"!!!" Valkar's hands froze mid-air, his fingers still inches from Zura's skin. The sudden intrusion shattered the tension that had been building between them, replacing it with a jolt of surprise and a dash of guilt.
His twin sister, Thraxa, stood in the doorway, her eyes flashing with a mix of amusement and challenge.
"Thraxa," Valkar managed to rasp, his voice barely recognizable to his own ears. It was rough, strained, as if the awakening had not just ignited his mana but also his emotions. "Early."
Thraxa's lips curled into a smirk, her gaze flicking from Valkar to Zura and back again.
"Early? Brother, I'm right on time." She stepped into the hut, her movements fluid and confident, a mirror of Zura's grace. "I heard the Chieftain's roar. I knew you'd be here."
"And why is that, my daughter?" Zura, seemingly unfazed by the interruption, turned to face Thraxa fully, her expression unreadable.
"Because Valkar is predictable. And because he's always been yours first." Thraxa's voice was a low purr, a sound that vibrated with an energy that made the air in the small hut crackle. She stopped beside Valkar, her shoulder brushing against his. "I'm not here to interrupt. I'm here because I wanted to see it with my own eyes."
"See it?" Valkar's voice came out as a low growl, half warning, half plea. The mana inside him surged at Thraxa's nearness, recognizing blood, recognizing twin, recognizing rival. His skin burned hotter where her shoulder grazed his, the contact sparking like flint on steel.
"Let her watch, cub..." Zura's laugh rumbled deep in her chest, rich and dark as cavern smoke. "...Or are you ashamed to take what is yours in front of kin?"
Valkar's tusks ground together. Ashamed? Never. But the thought of Thraxa's amber eyes on him while he claimed their mother—while he spilled the wildfire of his awakening into her—sent a violent twist of hunger through his gut.
"Valkar not ashamed," he grunted, his voice rough as stone grinding against stone. He turned his focus back to Zura, his hands finally making contact with her skin, fingers digging into the solid muscle of her hips.
"!!!" The touch sent a jolt through him, a release of some of the pent-up mana, but it only stoked the fire higher.
"Valkar will take. Thraxa can watch. See true strength."
"Pfftt..." Thraxa snorted, a small puff of derisive air, but her eyes remained fixed, hungry and intense. She didn't move closer, but she didn't leave either. "Big words, brother. Let's see if your body matches your mouth."
Zura's hand slid up to grip the back of Valkar's neck again, her fingers firm, possessive.
"Enough talk," she growled, her voice low and commanding. "Show me, cub. Prove you're no longer a youngling. Give me that fire inside you."
She stepped into Valkar fully, pressing the heavy weight of her breasts against his chest, letting him feel the furnace heat of her skin. One rough hand slid to the back of his neck, claws pricking lightly, and she dragged his mouth down to hers.
There was no softness in the kiss.
Tusks scraped, tongues battled, and when Zura bit his lower lip hard enough to draw blood, the first wild surge of mana tore out of him like a dam breaking. Valkar snarled into her mouth, hips jerking forward on instinct, grinding the rigid length trapped beneath his loincloth against the solid plane of her belly.
Thraxa's breath hitched—just once—before she folded her arms, her claws digging into her own biceps. Her smirk faltered for the barest instant. Seeing it, feeling it, was different from imagining it. Her brother's raw, untamed power wasn't just a boast. It was a storm being unleashed.
"Clothes. Off. Now." Zura broke the kiss only to growl against his tusks.
Valkar's hands shook—not from fear, never from fear—but from the storm roaring under his skin. He ripped at the knots of his own ceremonial wraps, leather tearing under impatient claws. The scraps fell away, and his cock sprang free, thick and dark, veins glowing faintly with the mana that still needed grounding.
Valkar may be smaller in frame compared to his siblings, but in this area, he was far from being a disappointment.
Zura watched, her own breathing heavier now. She reached down, not to touch him, but to spread herself, her fingers sliding through the slick heat of her own readiness.
"Take what you came for, son," she panted. "Before the fire burns you to cinders."
He didn't need to be told twice. And orcs, in general, rarely do any kind of foreplay. Yes, pleasure does matter to them, but not in the same way as humans. For them, it's about the survival of their race in this dark, forsaken land.
Valkar's hands returned to her waist, lifting her as if she weighed nothing. Zura grunted, wrapping her powerful legs around his torso, hooking her ankles at the small of his back. She reached down with one hand, gripped him, and guided the weeping head of his cock to her entrance.
"Mother…" he growled, voice thick, shaking, barely recognizable.
"Now," she snarled back. "Show Mother her cub is a warrior."
He drove into her.
PAT!
The force of the first thrust made the hut's stone floor tremble, dust shaking loose from the ceiling beams. Zura's head snapped back with a hiss, her tusks bared, fingers clawing at Valkar's back hard enough to draw blood. Her legs locked tighter around his waist, trapping him, pulling him deeper.
"Ghhhnk—!" A guttural moan tore from her throat, deep, primal, approving.
"Yes," Zura growled, voice vibrating against his chest. "That's it. Welcome back, son."
Behind them, Thraxa let out a low breath she'd been holding. The hunger in her amber eyes sharpened to a razor's edge. The smirk was gone now, replaced by something far more intense—a mix of envy, pride, and a raw, possessive lust that was all her own.
She stepped closer. Just a few paces. No words this time.
Her gaze stayed locked on the point where Valkar was buried inside their mother.
"Stronger than I thought," she murmured under her breath, voice husky. "No wonder you ran from the halls."
"..." Valkar didn't answer. Couldn't answer. His world had narrowed to heat, pressure, scent.
"Valkar," Zura squeezed his hips with her knees.
"Move," she barked. "Or you'll shame yourself."
He obeyed instantly. Orc instincts demanded action, not hesitation. He pulled his hips back and slammed into her again, harder, faster, his breath coming out in rough, animalistic snarls. Each thrust was a blow, a claim, a release of the raging energy inside him. He could feel the mana leaving him in waves, flowing from him into Zura, grounding itself in her experienced body.
The fiery, chaotic energy was being tamed, tempered, and refined by her. It was a relief, a release, a pleasure so intense it bordered on agony.
'Mother is best,' Valkar's mind roared with primal pride.
Thraxa watched it all.
Her brother's powerful body, the way the muscles in his back and buttocks bunched and flexed with each brutal thrust. The sounds—the wet slap of skin on skin, their mingled grunts and snarls, the creak of her mother's body absorbing the force.
It was a brutal, beautiful symphony of strength and lust.
And she felt… left out.
Her body reacted, heat pooling in her own belly, a familiar ache starting to build between her legs. The air in the hut was thick with the musk of sex and mana, a heady cocktail that made her own skin prickle.
She wanted in.
Not just to watch. To participate.
But how?
This was their moment. His first claim. Her mother's right to his uncontrolled power.
'NO! He is MY brother! My MATE!'
She couldn't just stand here. Her pride, her own burgeoning power, wouldn't allow it.
"Hmph!" Thraxa moved with purpose. She didn't strip down, not yet. Instead, she stepped right up behind Valkar, her body a hairsbreadth from his sweat-slicked back. The heat radiating off him was intense, a tangible force that made the small hairs on her arms stand up.
Valkar's rhythm faltered for a fraction of a second. He felt her presence, smelled her scent—so similar to Zura's, yet younger, sharper, wilder.
"Thraxa—" he grunted, trying to turn his head.
"No," she commanded, her voice a low growl next to his ear. "Don't stop. Not for me."
She pressed herself against him, her leather-clad breasts flattening against the powerful muscles of his back.
"Just… don't forget I'm here."
Her hands came up to rest on his shoulders, her claws digging in just enough to be a warning, a brand. She began to match his rhythm, her body swaying with his, a silent partner to the violent dance he and their mother were locked in.
Zura watched them over Valkar's shoulder, her amber eyes burning with a fierce, triumphant light. She saw Thraxa's hands on her son, saw the possessive gleam in her daughter's eyes, and a deep, rumbling laugh vibrated through her chest.
She loved her children, and there was no better joy to a mother orc than to see her cubs desiring each other.
Valkar was the perfect mate for them both. She was the one who forged him, and she would be the one to guide him.
However, by orc tradition, he must claim them through honorable combat. It was a sacred ritual, a test of strength and will.
For now, Thraxa could only watch and touch.
But the ache inside her was growing. Watching was no longer enough.
Her hands slid from Valkar's shoulders, down the slick planes of his back, her nails leaving faint red trails in their wake. She felt him shudder under her touch and heard his breath hitch.
She kept going lower, her palms flat against his skin, until they reached the powerful muscles of his ass. She squeezed hard, her fingers digging into the firm flesh.
"!!!" Valkar's thrusts became erratic, more forceful. The combined sensation of Zura's heat around him and Thraxa's hands on him, claiming him, marking him, was almost too much. The red light at his core pulsed erratically, flaring with each possessive touch from his twin.
"Yes," Zura moaned, her head lolling back. "That's it. More."
Thraxa's hands moved again, one slipping around Valkar's hip, her fingers brushing against the base of his cock where it disappeared into Zura's body. The contact was electric. The jolt of shared energy made all three of them gasp.
"Mother…" Valkar growled, the sound raw, broken.
"Daughter…" Zura panted, her eyes locked on Thraxa's. "Take what you want."
Permission granted.
Thraxa didn't hesitate.
With a fluid motion, she dropped to her knees behind Valkar. The stone floor was cold and hard, but she didn't feel it. Her entire being was focused on the scene before her. The sight of her brother's powerful body moving, the sheer, brutal strength of each thrust into their mother. The musky scent of their coupling filled her senses, making her head spin.
She leaned forward, her breath ghosting over the sensitive skin of Valkar's perineum.
Valkar froze.
His entire body went rigid, the rhythm of his thrusts stopping completely. A strangled noise escaped his throat, a sound of pure, unadulterated shock and pleasure.
"Thraxa… what—"
She answered him not with words, but with action.
Her tongue, hot and wet, delved into the space behind his sac, tracing a path up to the tight pucker of his ass.
"GHHHHN—!" The sound was a guttural roar, torn from Valkar's soul. His entire body convulsed, hips jerking forward violently, burying himself to the hilt inside his mother.
Zura cried out, her back arching off the stone slab she'd been pressed against. The sudden, brutal thrust, coupled with the violent surge of mana that pulsed from Valkar's core into her, sent her over the edge.
"YES!" she screamed, her nails raking down Valkar's back, drawing deep furrows that welled with blood. "GIVE IT TO ME, NOW!"
The dam broke.
"UGH!" Valkar's control shattered.
The red light in his chest exploded outwards, a wave of raw, untamed mana that washed over both females. He roared, a sound of primal release, and slammed into Zura one last time, his cock pulsing, pumping her full of his seed and the last of the chaotic energy.
Zura's own climax hit her like a physical blow. Her body bucked, her legs tightening around Valkar's waist like a vise, her inner walls clamping down on him, milking him for every last drop. A soft emerald light enveloped her, a visible manifestation of her power absorbing and refining his wild energy.
For a long, breathless moment, the three of them were locked together, a tangle of limbs, sweat, and spent passion. The only sounds were their ragged breaths and the faint hum of residual magic in the air.
"That was good, cub." Zura's voice was a husky whisper, her body still trembling with aftershocks. She ran a gentle hand through Valkar's damp hair, her touch surprisingly soft.
"Can you keep up for the whole night?"
"Valkar can... Valkar is a warrior!"