Serpent Emperor's Bride-Chapter 88: The Beast and the Moonflower

[Silthara Palace—Emperor’s Chamber—Day after Day]

The days did not pass in Silthara Palace; they dissolved. Morning blurred into dusk, dusk sank into night, and night returned again like a tide that refused to retreat.

And within the emperor’s chamber, the rut of the Serpent King did not weaken; it deepened.

"Hngh... ahh...ahhh...aahhh...hnghhh."

Zeramet drove forward again, both of his cocks burying themselves fully inside his consort. Each thrust ended the same way—his body shuddering as he spilled his essence deep within Levin, filling him again and again.

But still—the rut did not calm; it only burned hotter. Days folded into nights, and still Zeramet remained insatiable.

Meanwhile, Levin’s body had begun to fail him. His eyes were swollen from sleeplessness, lashes damp with tears that would not dry. His pale skin was flushed and trembling, his breath uneven after nights of relentless claiming.

SLUMP.

At last Levin collapsed forward onto the bed, face buried into the silk cushions, his body shaking with exhaustion. His butt was bruised crimson, his back scattered with dark marks of teeth and possessive hands. Tears slid down his cheeks unchecked.

And beneath him, Zeramet’s seed spilled slowly from his stretched butthole, dripping onto the silk sheets. Zeramet’s golden eyes flicked downward and a slow smile curved across his lips.

"They are spilling out," he murmured thoughtfully; his voice held the quiet amusement of a king observing something inevitable.

"Then I suppose I must fill you again."

Levin did not even lift his head; he had no strength left. Zeramet reached down and slid his large hands beneath Levin’s stomach, lifting him easily as though he weighed nothing. He turned him gently so their eyes met.

Levin’s lashes trembled; Zeramet brushed the tears from his cheeks with surprising tenderness.

"My moonflower..." he murmured softly. "Why are you crying?" 𝐟𝐫𝕖𝗲𝘄𝚎𝗯𝕟𝐨𝕧𝐞𝚕.𝕔𝕠𝐦

His thumb brushed beneath Levin’s eye.

"Does it hurt?"

Levin nodded weakly, his breath hitching as Zeramet’s fingers traced the curve of his buttock, still hot and throbbing from his grip. Zeramet’s touch was not gentle—it never was during his rut—but it was possessive, almost reverent, as if he were handling some precious, delicate treasure.

"You should be accustomed to this by now, consort," Zeramet said softly, his breath hot on Levin’s ear as he leaned down, his massive body caging Levin beneath him. "You know the depths of my desire for you. You know that when the rut takes me, I am a beast, insatiable and wild. You knew it would end with tears, my dear." "

Levin’s thoughts were a blur, his body aching and spent, his senses overwhelmed by his prime alpha’s pheromones, thick and choking in the air.

He sniffled faintly, "But... this time... you are..."

His voice faltered. Zeramet’s hand slid through his hair slowly and said calmly, "That time, I restrained myself."

His thumb moved down to Levin’s lips. It pressed gently until Levin opened his mouth, allowing Zeramet’s finger to slide slowly across his tongue.

"But this time..." Zeramet’s eyes darkened. "I will not restrain myself, because my consort looks far too beautiful when he cries."

His fingers traced the curve of Levin’s jaw.

"It makes the beast inside me wish to ruin you completely."

Levin’s thoughts drifted hazily.

’Four nights...’ The realization weighed heavily in his mind. ’Four nights... and still he is not satisfied ...’

Zeramet’s hands, rough and demanding, gripped Levin’s buttocks, spreading them wide as he prepared to mount him again.

"Forgive me, consort," he growled, his voice barely human as his dual cocks, still slick and glistening from their previous coupling, pressed against Levin’s swollen, stretched entrance. "But I cannot hold back any longer."

And then—THRRRRRUUUUUSSSSST!!!!!!

Levin’s body shuddered violently; he could not scream anymore, only tremble. His fingers clung desperately to Zeramet’s shoulders as the emperor began to move again, deeper and deeper with every motion.

Whenever Levin tried weakly to crawl away, Zeramet’s arm wrapped around his waist and pulled him back effortlessly.

"I am not finished yet, consort," he whispered against Levin’s ear.

And so the claiming continued, across the bed, against the walls. Even before the tall palace windows beneath the night sky.

"Zer... someone might see..." Levin whispered weakly once, glancing down the moonlit balcony.

Zeramet only laughed softly. "No one is permitted near this chamber during my rut, consort."

His hand tightened around Levin’s throat gently but firmly, "So spread your legs wide."

And Levin obeyed, because he had no strength left to resist.

When, at last, Levin’s body gave out, he collapsed onto the bed once more. His body trembled uncontrollably. Marks covered his skin like scattered constellations.

"I... cannot..." he whispered faintly.

Zeramet paused, for the first time in days, and the burning madness in his golden eyes began to soften slightly, the madness of his rut slowly ebbing away.

He looked down at his consort, his dark golden gaze filled with a primal, possessive hunger, and whispered, "Just one more time, my love. Just one more, and I swear this will be the last."

Levin did not believe him; he had said the same words countless times before. Yet still, he nodded weakly, "Just... one more."

Zeramet smiled, and when his gaze lowered, he noticed his sperms still dripping slowly from Levin’s butthole.

The sight darkened his expression, and then—THRRRUUUSSSTTTTT!!!!

He moved again, "Look at me, consort."

Levin lifted his head slightly.

"Kiss me."

Levin obeyed; he parted his lips, and their lips met. Zeramet’s tongue slid slowly against Levin’s as his powerful body moved again, surrounding him with heat and the overwhelming weight of his pheromones.

They filled the chamber like thick incense as the minutes passed; with a final, brutal thrust, Zeramet was filling him again, his dual cocks pulsing and throbbing as they spilled their seed deep into Levin’s womb.

Claiming him, every small cell in Levin’s body screamed the same truth. He belonged to Zeramet Karash.

Entirely.

Completely.

His spine arched, his body convulsing as he took every last drop, the sperm overflowing, spilling down his thighs even while Zeramet still remained inside him.

Levin’s back arched helplessly. Pain and pleasure blurred together until he could no longer tell the difference.

"I... can’t..." he whispered faintly.

His eyes fluttering closed as darkness claimed him, he finally, mercifully, succumbed to the sweet, numbing embrace of unconsciousness.

As Levin lay there, his body marked and claimed, his hole stretched and swollen and dripping with his prime alpha’s seed, Zeramet’s form shimmered and shifted, his human guise falling away as he took on his true form—a massive, serpentine beast.

He crawled over Levin, his body coiling around his consort, his forked tongue flicking out to taste the air, to taste his mate, his consort, his beloved.

"Mine," he hissed, his voice a low, dangerous whisper, filled with a primal, possessive hunger. "Just mine. He is mine. Mine."

And with that, he wrapped his massive, serpentine body around Levin, holding him close, protecting him, claiming him, owning him, as his consort, lost in the sweet, numbing darkness of exhaustion and surrender.

***

[Two Days Later — Silthara Palace — Emperor’s Chamber]

Morning returned to Silthara Palace quietly.

Birdsong drifted through the high lattice windows, soft and distant, like prayers carried on the wind. Sunlight slipped between the carved pillars of the Emperor’s chamber, painting long bands of gold across the marble floor.

For two days the chamber had remained silent, at last—Levin stirred. His eyelids fluttered slowly, as though waking from a dream too heavy to leave behind. His mind struggled to gather itself.

’...Is it morning...?’

The thought drifted lazily through the haze of exhaustion.

His lashes lifted, the world swam for a moment before settling into focus and then he heard a voice.

Low, hoarse and guilty, "I am a monster..."

A pause.

"I am a monster who hurts..."

Levin frowned faintly, slowly, carefully, he turned his head. There, beside the bed, sat Zeramet.

The Emperor of Zahryssar looked nothing like the unstoppable beast of the previous nights.

He sat half-dressed, wearing only loose trousers, a brown shawl draped across his shoulders. His elbow rested against his knee, his brow pressed into his palm as though the weight of his thoughts had become too heavy to carry.

"I am a monster..." he murmured again.

Levin blinked, trying to clear the fog in his mind, "Zer..."

The word scraped painfully from his throat.

"—cough—"

His voice cracked, dry and rough. Seven nights of breathless cries had left it hoarse.

Zeramet moved instantly, "Consort—!"

He was at Levin’s side in an instant, his hand reached for a nearby cup, lifting it carefully as he supported Levin’s head.

"Drink slowly," Zeramet murmured softly. "Just a little."

Levin obeyed, taking small sips. The cool water slid down his throat like rain after drought, e exhaled quietly, relief softened his chest.

Zeramet’s arm slipped beneath him instinctively, pulling him gently closer— But Levin groaned the moment his body shifted.

"It... hurts..."

Zeramet froze, a flash of panic crossed his face.

"I’m apologise—!" he said quickly, easing him back against the pillows with careful hands. "Forgive me, consort, I was only—"

He stopped himself.

"...happy to see you awake."

Levin nodded faintly, now that his mind had cleared slightly, he became aware of his body. Every muscle ached. Bruises painted his skin. His hips throbbed with a deep soreness that reminded him very clearly of the last week.

Zeramet reached for his hand. Slowly, reverently, he lifted it to his lips and kissed the back of Levin’s fingers.

"I owe you an apology," Zeramet said quietly. "For making you suffer through seven nights of my rut."

Levin froze, his eyes widened, "...Seven...?...seven nights?"

Zeramet nodded slowly, "Yes."

His gaze dropped with guilt, "I tried to restrain myself as I did before... but this time...I failed."

Silence lingered between them. Levin stared at him, stunned.

’Seven nights...It is surprising I survived...’

Zeramet spoke again, his voice softer now, "Can you forgive this husband of yours?"

Levin blinked, he had never seen this expression on Zeramet’s face before. The mighty Serpent Emperor—Looking almost... uncertain.

Almost like a child waiting for judgment. Levin felt heat rise faintly in his cheeks.

’I never knew he could make such a face...’

His voice came out quieter than expected, "I... forgive you."

Zeramet’s expression softened immediately. Relief washed across his features. He leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss to Levin’s forehead.

"My sweet consort," he murmured. "Only you possess the power to forgive a monster like me."

Levin smiled faintly. Zeramet brushed a strand of hair from Levin’s face before speaking again.

"I have already cleaned your wounds and changed the sheets, Your body needs time to recover." He adjusted the blanket over Levin’s shoulders. "Rest for a few days."

Levin nodded weakly, "Yes... I will."

Zeramet leaned down once more and kissed his cheek. Then his gaze drifted to Levin’s swollen lips. For a moment—He almost leaned in, but he stopped himself.

’Control yourself. He forgave you once. Do not test his patience again.’ Zeramet exhaled quietly.

Instead, he ruffled Levin’s hair, "I will return soon."

Levin nodded. Zeramet rose from the bed and walked slowly toward the chamber doors. When they closed behind him—The room fell silent again. Levin sank deeper into the pillows.

A soft groan escaped him, "...It really hurts..."

The words faded into the quiet chamber, carried away by the slow morning breeze drifting through the carved lattice windows. Yet despite the ache that lingered through every muscle of his body— A small, weary smile touched Levin’s lips.

His hand rested gently over his stomach, fingers curling there unconsciously, as though protecting something that did not yet exist.

His voice was barely more than a whisper, "I really wish... to carry our child."

The words lingered softly in the stillness of the Emperor’s chamber—fragile, hopeful, and filled with a quiet longing that even the ancient stone walls seemed to hold with reverence.