Chapter 276: Quickie

A wave of agreement moved through much of the council.

Even some of the more hostile voices found the suggestion acceptable: either the human would break, and the problem would solve itself, or he would survive, and the packs would have measured him properly under open eyes.

Grathak turned his full attention back to Kane.

The emperor’s expression was impossible to read beyond a thin, unhinged interest.

"You heard them, barbarian. The council wants trials. Survive, and we will discuss coalitions and devils and the shape of the sky. Fail, and the conversation ends permanently. What is your answer?"

Kane met the red stare without looking away.

The new Controlled Berserker Output sat quiet and ready under his skin.

Seventy days was not long. Standing here arguing would burn time none of them could spare.

He nodded once, sharp and final.

"I’m ready."

Grathak’s grin returned, wide and pleased.

"Go on. Have a feast. Then my sister will guide you for the first trial."

Grathak’s voice still echoed in Kane’s ears as Marisa led him out of the main council hall and into a side chamber set for food and rest.

The room was warmer, lit by low braziers.

Long tables held roasted meats, dense bread, and dark wine.

Beast women moved between the tables with practiced efficiency, some young, some older, all of them carrying the quiet awareness of people who served in the emperor’s halls.

Kane took a seat.

Marisa remained standing beside him, amber eyes watching the room more than the food.

"What’s the first trial?" he asked.

Marisa kept her voice low.

"You must defeat five selected beast warriors in sequence. They are strong, but not monsters. Each one represents a different style: speed, power, technique, endurance, and dirty tricks. You are not allowed to kill them. Submission or clean incapacitation only. There will be a large incense coil burning."

"That’s dirty."

"When it runs out, the trial ends whether you are finished or not. And there is a hidden measure: the longer you stay controlled, the more the watching war-chiefs will respect you. If you lose control and start breaking them permanently, the packs will turn even if you win on paper."

Kane tore a piece of meat and ate.

"That sounds easy."

Marisa shook her head once.

"It is not. You will want to finish them quickly and lethally. You will not be allowed to. You have to keep them in check without destroying them. Grathak injured you yesterday for this purpose, so you would enter the first measure already carrying damage. How much have you healed?"

Kane rolled one shoulder, feeling the ache.

"Good enough. Up for another session?"

Marisa’s expression didn’t change.

"Not me. You have to show your dominance here, in front of the ones who serve and the ones who watch.

Pick a maid. Anyone. Take her. Make it clear you are not a passive human waiting for permission."

Kane blinked.

"You’re joking. That’s not how my power works."

"It does not matter how your power works. It matters what the packs see. You walked into the underground, drew the emperor’s blood, and stood back up. Now you are sitting quietly at a table. That contrast will be noticed. Correct it."

Kane laughed under his breath, short and rough, then turned his head and looked over the serving women.

Most of them kept their eyes down.

A few glanced at him with open curiosity.

One stood near the far wall holding a clay jug of wine, an older beast woman, heavy-breasted, wide-hipped, with dark fur along her arms and the calm posture of someone who had seen many guests come and go.

Her wrap was simple and already strained across her full chest. She met Kane’s gaze for a moment and did not look away.

He stood, left the table, and walked toward her. Marisa remained where she was, watching without expression.

Kane stopped in front of the older maid and spoke quietly enough that only she could hear.

"You ready?"

She looked at him, at the axe on his back, at the fading bruises still visible at the collar of his shirt.

Then she nodded once, slow and clear.

Kane took the jug from her hands and set it aside.

He turned her around with firm hands, guided her toward the nearest empty side table, and bent her forward over it.

The maid braced herself without being told.

Kane dragged the lower part of her wrap up over her hips, exposing the full, soft curves of her ass and the already-slick folds between her thighs.

She was wet. The scent of her interest rose immediately.

He freed himself, lined up, and pushed into her in one steady thrust.

The maid’s breath left her in a low, controlled sound.

Her heavy breasts, still covered by the upper wrap, pressed against the table and swayed with the first impact.

Kane set a deep, unhurried rhythm, hands locked on her wide hips, pulling her back to meet every stroke.

The wet sound of it carried farther than the low conversation in the room. Several of the other serving women glanced over.

A few of the beast warriors who had followed from the council hall watched openly.

Kane leaned forward slightly, still thrusting, and spoke near the maid’s ear.

"Name."

"Retha," she answered, voice already thicker.

"You’re tight for someone who works these halls."

"Most guests... ah... do not take the older ones."

Kane fucked her harder, the slap of his hips against her soft ass filling the space between them.

Retha’s full breasts dragged and bounced under the strained fabric with every thrust.

She pushed back to meet him, fingers gripping the edge of the table, the flesh of her hips yielding under his hands.

The wetter she became, the easier he sank in to the hilt.

Marisa’s voice came from behind him, cool and observational.

"They are watching. Finish cleanly. Do not linger."

Kane didn’t look back.

He reached under Retha, found the weight of one breast through the fabric, and squeezed hard while he kept driving into her.

"Nnhh..."

The maid’s controlled sounds grew shorter, more urgent. Her cunt clenched around him in rising waves.𝘧𝓇ℯℴ𝓂