Chapter Twenty-Eight—Mother of an Heir
There were fifty in all, and Kagome's stomach flitted in nervousness as she knelt slightly behind and off to the side of Lord Sesshomaru, surveying the gathered females. Kotono stood on the inuyoukai's other side, addressing the group at large, and though Kagome thought that she probably should have been paying attention, she found her eyes roaming constantly over the occupants of the room. 'One of them will be the mother of Sesshomaru-sama's heir,' she thought, and she felt a small thrill of excitement despite her misgivings about the situation. 'Soon, there will be a pup on the grounds.' As she looked over the youkai, she tried to imagine what their progeny would look like. The demoness sitting near the back, with bright orange eyes and black hair—would the pup be silver-haired, and would it have Lord Sesshomaru's eyes, or the vibrant hue of its mother's? Or perhaps the demoness with red hair and green eyes would give Lord Sesshomaru a pup with fair skin and red hair; or green eyes and moonspun hair. The possibilities, she realized, were nearly too many to count. Once more, excitement swept through her. She forced herself out of her thoughts as Kotono dismissed the youkai, and as they filed out of the room, Kagome looked to Lord Sesshomaru. He watched them go with sharp eyes, the rigid set of his shoulders betraying the loose curl of his clawed fingers on his knees. 'Is he…nervous?' she wondered. 'Afraid?' She inspected his profile more carefully, rising as he did and waiting as he and Kotono decided which demoness would be the first to meet him. 'Maybe a little of both,' she concluded, observing the minutely downturned corners of his mouth and the tightened skin around his eyes. She reached forward and laid her fingers against his sleeve; when he turned to look at her, she flashed a bright smile. "My lord will be glad of one thing when this is over," she hinted, and the curious tilt of an eyebrow pulled her smile even wider. "At least they aren't ugly." Kotono chuckled, and the approval in Lord Sesshomaru's eyes filled Kagome's stomach with butterflies.
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Of all the places he wanted to be, this was not one of them. 'And yet, here we are,' a snide little voice remarked. Sesshomaru fought the urge to sneer. 'What good is this?' he wondered sourly, certain that this entire ordeal was nothing but a ploy by the kami for their entertainment. 'Certainly there must be another way to find her.' But Kotono had assured him that this was how it should be done, and he had long since grown out of ignoring the dragoness' suggestions, no matter how unpleasant they sometimes were. He watched as the thirty-third demoness they had called into the room bowed her way out of it, disappointment and anger tainting her scent. His nose twitched, and a movement beside him sent a curl of sweetness into his nose. 'Kagome.' She was, undoubtedly, the only thing that was keeping his patience intact. Kotono, with her mischievous nature, was enjoying the process and the discomfort it caused him; that much he knew from the sly, amused glances she kept gracing him with. But Kagome, sweet, alluring Kagome, was doing everything possible to increase his comfort; she had poured him countless cups of tea, had soothed him with her aura, had smiled at him and chattered nonstop in the breaks between this endless process. And he wanted, so very badly, to thank her in the most basic way he knew how; with touch and heat and passion. He wished to lay his lips against the curve of her cheekbone, to press his mouth to hers and revel in the way she would melt into him—because she would melt into him, he was certain of that. She would sigh and close her tiny fingers into the front of his kimono; she would pant and moan and whimper as he tasted the delicate skin of her throat, her breasts, her belly. Arousal flared, hot and heavy, and he glanced at the cause of it, knowing that she spoke to Kotono and wouldn't notice his perusal. By the gods, she was beautiful. It was a fact he had not forgotten even when she was in the South; a fact that had nearly driven him to take her when she first came back. He could still recall the deep blue shade that her eyes took on in the midst of her passion; the pink flush that spread over her cheeks and chest as he took her. His manhood swelled further at the memory of her sheath; hot and wet and so incredibly tight. Distantly, he heard Kotono excuse herself to bring in the next candidate, and he spared her a glance; there was already understanding in her emerald gaze, and a knowing smile stretched across her lips as she bowed and let herself out of the room. The shoji clicked shut. Blue eyes swiveled to his face, and an instant pinkness blossomed on fair cheeks. "Sesshomaru-sama?" "Miko." She heard the lust in his voice; her own excitement quickened her heart, and her cheeks reddened further. She licked her lips, looked toward the door, gazed at him again. There was only a foot of space between them; he could reach out and touch her if he so wished. He could tug her into his lap, thrust his hips against her to show her just how much he appreciated her presence. And then she was in his lap, and he didn't remember moving, didn't remember crushing his mouth to hers with desperate force. If she was surprised, she gave no indication. Instead, she did as he had known she would, and relaxed bonelessly against his chest, hands clenching at his shoulders. Lips meshed and tongues tangled; she whimpered and sighed; panted and moaned. He gripped her hip with one hand and tugged at her obi with the other; in the instant that the material loosened, he pushed her legs apart and ground against her, catching her gasp in his mouth. "Do you feel what you do to me, miko?" he asked, pressing his hips upward again. A groan rumbled in his chest, and his desire pulsed higher as the little human whimpered and bared her neck, lids fluttering and swollen lips parted. He realized, then, that she was dangerously close to release, that if he thrust against her just…once…more… She cried out and came apart in his arms, and he marveled at her even as his length grew pained with neglect. 'That she would give herself to her passion so freely, so quickly, even outside of the bedchamber…' Possibilities leapt to life in his mind, redolent with images like the one he beheld now; imaginings of passion-dark eyes and sweet release; or grasping, clenching fingers and tears of complete surrender. A sound, a pulse of youki, and Sesshomaru remembered that he did not have the time to fantasize. He dropped a lingering kiss against the human's quivering lips. "Soon, miko, I shall have you again," he promised darkly, enjoying the shiver that trembled down her spine. Carefully and quickly, he adjusted her obi and set her back in her place, the scent of her release teasing his nostrils even as Kotono and the next candidate came into the room. He suppressed a smile. 'Yes, soon…'
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Kagome knew, in the instant that Kotono led the forty-eighth candidate into the room, that she was the one. Her belly flipped, and she resisted the urge to whoop out loud, ducking her chin to her chest instead to hide her smile. "My lord," Kotono murmured, her voice mildly triumphant, "I present Akamoto Mei, daughter of Akamoto Yuusuke of the Eastern Territories." Gracefully, Mei bowed deeply, red-brown hair glinting in the torchlight. "My lord, it is a great honor," she demurred in a tone that was heavy with respect, and her voice was as pleasant as a breeze through the trees. She rose, and dipped a shallower bow in Kagome's direction. "I'd heard of the twelfth's beauty, but the rumors do you no justice, my lady." Pleasantly surprised, Kagome couldn't help the smile that stole across her lips. "Thank you, Akamoto-sama. Please, sit." Silently, the demoness settled onto the cushion across from Lord Sesshomaru, her stone-gray eyes respectfully diverted. Kagome observed her. Though Kotono had told her that she came from a lesser part of the Eastern Lands, her family was wealthy enough to be considered influential. The wealth was, naturally, easy enough to see; Mei wore a leaf green outer kimono embroidered with silver patterns of clouds and golden-threaded birds in flight. Her obi was a deep shade of gray, and the ornaments in her hair tinkled with jewels of emerald and sapphire. There was a diamond-studded comb perched at the top of her traditional hairstyle, and her pointed ears were dotted with pearls and diamonds. The demoness herself was strikingly beautiful, her small, heart-shaped face a study of delicate bones and fair skin. The relaxed line of her lips and the tilt of her chin denoted a calm demeanor, and the way she sat spoke of a submissive, genteel nature. She wore only the barest amount of decorative paint, a dash of gold dust at the corner of her eyes and a light sheen of pink on her lips making her beauty natural; pleasing. "Your family supplies the West with cloth on occasion, does it not?" It was the first time Lord Sesshomaru had spoken to a candidate, and Mei responded in a way that Kagome could tell appealed to the inuyoukai lord; glancing only briefly into his eyes, she nodded. "Yes, my lord. There is a new shipment en route for the winter, I believe." Sesshomaru nodded. "The Akamoto cloth is of the highest quality." Mei flushed prettily. "Thank you, my lord; I will be sure to tell my father." They continued to speak, and as she watched, Kagome suddenly understood why Mei would be the perfect one to birth Lord Sesshomaru's heir. She was different from the others, though her difference came from something far less obvious than her appearance or her wealth. 'It's her honesty,' Kagome deduced, seeing it as clear as day. 'She does not blush to be coy; her shy smile is not faked. She is being honest in her response…Which could only mean that she is here because she wants to be here, because she wants to be the one to have my lord's heir.' The revelation momentarily rocked her. She remembered how confused she had been when she'd spoken to Lord Sesshomaru about the honor of birthing his firstborn, but watching Mei's eyes dart to and from the inuyoukai lord's face, watching her slim fingers toy with the edge of her sleeves with nerves, she understood. It wasn't human honor that Mei sought; it was youkai honor. It wasn't the thought of having the child of such a powerful lord; it was the thought of having a child, and knowing that that child would be cared for, for the rest of its life. And as Kotono touched her shoulder, indicating that they should leave the two inuyoukai alone, Kagome felt relief thunder through her with all the power of a monsoon. 'This part, at least, is done.' She could've danced with joy.
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There were many, many things that Sango was proud of. She could defend herself from the most vicious of demons with nothing more than her hands, could fell an opponent three times her size with ease. She could wield any weapon with startling alacrity, could think her way out of the trickiest of traps and turn those same traps on her enemies in less time than it took her to take ten breaths. And, unfortunately, waking in an empty room, clean and fully dressed, required her to do none of these things; she floundered. The strange sensation of being unsure of herself grated at her nerves; she sat up, pushing the thin blanket that pooled in her lap away from her legs. Bandages, stark white against the tan of her skin, wound up her forearms and calves, spots of blood marring the perfect linen strips in random places. She scowled. 'What has happened? Where am I? And why—' A noise, the shuffle of a footstep, snapped her out of her thoughts, and she reacted on instinct, laying down and pulling the blanket back up to her chin. She waited, feigning sleep. One breath, and then two, and during the third, the rushes hanging in the doorway were pushed aside. A man's footfalls, heavy and purposefully measured, reverberated in her ears, and when he knelt beside her, the scent of sandalwood and incense wafted to her nose. 'A monk,' she deduced, listening to the light clatter of clay dishes and the quiet clink of prayer beads. The monk began to hum a nonsense tune, and then Sango felt his hands on her head; it took great effort to remain still, and even more to keep from lashing out when the monk hefted her body gently into his lap, cradling her head in the crook of his elbow and curling his hand around to rest against her throat. The smooth edge of a bowl touched her lips, and having fed an unconscious woman before, she responded appropriately to the sensation of cool liquid against the inner seam of her lips, opening her mouth just so. As the monk's tune continued and his fingers massaged gently at her throat to be sure she swallowed, Sango weighed her options. If she moved now, attacked now, he would be caught off guard and easily subdued. It would take nothing, she was sure, to overpower him; despite the strength she could blatantly feel in the forearm that supported her head, she would have the element of surprise on her side. Slowly taking another mouthful of what tasted like watered-down rice porridge, she contemplated the method of the monk's imminent defeat. Killing him was, of course, out of the question. She was a demon slayer, not a murderer of human men, but if she could reach the nerve in the bend of his shoulder, then she could fell him without having to hurt him. She almost nodded as she decided, catching herself at the last second and covering the movement with a twitch. She waited. One breath. One mouthful. Two breaths. Two mouthfuls. Three breaths. Three— "I think," he said suddenly, "that you underestimate me." She reacted. Cloth fluttered and dishes clattered, and a grunt and muffled curse was all that echoed off of the walls before the short scuffle ended and Sango was glaring triumphantly at the male pinned beneath her. Lazy violet eyes stared back at her, and a slow smile—one that made her unbelievably wary—spread across sensuous lips. "My, my, taijiya-san," he whispered. "If this is what you wanted all along, you only needed ask." She didn't bother to hold back, and was still shaking the ache out of her hand when she climbed off of the unconscious lecher and sat to finish the rest of her porridge.
Author's Note: Four more chapters until I'm caught up...
Thanks for reading!
~Aubrey
