The Dragon Rebellion (M-Preg)

Chapter Three: The Mating Dance

"We've received word that the redrya have been secretly gathering in what we believe to be a rebel group. There have been several reports of suspicious behavior in the redrya districts on the outskirts of town. How should we proceed, My King? Should we eliminate them?" Dorian, head of intelligence, asked.

King Bodric reclined back in his throne at the head of the long stretched glass table. His interest remained on his fingernails, ever the picture of nonchalance. He hadn't even bothered to look up during the council meeting. A long brown finger brushed a silver strand of hair back behind his ear.

"Don't bother. They're hardly a threat," the King yawned. His yellow eyes dull with boredom.

"But your Majesty, they have been stealing our intelligence. Even Lord Pelryn's fated pair was caught sneaking into his office to gather intel."

Pelryn's eyes narrowed. His morá tinted a light pink along his cheek.

The King's gaze flickered up and a devilish grin broke along his lips.

"If you insist that they are a problem. Perhaps we can torture it out of the little redrya. I'm sure Pelryn won't object," the King mused, a silver brow tilting upward.

Pelryn growled, fangs piercing his bottom lip and morá shining a bright furious red.

Kincaid frowned.

"Enough, Pelryn. No harm will come to your pair. I'm sure he's already been punished enough," Kincaid sighed. Then he turned to Dorian, "Right now, our priority remains the Tarlikk. If the redrya continue with their pointless rebellion, we will take care of it. But until then, we will focus on what's important."

King Bodric grinned wider, his reptilian gaze fixed on his brother. "Ever the peacekeeper. Pretty ironic, General," he purred.

Kincaid ignored him, refusing to be baited with such a poor attempt. Instead he focused his gaze on the rest of the council.

"It's been two hundred and forty six moons since we've gotten here and we haven't gotten any closer to ending the spread of the Tarlikk. Give it another few rotations and it'll be right at our doorstep," Kincaid said to the group. "We have to act soon or all of this would have been for naught."

The tension in the room thickened uncomfortably between the twelve males seated at the table.

"Have we made progress in reaching the source?" Kincaid asked.

Dorian shook his head. "It's melted through all of our ships. We've already lost fourteen crews and that was with our latest development. We don't have anything stronger."

Kincaid hissed at the loss.

"What about breeding? Have we made progress with that," Erenni, another councilman asked, swiftly changing the subject.

Dorian sighed in relief, happy to report a success.

"We have been making steady progress with breeding houses and pairings. Seventy percent of breedable redrya have been inputted into the system."

"Excellent," King Bodric purred, leaning forward in his seat. "And I hear one of our very own is in the process of claiming their fated pair. Right, General?"

All eyes flickered to Kincaid.

"I have found my mate, yes," Kincaid said stiffly, uncomfortable with revealing that information.

"And when can we expect their...extraction?"

"I will retrieve him tomorrow. He'll be entering his Rut the day after."