your new king, the dragon Drak Landon. Your lord and master."
It was a blow like a stab from his goblins or own mother. How the hell did this happen?  How did she know his true name? What did she hit him with? The magic slowly these racing thought to an ice still. The glow from the ground he knew that glow.It was a fucking magic circle. 

"Damn it all" he bellowed, rocking the chapel as the remaining windows shattered onto the ground. Only his lips and mouth seemed unaffected. So with all the strength he mustered, he blasted all his dragon-nic breath both fire and lighting until he was left gasping. A storm of fire and lighting blazed around the area but it was enclosed within the magic process. In fact, it only seemed to speed up the process.
His eyes scanned the area looking for some escape only to find none.His attack swirled around but he could still see her. He could only stare at the princess in fear. 
She was happy, no, it was beyond that as everything was going to plan. She raised her hand as the breath weapon simply was sucked towards Drak. Arcane sparks dancing around the room. The nobles backed away in terror. Some drew their ceremonial weapons, little short swords, and even tinier daggers. the noble women who were merely bed warmers screamed in terror. Those who knew magic and still dared attempted to stop the ritual. However, their attempts were met with failure the raw strength of the magic ripped the fool's palms. Their screams became a blood choir for this eldritch matrimony. 
That did not concern Drak as the magic consuming him was far more pressing. His vision blurred and his mind fluttered he started to lose couscous.
Drak's mind slowly faded as a strange mix of pride and wrath slowly faded away. His prey and pupil had managed to turn the table on him. The dregs of his strength slowly but surely faded away. His eyes fluttered as the shaking finally stopped.  He fought it, of course, but that didn't matter; he was losing and losing fast. His final thought before fading was simply, How did I fuck this up so badly? 
As the spell began, the king sat watching the madness with a blank expression.It was a turn of events at least better than a boring marriage ceremony to some boring bastard he could really remember the name of.  That was his daughter. Honestly, at least it was not an infernal king or something truly ridiculous. No, it was just a fucking dragon. Sighing he merely rubbed his templates. Why was it, not some elf or some wandering hero? At least then it would be understandable to him. He clicked his teeth bitterly as he decided he had enough to let do what she was doing. It could only cement her strength and even though this was not the most insane thing his family, hell, and his children have done. Her brother went off and slept with a whole kingdom. He shuddered at the memory.  Pride swelled in his chest as saw her magical prowess. Chanting and binding such a creature was impressive and no matter what happened next he would at least have a good weapon against his enemies.He would speak to his demon mistress about this later.
As the spell neared its cruel crux of power, some nobles moved back to the windows, transfixed at the speculation of this spell. The nobles were stuck in place as they had seen this event before. The fact was that was how the king was married to the queen, they knew how this ended. It was too late to run or stop it. 
The princess cackled as the spell finally started to end, leaving the rest of the crowd in a puff of smoke, with a foreign object in the center of it. It was a statue of a strange marble enveloping the dragon. It slowly altered the great beast into a humanoid shape as it seemed to hold him forming a strange suit around him. His eyes open a blank mindless stare struggling to focus.  Slowly laboured breaths came from the humanoid.But the appearance was not where the magic worked it was the mind. 

_________

"Where am I? What did that bitch do to me?” the dragon Drak Ladon roared into the void black void in front of him. His eyes could only see a pitch-black smoke that stretched forward into the darkness. There was no sky with no light, and the ground was a mirror to the sky. It was almost like he was walking on a lake of dark water. 
"We have not gone anywhere" the void answered with a familiar voice from above. 
"Who is that? Who is there ?" The dragon raged at the answer. 
"We are taking you are screaming, after all, it is too late anyways " was the calm almost accepting answer. 
"WHO ARE YOU ?" The great dragon Drak Ladon screamed at his prison, and the endless pick black shifted as a stormcloud. A slim almost alien figure stood in the center, ringed in a halo.
"It says a lot about us that you did not realize that you were talking to yourself," the angel spoke in Drak’s voice. 
The black wings, the spiked halo, the red eyes, and the form. A muscular man with black hair and sparking marks of power embedded into his arms, clad only in a breastplate with a skull pressed into its center. It was a mirror of Father down to the detail on his face. Soft gray eyes stared down at Drak’s as he descended to him.
"What the hell is going on?" Drak asked, mystified. 
"The spell was made to bind gods and things with high magical power, unable to die or be bound by any other magic. High-class magic was spoken with myth. The unobtainium binds the greatest connection one can ever gain, it was too late to stop but that was not it. There is another high-class spell, the true ring. This mix is after all the true vows and can never be shattered." As the angel claimed to be himself cried. Those tears floated and became black orbs that sparked in this void. 
"That is impossible no it can't be true no human could cast such magic. No-”
“She had a good teacher: us.”
“So should I be proud or annoyed? She has enslaved me you idiot “ 
“We are the same person, I am just your godlier aspects, furthermore we are not completely enslaved. It is a bit different.” The angel laughed.
“What ?” Drak stared with a cold rage.
“We are married to her.” The angel simply said. “Till either she or we die”
-------
The princess triumphantly walked down the aisle, basking in the terror of everyone else. Her determined footstep clicked past the fool who dared to get in the way of her lover. Her gleeful smile beamed as her white wedding dress was lined with red. She did not bother with the veil or anything to hide her face; the world should see her face as she married. The final crowning achievement in her almost two-decade-long plan.  Her plan started shortly after that angel saved her from hell. Her mind thought back to that fateful day as she walked towards the final goal. 
  She was the last child and neither she nor her sisters would get anything more than a mere footnote in history. Their destined purpose was to be used to forge alliances. She fumed under this system, her rage covered by her facade of a dutiful daughter. At age 13 she met her first fiancé and swore to do anything to get out of it.  That man was a noble Pertion and she had to visit that man. Every moment of it she truly hated. 
He was nearly forty, a balding fat bastard with considerable orcs forces and control over major giant camps. He was so disgusting that it was impossible to identify him from his filthy sweaty armored and ill-groomed Orcish guards. The large crest on his ring and straining clothes offended her the most. Her father carried her to his manor to introduce her to him. She felt small and that man's eyes were transfixed on her. He waved away his guards only to be led by her father through his manor. 
It was a beautiful place with portraits and statues of nobles and ancestors, the wild hunts he went on with panties all laced and mounted on his walls. The doors were all locked and a muffled sound could be heard from them. But she hated them. Her father at least gave her a basic understanding of the pertion family line. The beauty in this place was formed from the most devepravted events. She crushed her growing disgust with a friendly and warm smile doing her damnedest not to look at this place disgusting place. 
 She sat down, her developing chest restricted by the garment, a pale yellow dress, but she had grown accustomed to it. After another thirty minutes, she stood, her boredom reaching a fever pitch, along with her bowels. She wandered about the seemingly vacant hallways as she moved to what she thought was the privy restroom it said so on the door. 
When she opened the door she saw no toilet, nor sinks nor bastions, she saw something that would stick with her forever. It was a mulling, bound woman of different ages and races. Some were blinded, some gagged and some had both. They looked more like meat on a rack than people. The binding had held them down onto the pile slicked with shit and other fluids she did not recognize. This horror shook her, the proper manners of a princess lost as she sprinted out. Her dainty legs shook as she fled slamming into her father's leg. Worst the bastard was close by. 
 His ever-flying spit and the sick smells had nearly had her driven her mad. She looked away from the mad in the presence of her father as he spat some trade agreement and offered to let her stay with him. She looked up at her father pleading and holding his hand.  She tugged on his hand and tried to hide from him. Unfortunately, she was not enough; it seemed. Her father had to check on the forces and see her brother the second-born great soldier some distance away.
 But it was the moment her father left the manor, his hands shot out grabbing her and he attempted to defile her. It was simple in his twisted mind, the quicker he broke her the faster he could secure the perton family power. Those fat fingers rubbed between her legs as he shoved his tongue down her throat. She was powerless and weak, and she had enough.
 She had a spark of magic a gift that was well guarded in her family.  It was not uncommon to have the magic spark in her hand sparked with arcane energy as she bit his tongue. He tried to pull back only to be shot with an arcane bolt, ripping his tongue; she tasted blood. The fat man launched back into the wall and slid down the ground motionless with blood slowly pooling onto the carpeted floor.
Her cries however attracted attention as the orc's guards began to try the locks. Her hands flew up shooting a barrier on the door and closing the doors. This, however, is temporary as she wept. She wept for her innocence, her hopes, and her freedom, and she started to rage. 
How dare they do this? How dare she be dragged to this pig, this filth?
Her body defied by her body to this for who was this  dung fucker? For her father who wield and fucked every female male or half-sentient creature with a pulse. No. No, hell is her life like this, not if she had anything to say about it.  Her thoughts raced as she tried to reason through this situation.
Her petite legs started to kick down the man, her shoe barely making a dent in his massive blubber. How dare this shit dare to attempt this? It did not even deserve to lick her boots, its very touch made her feel sick.
Damn this man damn that bastard. I will have their heads, slaughter them, fail them. I refuse to be there. Let the realm burn, she would light the torch herself.  Her dark and panicked thoughts rushed to her mind as her concentration slowed only to hear the doors starting to open.
Her mind focused on survival. She retracted her foot. This was not good. They had seen their lord on the ground and her disheveled and bloody form. Her mind sprinted as she looked out the window. She had to leave; she needed a way out. Her magic was not that strong, and a group of trained orcs would easily defeat her. She only had one way, her imaginary friend, the strange not-angel Gwinth. She was hesitant to trust him but she was not sure what he was, and that was dangerous. She could have to sell her soul or sign a deal but what choice did she have?
She flung off her shoes and ran over to the windows. She found, however, that she was too small to even reach the windows, however, the furniture would assist her attempt. She spat as she climbed up a dresser knocking off small statues and shoddy portraits of women. She tried the knobs only to find them bolted. She then tugged at them with the rage of a desperate prisoner. They were nothing more than a tomb. But it was not enough she had no major strength of a male and she was never given the training to build her muscles. 
She growled and grabbed the heavy bust of the bastard and swung down at the window. Her attempt was more fruitful however as the glass shattered. The showering shards had however cut her hands as they rained down. But she could not stop. She had to get out, she had to escape.
With all the energy she could muster she fired out a single spell. It was a small missile of blinding light that then went up into the air and then exploded with one word.
The doors behind her started to click as the guards began to work the knobs. No doubt they would burst in with weapons in hand. Desperately glancing at the door as the orcs slowly started to open it. The orcs entered, fuming,  they lunged to grab her. She tossed herself out of the window, cut and wounded as she cried out for her angel, real or not. 
“Gywnith!”
The sky echoed as it grew dark as fire shot at the manor. Brimstone burned in the air as the blast sounded shattering the glass and pushing the orcs away. The princess screamed in agony as she saw the glass rain down on her, only to be saved by her angel. Her angel with leathery wings, and talons instead of soft feathers.
She rubbed her eyes clearly a hallucination due to panic as he returned to normal. His halo shone, his feathery wings were outstanding as his golden armour. His scowl was firmly edging into his face as fire rained down onto the building. However, the orc's reaction was the most interesting thing that occurred. Instead of bowing and becoming meek as orcs acted around the divine and gods, they snarled, growled, and raged at him.
That confused the princess. Orcs were known for following the divine. If her ally was an angel, then this should happen. Could it be their rage? The bitterness of losing a lord? No, it would not be so animalistic, so primal. They only acted this way around something that would hunt them. That list was long but what had intelligence? What could have driven Orc to such a thing? 
These thoughts dominated her mind as her hero Gwinth flicked the attacking orcs. Her eyes opened in realization as she stared at what once was her attackers, reduced to merely boiling pools of flesh and blood. Still,‌ more orcs rushed forward, they too died reduced to mere oozing flesh.
“There are some captives in the privy. Please save them. For me please?” She pleased, hugging the angel. 
Her hand rubbed against his neck and stopped. His back was lizard skin, smooth and firm as a bit stuck under her nail. She dared not give this away, for anything that would take this form and be strong enough to kill such a horde would easily kill her.
Her fear turned to confusion as he held her close and walked forward. Charred flesh and black bone were his calling card as he rent the whole manor asunder in brutal flame. He freed those poor girls and then slaughtered all the orcs surrounding the manor. The princess watched as her angel, lying to them all, saved them. It was there over the charred dead, that she fell in love with her angel. He would be hers no matter the cost or what he really was. She knew something she would ensure he would be hers once she knew what he was. 
It had taken time to release them all, melting through bindings and other restraints. Her confusion grew as her angel moved to gather others rather than destroy the entire orc forces around the manor. 
  Instead, unlike an angel he merely gathered them back and led them through the ocean of burning flesh and steaming blood, to salvation. She stayed silent and merely watched as she and the other girls were led back to her father's camp. 
She could see his displeasure at her avail and the other girls. Suspicion fell on her naturally but after confirming her story the investigation would begin. However, after a quick confirmation from his scout and the testimonials of the other girls, what remained from that house was swiftly cleared up under the executioner's blade. Now that left the matter of the girls. 
This was a mess situation that would affect the look of the kingdom. That and the major loss of the noble family was not a simple lost. Most of the women were
The king nearly killed them too, and the children of those women, but due to some divine providence, he didn’t kill them. But he would not help them either. Most would have abandoned them and their ill-fortune spawn, but not her. She made them servants to her manor bartering away many of her powers to ensure they would be left unharmed. But that was all secondary, to her. What was her “angel?” And why did it save her? She would know and she would be no tool. 




—------------------------------------------------------------

She stood as her husband shook confused and flustered. He slowly shuffled forward. Her father didn’t bother to lead her down the aisle, and the rest of her family had barely made it in time for her original marriage. That weakling still simmering in the corner as his servants placed themselves before their lord. Smiling, she watched her priest, a half-elf who was indebted to her quivering, prompted her to begin her vows.
“Do you take this man-”
“Man ?” the king interrupted in a droll voice.
“Man enough, father,” She retorted.” Hurry it up, Lemtro.”
“Yes of course, do you take him as your husband ‘til death do you part?” he sputtered looking at the princess' crimson glare. 
His ears drooped as he thought of what would happen if he failed this. He had seen what happened to those who failed her. The brutal maining was legendary, he would never forget it. She had removed the skin of the man and then bathed him in heated salts. Then she watched as he screamed in agony only to let him die after four brutal hours. That poor fool got off easy. 
“I-” her father the king began.
“You sold that right to contradict this when I ensured the deal with high elves and the dwarves of the Rugaltion mountain” She responded with a calm monotone. 
She swayed nervously glancing at Drak then she said, “I do” 
Her husband, an unconscious Drak Ladon gurgled a bit as he stood. The princess winced, as she had thought the spell would have left him a bit more aware and not in this state. Most of the kinks of the spell were not worked through, most test subjects simply exploded. Still, he stood up and his body had not started to change any ill colors, nor did he smell of anything rotting. Drak lifted his head despite his state. His voice was still a smooth beautiful thing, like a beautiful cry from a bird of prey.
“I do. I love you,” he said, looking up, as his eyelids fluttered. “For now and forever”
“Oh.” Her cheeks flushed as she looked down at the ground. Such passion shook her and made her feel something interesting and new. This was a lover's joy  she thought. Hopefully, she could finish this by the end of the day. She ensured that once the vows were made, They would be consummated quickly. 
“Finishing off leromates” She spoke moving closer to her new “Husband.”  She rushed Leromates as he Then she held his hand, the kindest hand she had ever felt. They moved as her soft finger curled around his strength. Let it off despite the grumbles of her father who sat annoyed on the throne past the nobles on the ground. Some guards attempted to stop them, but those fools were put to sleep with a wave of her wrist. 
Moving quickly, she had moments before Drak's mind returned and the death of everyone if her plan was not ready. She dragged her husband to her bridal suite with all the force she could muster. Dashing past the broken and frightened noble with a womanly smile, her prey tumbling behind her. . Her servants moved gracefully as they were trained for years at this moment. Failure was not an option. The room was quickly prepared with rose petals and linen robes. The bed head had long bars for either form of a dragon and would produce healing magic when touched. This was the insurance to handle Drak’s lust and power. 
Her mind flashed to all the attempts to gather power. All the petty nobles who squabbled and were mere ticks on the kingdom. The unenlightened masses were caked in dirt and were nothing more than a waste. Still, she gathered these useless things and bound them to her. For the poor, she carried security and aid, to the noble a voice to hear their pointless complaints. But when the honeyed words could not suffice she brought death to all those who dared to get in her way. Of course she had her new servants do the act and they did it without complaints.  
She pushed through the door her servant simply prepping for the coming event.Her eyes narrowed as she tossed her husband's body onto the bed along with her soft body. 
She abandoned the dress and her crown, tossing them down onto the floor and sidling next to her love. Knowing full well what a dragon’s wrath could be like, she had found a way to pacify him without gold. Sungling closer to her husband, she grabbed for her trump card biting into the drug.   
Amantes Nodums was a rare drug that was used to entrap another and was mainly used by the shadow elves as a way of enslaving their male counterparts. It took time to locate a merchant and even longer to get her servant to find the drug. Thankfully from the group she had rescued from pertion, one was a shadow elf who was sold off. 
Activating her magic, she activated the drug and then sealed it with a kiss. She tasted the sweet sensation of Drak’s lips, and felt the soft caress of his tongue. This was the only place she truly belonged with him. 
Drak’s eyes fluttered. Throughout the kiss,  his body twitched. It was fitting for her kiss to activate her husband although she was not sure how to deal with the dragon’s need to horde. Hopefully, it would be something like gold or wealth, but whatever it was she would ensure he would gain it.These thoughts ticked into her mind as Drak got closer.
His hand shook, then shot forward, grabbing her neck.
“How dare you do this to me?” Drak raged holding her up off the bed. “I should rip your neck out. Marriage? How did you-” 
His rant died in his mouth as he stared at the princess. She was gorgeous, and so soft her pale skin. It felt so sweet to him. Even more than normal, he wanted to take her, make her his, and then keep going until he couldn’t move anymore. He tossed her back onto the bed, breathing scantly and struggling to restrain the lust he felt.
“What did you do to me?” he barked through gritted teeth, and burning cheeks. It was near impossible to hide the erection within his pants bracing on the wall with his tail.
The princess smirked, glancing at her husband with crimson eyes. Her blonde hair spread messily across the mattress. Slowly turning her body, she mimicked the skills of her servant's posture, showing off her crotch and placing a hand between her legs. With rising lust, she spoke:
“I knew you were no angel ever since that day you rescued me. I thought you were a demon at first, the scales and holier than thou attitude, typical of a low-level demon. But after a bit of research and that scale chip I found under my nail, I learned your secret. However,  despite the plotting you stood by me. When I was alone or scared you were there, you tried to be some dark monster, but your heart was much kinder than my own family. I love you and I will always love you.”
She then gently and slowly revealed her unclaimed purity with a shift of her panties. Her voice was a sultry tune that called to him and inflamed his lust. He waged a brutal war with his mind between conquest and desire. Only one fact held him back from ravaging her, his wounded pride.
“Why this? Why like this?” he asked desperately, trying to avoid her. Despite her transgression, she was still his. He would have to correct her later but this would be too much. He would break her.
"I knew time was limited. A political marriage would be on the horizon and I refused it. If I must marry, I will marry the one I love. And I will also ensure you rule so, please…I am yours,” she whispered.
Those words shattered any remnants of self-control Drak had. Lust and twisted emotion leaped out as he pressed her down onto the bed with a kiss. These vigorous kisses were paired with his hand gently squeezing her left breast. The white lace panties were shredded with a mere flick of his wrist and her body was lifted upward.
Without any reason, he penetrated her with a brutal thrust and began the long night. His hand danced over her breasts as he kept kissing her. The bed rocked and creaked as he kept going, as he let his lust go wild. He was not alone as the princess's glee grew with every thrust and every next position. Her once finely done hair fluttered loose as the intense lovemaking rocked her very soul.
After three hours of this brutal sex, Drak then came for the final time, forcing his sperm directly into her womb. For a moment they separated, panicking heavily. Then Drak's erection rose once more and they began again. 
 It took nine hours for Drak’s energy to finally be expended, and the princess was drowning in sperm as she twitched barely about to think.