Transmigrated Into A Women Dominated World-Chapter 231

Athea turned to her daughter, her expression softening just a fraction. "And what about you, Viora? You’ve seen him and you’ve analyzed him. Where do you fit into that strategy?"

Viora opened her mouth to answer. She really did not know what the answer was.

She had spent her entire life not knowing about Zaeryn. And once she knew him, Zaeryn was supposed to be a massive threat. But the truth was a whole lot messier than that. He was family and he was someone who also shouldn’t exist according to the rules.

Before she could actually find the words to say, a rhythmic click of heels echoed down the pristine corridor.

Both women turned.

Princess Calyra strolled onto the observation deck.

Unlike Athea and Viora, who were dressed in their crisp, respectable work attire, Calyra swept in wearing flowing, intricate robes. She looked absolutely stunning, carrying an air of effortless luxury.

"What are my two favorite serious people overthinking?" Calyra asked, coming to a stop beside them. She leaned casually against the reinforced glass. "You both look so grim. It’s almost intimidating."

Athea didn’t turn her head. "I was asking Viora a question."

Calyra raised an elegant eyebrow, her curiosity sparking with a familiar, mischievous glint. "Oh? Let me guess. Tactical deployments? Or perhaps new methods of being stoic?"

"I asked her where she fits into Zaeryn’s strategy," Athea replied, her voice cool and measured. "What she truly thinks of him."

Calyra let out a delighted, throaty hum. She turned her bright, piercing gaze entirely on Viora. "Well? Do not keep us in suspense, Warlady. What is the official verdict on our little anomaly?"

Viora looked back down at the lab, watching Sage work. Her mind flashed to the brief time she had spent with him. The answer was tangled up in a sudden, fierce protective instinct that went entirely against her strict military training. The silence stretched out, heavy and expectant.

Calyra watched her niece struggle before letting out a soft, knowing laugh. "Take your time. But..." She purred, a wicked gleam lighting up her eyes, "I already know what my answer is."

Athea finally shifted her gaze to her sister, her ice-blue eyes narrowing a fraction. "Is that right?"

"Absolutely." Calyra ran a hand through her hair, looking incredibly pleased. "I think the boy is a walking scandal. A beautiful, dangerous variable. If he is going to turn this Queendom upside down and collect a whole roster of powerful Warladies, he is going to need some proper guidance."

"What kind of guidance would that be?" Viora asked.

"Someone has to teach him how to wield that chaos properly," Calyra declared, a slow, predatory smile touching her lips. "How to smile at the Council and sneak his way up. I’ll help him choose his targets and help him become more powerful. Also, It really should stay in the family, Athea. I’m looking forward to refining his bad habits."

Athea’s expression remained carved from ice, though her jaw tightened. "Your idea of refinement is concerning, Calyra."

"What? Jealous?" Calyra teased, flashing a brilliant, unrepentant smile.

"I am practical," Athea stated, her voice dropping to a terrifyingly calm register. "Zaeryn is a Lumina. I will not have him treating the Queendom as a playground, nor will I have you turning him into a political explosive for your own amusement." With that said Athea walked out leaving the two of them.

Viora let out a long, tight breath, turning to look at Calyra as the sharp click of her mother’s boots faded down the corridor.

Calyra just laughed. It was a soft, throaty sound that completely dismissed Athea’s terrifying authority. "She is always so incredibly dramatic when it comes to this"

"She is trying to keep our entire family from being executed for treason," Viora corrected flatly, turning back to face the glass.

Before Calyra could offer a response to that, the unmistakable swish of expensive silk and the synchronized clicking of heels announced more company. Viora closed her eyes for a brief second. She already knew exactly who it was.

Andrea and Erythea strolled onto the observation deck like they were arriving at an exclusive gala rather than a restricted military research wing. They were dressed in flawless, flowing garments that caught the harsh fluorescent lighting, looking every inch the untouched royalty they were.

"We just passed Athea in the corridor," Andrea drawled. She came to a stop next to Calyra, her silver hair shimmering as she tilted her head. "What were you three talking about? Aphrodite says you’ve been acting very secretively, especially Calyra and Athea. And lately, Viora too seems to be drawn in."

"Nothing," Viora said, her defensive walls instantly slamming back up to maximum height.

Erythea stepped up beside her, leaning her elbows against the reinforced glass. Her eyes sparkled with that same unapologetic nosiness she had displayed at breakfast. "Please. Even we can see it. You two have been acting suspicious all morning. First the secret whispering at the dining table, and now this?"

"What ’this?’" Calyra asked with an eye roll.

Erythea gestured between the two of them. "This. You two together, hiding out here."

"I’ll remind you that Viora is my niece. This is perfectly natural," Calyra responded smoothly, her tone perfectly flat and unbothered.

"I don’t believe you. I think you are hiding something," Andrea pressed.

Erythea turned her head, offering Viora a patronizing, deeply affectionate smile. "Come on, little cousin. You know you cannot hide things from us."

Viora felt her jaw lock. "I am twenty-eight years old, Erythea. I am a Commander who fights Star Beasts for a living. Stop calling me your little cousin."

"And I am thirty," Erythea countered smoothly, her grin widening. "Which makes me two whole years older and infinitely wiser than you. Therefore, you are my little cousin. Now, what is the secret?"

"There is no secret," Viora responded, looking away to stare stubbornly at the glass.

Andrea looked down at the lab below, then back at Viora, her analytical gaze stripping away Viora’s Warlady composure. "Is it a scandal? Please tell me it is a scandal. This family has been dreadfully boring for years. When I left, I thought things would be better when I came back."

Calyra let out a soft, elegant sigh, clearly deciding she had exhausted her patience for an interrogation. "Think whatever you like, Andrea. But if you will excuse me, I have actual matters to attend to."

Without waiting for a response, Calyra turned and strolled toward the exit, her silk robes swishing softly as she left Viora entirely alone to deal with her sisters.

Viora watched her aunt go, resisting the very strong urge to reach out and pull her back. Traitor.

With Calyra gone, Erythea leaned further over the railing, her sharp eyes scanning the bustling activity in the containment zone below. Her gaze finally landed on the center holographic display.

"Wait... is that the infamous Sage Stellan down there?" Erythea asked, tilting her head thoughtfully. "Aphrodite was speaking about her this morning. Said something about them potentially being friends, or at least getting to know each other."

____

Simultaneously back in Sector 7, the heavy, rain-scented air of the bedroom clung to their sweat-slicked skin, a humid reminder of the storm raging outside that mirrored the one they’d just unleashed on each other.

Zaeryn lay flat on his back, chest heaving as he stared up at the ceiling, trying to steady his ragged breaths.

His cock, still semi-hard and glistening with their mixed fluids, twitched faintly against his thigh. Every inch of him ached in the best way, muscles spent from pounding into Ingrid with relentless force, his balls drained after flooding her pussy with thick ropes of cum just minutes ago.

Ingrid sprawled across him like a conquered prize, her naked body limp and utterly fucked-out. Her full breasts pressed heavy against his side, the silver nipple piercings catching the dim light, two barbells glinting through her hardened peaks, still flushed red from his earlier sucking and tugging. Sweat beaded on her skin, trickling down the curve of her spine to pool at the small of her back. She rested her head on his chest, one leg thrown possessively over his hip, her thigh sticky where his cum leaked slowly from her well-used cunt. A warm trickle of it dripped onto his skin, evidence of how deeply he’d claimed her, stretching her walls until she screamed his name.

The sheets were a total disaster, twisted and soaked, half dragged to the floor in their frenzy, stained with sweat, pussy juices, and the remnants of his release. Ingrid’s hand idly traced patterns over his heart, her touch lazy now, all the fire from her riding him reverse cowgirl earlier burned down to embers of satisfaction.

Thinking back to it made Zaeryn chuckle low, his fingers threading through her damp, tangled hair. "You don’t pull any punches, do you?"

"Why the fuck would I?" she murmured, her voice husky from all the moaning. She shifted, grinding her hips just enough to smear more of his cum across his leg, then leaned in to drag her tongue along his collarbone in a slow, wet kiss. "You hammered me like you meant it. Filled me up so good I can still feel you throbbing inside."

He grinned, savoring the weight of her on him, the way her pierced nipples scraped teasingly against his ribs with each breath. Silence settled, comfortable and thick, but as he stared at the ceiling, his mind couldn’t help but drift back to the conversation they’d had before... to the sprawling web he was building, and the terrifying women that occupied the top tiers of this world.

Women like Kayla. Women like Alysara. And why was he thinking about Kayla in that category? He hated that his mind just went there, but he immediately stopped, shoving it aside, focusing on the woman currently leaking his seed.

"Ingrid?" he said softly, his hand sliding down to cup her ass, squeezing the firm flesh.

"Mmm?"

"About your mom, Maelis—"

Before he could even finish, she groaned dramatically, thunking her forehead against his chest, her breasts jiggling with the motion. "Not this again, Zaeryn."

His laugh rumbled through them both, vibrating against her cheek. "Just one question."

Lifting her head, she fixed him with a glare that was half-annoyed, half-amused, her still hazy from orgasm. "If I didn’t know better, I’d think you’re fixated on her. Anomaly? We just fucked like never before and your cum’s still dripping out of me, and you’re bringing up my mother?"

"Not fixated," he replied, though his strategist brain hummed with possibilities. "Curious, that’s all. What happened when she walked in on us that day? Found us and Ingrid tangled up like that?"

Ingrid’s expression softened, her fingers stilling on his chest as she considered it. She rolled slightly, propping herself up on one elbow, her pierced tits swaying freely. A fresh bead of cum escaped her folds, sliding down her inner thigh. "She didn’t say a word about it. Just dragged me out of bed, made me clean up and prep for classes like nothing happened. Acted like catching her daughter with a male was just another Tuesday."

"Just another Tuesday, huh?" Zaeryn chuckled, the last bit of tactical tension draining from his shoulders. He wrapped his arm around her bare waist, pulling her flush against his side.

Ingrid hummed in agreement, burying her face in the crook of his neck. The warmth of her body, sticky and satisfied, was the perfect anchor. They settled into a comfortable, heavy cuddle, the quiet drumming of the rain outside filling the silence as Zaeryn simply enjoyed the feeling of the fierce Warlady resting completely pliant against him.

The peace lasted exactly five minutes.

With a soft, electronic hiss, the bedroom door slid open.

Zaeryn lifted his head, and Ingrid shifted just enough to peer over his chest.

Ravena strolled into the room, bringing a rush of cooler air from the hallway with her. She looked sharp, her posture radiating that undeniable, confident authority she always carried. She tossed a sleek leather jacket over a nearby chair before her dark, predatory eyes landed on the bed. She took in the wrecked, stained sheets, Ingrid’s flushed skin, and the heavy scent of sex that thoroughly saturated the room.

"I’m back," Ravena announced smoothly, leaning her hip against the doorframe. "Had a few things to take care of with Kayla."

Zaeryn felt his pulse spike just slightly at the mention of his aunt’s name, but before he could ask what they had been doing, Ravena pushed off the doorframe and walked toward the bed.

A slow, wicked smirk spread across her lips as her eyes raked over Zaeryn’s sweat-slicked chest and the fluids still smeared across his thighs. "Well. Looks like I missed the main event."

She didn’t hesitate. Her hands went to the clasps of her clothes, stripping them off with fluid, unapologetic elegancy until they joined the discarded pile on the floor.

"Never mind," Ravena purred, her eyes flashing with a hungry heat as she stood entirely bare beside the mattress. "I can still join."

Then she climbed onto the bed, crawling over the tangled sheets to slide right into the empty space on Zaeryn’s left side. She pressed her smooth, cool skin directly against his flank, sighing in contentment as she threw a leg over his thighs and draped her arm across his chest, her fingers brushing lightly against Ingrid’s.

Ingrid let out a tired, amused huff, not bothering to move away. "You’re late, Ravena. He’s already drained."

"Please," Ravena whispered, leaning in to press a soft, lingering kiss to the pulse point just beneath Zaeryn’s jaw. "He just needs a few minutes to recharge."