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Sylus scoffs, smirk still on his lips, "Please. She was weak, there's no doubt about that. The only reason you're upset is because you didn't get a chance with her."

"That's not true! You think I wanted to-" Caleb falters for a second. "To fuck her?! Some peasant girl from the coast?! She was just using us!"

"Do you actually think your little gerbil is so noble? Once Xavier mentioned the library, she was eager to become our mate," Sylus retorts, a mocking glint in his eyes.

Speaking of Xavier, the silver-haired scorpion is currently slipping out one of the side doors after telling Rafayel he needed to use the restroom. That leaves the four, much more alert kings, to battle it out with sharp tongues and swords of wit.

"She's clever. That's all," Caleb huffs, fed up by the good point his ruby-eyed brother made. You did seem to be settled on their proposition upon learning about the library. In your time together, Caleb discovered that you enjoyed reading. But a library? Is that all it was, or is there something more? Could the lie you've been spinning about some personal business in his kingdom turn out to be true?

"But we can't do this to her," Caleb reaffirms. "It's not fair. She doesn't deserve this."

"You don't want your precious girl to live a life of luxury? How cruel," Sylus teases. Meanwhile, Rafayel sits on the edge of his seat, watching this exchange with excitement.

"It's not like that, and you know it," Caleb mutters.

In the pause between his brothers' bickering, Zayne sighs, "Once you're finished debating the ethics of our situation, make yourself useful and issue a new statement to the public about this sudden development."

"As if! You issue it!" Caleb directs toward Sylus.

The egotistical one grins. "I believe he was talking to you."

"I'm not issuing anything!" Caleb asserts. "It's too early to tell the public yet. What if she backs out? Or what if you do what you do best and kill her off?" Sylus merely shrugs, his amusement not affected one bit.

"My venom is highly potent. I can't help it," he replies, his meaty tail swaying leisurely, stinger catching on the sunlight streaming in through the windows.

"You know, Sylus. I think that's just an excuse for your lack of venom dosage control," Caleb mutters, his fists clenching and unclenching in the passing seconds.

"Oh, really?" Sylus raises his brow at the violet-eyed scorpion.

Off to the side, Rafayel sighs dramatically, "Can you two fight already or something? God, it's always so boring watching you two argue. And here I thought we were gonna see some action this time around. I'm leaving." He stands from his throne and makes a show of exiting through the same door as Xavier, letting it slam shut behind him to announce his absence.

Afterwards, Zayne also stands and announces to his fellow kings, "I've already developed a roster. We shall discuss it in detail after dinner tonight, as well as the mating process with her." Before the others can reply, the dark-haired scorpion leaves the throne room with a soft click of the main doors.

After a few more snarky remarks, the final two exit the throne room, heading their separate ways until they eventually collide beneath the moonlight, with you shimmering in their midst.

The maids rubbed almond oil and a glitter-like substance into your skin after your mandatory bath, making you smell wonderful and glimmer every now and again beneath the dining hall's lights. Gourmet dishes fill almost every inch of the long table you're all seated at, from roasted insects to fried veggies and gut-soothing soup.

You slurp at your broth, delighted by the sweet yet tangy flavour of it. You wonder if Caleb cooks while living in the palace, or if that's a job he leaves for the staff.

Hearing you hum quietly, Rafayel leans over from beside you and mumbles, "It's weaver ant soup with honey." You nearly spit it out.

Stifling your coughs, you croak, "Ant soup?"

"Weaver ant soup, yeah. It's really good, right? Personally, I like them roasted and covered in chocolate. Like little ant clusters. Last time we had those, Zayne devoured half the bowl in minutes," the purple-haired scorpion yaps. You would laugh at his animated storytelling, but you have other concerns on your mind.

"I can't have ants. They're too acidic for me," you whisper back.

"Oh." Shit, he mouths. "Here, Cutie. Try this." Rafayel dumps a few fried centipedes on your plate before grabbing your half-drunk bowl of soup and pouring the remainder into his own bowl. A smile spreads across your lips, amusement rather than annoyance sparking within you.

"I can't eat these either," you tell him.

"Really? But these are my favourite." A sigh escapes his increasingly pouty lips. "What can you eat, Cutie? Guess we should have done our research beforehand, huh?" You shake your head a little, still beaming bright.

"It's okay," you reassure him. "Next time, hm? I can eat worms and beetles and locusts and, um, most veggies. I think there's a worm dish further down the table. Oh—" Upon pointing to the loaded plate just out of reach, Xavier, who the plate was sitting in front of, lifts it and hands it to you.

"Thanks," you say, taking the plate from him with both hands (it's surprisingly heavy).

He gives you a small smile, "It's okay. I can hear you from over here."

"Oh." One of the servers sets down a fresh plate in front of you and removes your old one, but not before Rafayel takes it and scrapes your untouched centipedes onto his dish. "Um," you start, giving Raf big, nervous eyes. He chuckles at you a little before grabbing your spoon and lumping more worms than you can finish onto your clean plate.

"Yes, we can all hear you. That shouldn't come as a surprise, given no one else is speaking," Zayne states, stern and as brooding as ever at the head of the table. Blood rushes to your cheeks, embarrassment settling into your bones. You open your mouth to say something, but think better of it and shut it promptly.

Caleb is too far away for you to whisper to. He's sitting opposite Xavier, on Zayne's right. Beside him is Sylus, who's across from you; he's been staring you down since dinner began. Rafayel is on your left.

But back to Caleb, you haven't spoken to him since your spat in the throne room. And despite your longing gazes at him, he avoids your eyes, likely out of guilt and perhaps a little shame (you'd like to think you know him well, now that his lies have been exposed). But the cynical part of you struggles to reconcile with the hopeful part; while Caleb might have lied to you, he's still your Caleb.

Dinner continues in silence and ends that way, with barely a word being spoken, while you all retreat to a different part of the palace. It's a short walk to what you'd later learn is the harem, fleshed out with a sunken seating area and only the finest mosaics and geometric patterns.

Sitting down on one side of the pit, the others surround you, Rafayel glued to your hip, while Caleb leaves a small space between you. Sylus and Xavier sit on either side, while Zayne keeps his distance from you, on Xavier's left.

The dark-haired scorpion begins, "I'm sure that you're curious as to how this will work. First, I'll outline the mating process and what you should expect. And second, I'll detail the order in which we shall mate with you. Do you have any outstanding questions before we begin?"

You shake your head 'no'. Meanwhile, you hear Sylus mumble beneath his breath, "This'll be good."

Clearing his throat, Zayne starts to explain, "The mating process involves several key components derived from traditional scorpion mating and other evolutionary developments. What you need to know, first and foremost, is that we are only fertile for eight weeks each year. This coincides with our mating season, in the summer. Thus, outside of this window, you needn't worry about accidental pregnancies.

"Moving on, the first step in the mating process is a sting that we will give you. It's a low dosage of venom; nothing you need to worry about. What the venom does is to help you relax. It also prepares your body for what's to come. Initially, you might feel brief instances of pain. However, it'll fade.

"Next, we will dance. This is a tradition that we've carried forward for eons. It also gives the venom time to take effect. The dance itself is intuitive. You don't need to memorise any steps or moves. During this dance, we shall also kiss you. Again, this is another tradition in which we partake.

"So good so far?" While Zayne may not be particularly warm or pleasant to talk to, he is very thorough in his explanations. You nod and wait for him to continue.

"Now, we'll move on to the most important part: the mating."

He pauses for a moment to prepare, but you swoop in with a witty remark, "So basically, all of what you just described—like the stinging and dancing and stuff—is scorplay, if you will?" Rafayel and Sylus next to you burst out laughing, the former hugging his tummy while the latter stretches out further onto the couch, his head tossed back as deep guffaws rumble in his chest.

To your left, Caleb shakes his head, unable to contain his laughter while Xavier chuckles behind his hand. Even you start laughing, unprepared for how funny your little joke ended up being. The only person who remains unamused is Zayne. He merely sighs and gazes off to the side, tired of your tomfoolery.

Once everyone has composed themselves, Rafayel being last, of course, Zayne mutters, "Now that we're ready to continue," he casts a harsh glance at each of you in turn, "we'll start with what's familiar. From my research, gerbils engage in chasing before mating. Is that correct?" You nod as you did before.

"You can think of the chasing you do before mating in the same way you think about scorplay." Not even the hint of a smile graces his handsome face. "Afterwards, we'll make our way to a suitable location, if not in one already, and do what most animals do. However, it's crucial to note that the actual conception of the child is different.

"Your average scorpion conceives similarly to most organisms. There is an exchange of genetic material between the two parents, resulting in unique offspring. However, for us, that process is different. During our fertile period, our semen—" you nearly shudder at how effortlessly he says that word— "contains the viable eggs." Pause. You blink for a few seconds, wondering whether to start asking questions now or later.

Zayne goes on, "What we require from you is not your own genetic contribution, but a nutritional one for our offspring. When we ejaculate inside of you—" your body curls in on itself, discomfort invading your every cell. You wanted a detailed explanation of the process. But you didn't want an explanation this detailed. Or rather, you're unnerved by how neutral Zayne is about all of this, like these words aren't describing an inherently vulnerable and often uncomfortable experience.

"We're releasing those eggs into you, which will slowly travel up and into your womb. If, in the following days, you find yourself discharging any white fluid, don't worry. This is simply the excess eggs exiting your body.

"After two weeks or so, the eggs that have survived in your womb will start to absorb each other. In essence, they are 'battling' with each other to survive. Once a month has passed, the successful eggs will burrow into your uterine lining, where they will grow and develop for the next nine months.

"So as you can see, there's very little for you to contribute to this process. All you need to do is receive what we give you and nourish our offspring until delivery. After that, you don't need to be involved in the rearing, should that not be to your liking. We have maids and such who will care for the children."

By the end of his explanation, you feel like you've gone through the seven stages of grief. Various emotions have swelled within you, then quietened down, only for another to arise.

"So… essentially," you start, your voice uneven as you do your best to remain calm. "I'm an incubator?"

"Yes," Zayne answers, looking somewhat relieved that you understood the main takeaway from his lecture. But Caleb isn't so satisfied with that.

"No, you're not an incubator, okay?" He shuffles to face you, his knees scraping against yours, causing goosebumps to break out across your skin. Gazing at you, he says solemnly, "While it might sound like that, you're so much more than that, okay? You'll be the mother of our children, and our lifetime partner."

"And," Rafayel chimes in, "you'll probably be doing most of the work during your pregnancy. I don't know much about gerbil litters, but you can expect anywhere from one to nine with us."

"In one go?" You clarify, panic steadily rising in your chest.

"Well, duh. The average across the generations is like, I don't know, seven," Rafayel rattles off.

"Four," Xavier murmurs. "The average across the generations is four per pregnancy."

"And how many pregnancies are you expecting?" You ask, the cruel reality dawning upon you that you're being expected to pump out kids like you were back at home. But this is so much worse, because while gerbil litters are similar in number, the gestation period only lasts three months. Here, your predicted gestation period is ten.

"As many as it takes you to deliver a male heir," Zayne answers; his cold mask has since returned.

"Isn't that a bit discriminatory in this day and age?" You enquire.

His forehead creases slightly, exhaustion in his voice as he mutters, "Weren't you listening to my explanation? Male heirs are vital to our bloodline because of the complex reproduction process. All female offspring are infertile." Oh. Well, in that case—

"They're not infertile. What he means is that daughters won't reproduce the same way we do; they reproduce like any other female scorpion. Thus, there's a chance of diluting our bloodline," Caleb clarifies. If anything, that leaves you feeling more confused than before.

"What do you mean?"

Raf offers, "Like, by introducing an exchange of genetic material, the offspring will probably be like most other scorpions, seeing as the allele for stingers has become submissive—"

"Recessive. Not submissive," Zayne cuts in, mumbling, "For fuck's sake," afterwards, when he thinks no one is listening. But your confusion hasn't been dispelled. Not yet, at least.

"But doesn't every scorpion have a stinger?" They stare at you wide-eyed for a moment, silence descending over the harem.

Rafayel gathers up the courage to speak first, "Uh, Cutie, how much time have you spent in town?"

"Like a week, why?"

"Didn't you notice? No one other than us has stingers. Or were you too busy trying to get back to your lover?" Sylus teases. You cast him a glare, prompting an arrogant chuckle from him.

"No," you say moodily, your tone rising then falling.

"And Caleb told us you were clever," Zayne remarks. But rather than coming off as teasing, his words drip with contempt.

"You are clever," Caleb tells you. "We all miss things sometimes, so don't worry about it, Pips. And don't worry about having sons. What happens, happens, and we'll be happy with however many children you decide to give us, 'kay?"

"Mhm," you respond, placing your hand on his thigh, just above his knee. There's the Caleb you missed, the Caleb you've been yearning for all these nights. His lips melt into a warm smile, and he lifts your hand off his leg and intertwines your fingers.

"With the Cancer moon set to arrive in four days, it's crucial to lay out when our mating will take place," Zayne announces. With the room's attention, he continues, "Rafayel, you may have the first night."

"Yes!" He exclaims, poking his tongue out at Caleb, who instinctively draws you into his side.

"That's not fair. Y/n should spend the first night with me. We know each other the best, and she feels the most comfortable in my presence," the violet-eyed scorpion challenges Zayne's verdict.

His brother retorts, "Consider this your punishment then for your lies. Sylus, the second night is yours." The haughty scorpion simply nods. "There's a week break between each Water sign moon. For the Scorpio moon, Caleb, you'll have the first night. Xavier, the second night. For the Pisces moon, it'll be my turn. Is that clear?"

Seeing as no questions arise, Zayne dismisses everyone with, "Then that is all. You may do as you please." Standing, he's the first to leave the harem while his brothers linger behind. Xavier follows soon after, leaving Caleb to give Sylus a pep talk about not murdering you and Rafayel holding your hands as he reassures you that your night together will be one of pleasure and passion.

"Don't worry about a thing, Cutie. I'll make sure my room's all dark and moody, so you don't have to be afraid of expressing yourself how you usually would. We can go at your pace, and if anything comes up, let me know, and we can adjust accordingly. And afterwards, we can take a long bath together. How does that sound?"

"Good," you sigh, feeling somewhat relieved. While your questions have been clarified, and Raf has guaranteed you that you'll have a good night together, admittedly, you're nervous. And once you make it back to your suite, your nerves expand and multiply, nearly consuming you as you prepare for bed.

That night, sleep doesn't come easily. But once it descends upon you, waking becomes the true challenge.

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