When Tomorrow Comes: Dawn

Chapter 3: Trpimira

"Again?" she growled, gripping the door frame, her hip jammed hard against the ornate wood. "This is at least the sixth or seventh one!" Trpimira's narrowed glare slid to the three gammas frantically trying to keep themselves stable at her desk. She ground her teeth and snarled. "Lyevn probably has a s**t-eating grin on his face right now. Isn't there anything that can be done about the tremors?"

"Anorii Trpimira," the youngest gamma whined, "you're asking us to change more than we have control over. The migratory season will slow down construction under your decision to allow them to continue like any other cycle."

"Alphas care about the well-being of their subordinates," one of the other two nudged the younger, imploring her silence on the matter. "The top priority here is Tiphareth and stabilizing the pillars. Then we will be able to expand the catacombs. The tremors won't be nearly as severe with a stronger foundation."

"Why not allow Tiphareth to divide among the four brethren until these...complexities are amended?" The third gamma steepled her fingers as the shaking slowed and came to a stop. "You have maintained a strong relationship with Anorii Lyevn and Anorii Salphrin for so long, surely they would understand--"

"Enough!" Trpimina's eyes popped wide, blood vessels creeping toward her dark irises and her face blossoming with rage. "You think I could ever trust Lyevn and Salphrin after what they did? It isn't as if it is any secret that Lyevn is Yesod-born. The only reason he rose to where he is and sits in the position he has is because he was Idiiana's favorite w***e. Ever since she went into the void, we've had to put up with Lyevn and his delusions about what's best for Ichtaka Raz. And don't get me started on Salphrin! That decrepit dog should have been put down a long time ago."

"He is invaluable to the Ichtaka Raz seven states," the youngest gamma said, too bold for her own good. "He was there during the formation of the void. There are so few records of Daath left, his first-hand account could mean the difference between tremors and collapse."

Trpimira turned away, pinching the bridge of her nose. It seemed Lyevn had made his conspiracies more than a little known among the gammas. He'd probably offered them a place in his harem if they satisfied him adequently, and hadn't bothered to mention that his favorite subordination came from cooperation with his will, his whim, his idiotic ideas about how the fall of Daath was merely a beginning to an end and the tremors would spread like a cancer--that these were no ordinary quakes because he was certain they felt different. That bastard lived too near Malkuth. The ideologies of the bottom had contaminated his thinking. Of course, he wasn't entirely wrong about everything. The springs and streams were drier this cycle, and the tides were lower than ever. The crops had withered in places that once flourished...but it wasn't because of quaking. Ground instability was nothing new; their world of walls and dark was as alive as them and moved the same manner as they did to a beetle. They scurried fast and saw the motion of the bigger as terribly slow, rumbling, and disruptive, but was only momentary.

"Get me a full report on the damage, and I want to see some actual resolution suggestions this time!" Trpimira sneered, her fists curling into tight balls at her side. "And don't you dare think I'll waste my time again on half-baked expansion plans, we can't keep stacking to the roof forever, so find the answers before I find your hide!"

The gammas lowered their heads and gathered their supplies of books and maps, notepads, reports, and scoring pens. They hurried out the door, but had barely escaped as Trpimira slammed it shut on their heels. She groaned, exhausted by the constant fury swelling up behind her eyes and the flare of anger that lived in the back of her throat. How many cycles had it been since anything worked right in Tiphareth? Too long, that was for sure. Trpimira threw herself down in her chair behind her desk. The pitch black of her office was almost soothing in the absence of the gamma's faint glow. She groaned, sinking lower as their lingering scent danced around her head. Her legs crossed and rubbed together, stimulating and soothing her alpha s*x. It was one, maybe two tides from her next season and already she was struggling with the effects. Perhaps Lyevm was right and she needed to simply let go of her fantasies of finding her mate and indulging a little... the omegas were always generous with their bodies, and nothing made them happier than carrying an alpha's seed. Besides, she hadn't a single heir to her state.

Her hand slid from her stomach to the waist of her pants, then into where the heat was mightiest. A groan rolled up from her chest and her breast perked as she explored her desire and the thick slick puddling in the wake of her body's impatience. It wasn't like an alpha to be so eager, but then again, she wasn't like most alphas. She wanted her first time to be with her mate. She wanted it to be the peak of s****l encounter; an explosive, erotic, unparalleled experience. Her hand churned busily, instigating gasps and whimpers and a prickling heat to crawl up her skin. How she longed to be touched this way and yet had restrained herself for centuries ever since her first season. One day, she was certain, soon she'd find her mate, claim them and mount them, hiding them away for an entire season, maybe two...maybe a whole cycle...and make all of Tiphareth know who they belonged to when they came away swollen with child and marked as hers. She groaned, a small cry of relief rushed up in an exhalation as her body trembled and c*m filled her hand.

"Great," she whispered, retrieving her hand and watching the faint glimmering of seed and satisfaction dribble along her skin. Trpimira stood and adjusted her pants, then went to the small washroom on the far side of her office. She rinsed and scrubbed her hands clean and returned to her desk. She froze in place, staring at the stack of papers and catching an unusual smell drifting through the air. Lifting her head, her rigid posture became severe. "Lyevn. What are you doing here?"

The man at the door, the Anorii she despised most, grinned wickedly and slid aside. His thin fingers folded over his arms, drumming with excitement. "Are we interrupting?"

"We?"

"Yes," he stepped aside, revealing a curious young man with an aroma as tantalizing as the glow dancing around him. It was remarkable and alluring, and yet so familiar it was unremarkable. Lyevn hummed out a stifled laugh, then cooed, "I've brought you the invitee you have audience with... also all the guards and staff in the foyer are dead. It's a mess."

"My invitee?"

"Kazimir," the pale-eyed male said, nervous and unsure if he had any right to speak, "of Malkuth, Anorii Trpimira."

"Right, the one interested in moving up to another state," Trpimira said with a soft smile and nod, waving him in. "You understand that it is rare for anyone to rise in state to the extent you are asking, especially those of Malkuth." She paused in stride and turned on her toes toward Lyevn. "I'm sorry, did you say they were dead?"

His thin lips curled, revealing his sharpened teeth. "I did."

"All of them?"

"All of them."

"How did they die?" Her brow pressed down, and her face puckered as she looked from Lyevn to Kazimir who looked as though he were about to be sick. His face had changed to an unfortunate hue--pale in the blackness against a sour glow of luminescence. A creeping chill made its way up her spine and the pleasure she took in Kazimir's peculiar aroma rotted in her nose and burned at her nerves. Worse was the smug way Lyevn raised a thin hand in the Malkuthian's direction. He'd wanted for so long to prove he was right, to move higher up in the states in some vain effort to rally approval for his station, his title as Alpha Superior. She'd never give him the respect he lusted for, no matter how right he was about the tremors. "What did you do?"