The body dropped where it stood. Draven held the head by the hair. He walked back to the table as if nothing unusual had just happened. He dropped his head on the table. It landed with a heavy thud. The eyes and mouth were open.

"Seven should still work," Draven said.

Then he pushed the head forward. It rolled across the table. Past one man. Past another. It rolled to the far end of the table and fell off the edge.

Draven looked at the men. The smirk returned to his face.

"Would anyone else like to leave?" he asked in a calm tone.

No response.

"Would anyone else like to go tell Zareth about this meeting?" He asked again.

No one spoke. No one moved.

"Good," Draven said. He sat down in his chair.

He did not need to threaten them with words. The headless body on the floor was enough.

"If you have any questions, you can ask me." Draven leaned into his chair.

One of the men spoke. His voice was shaky. "What...are your..plans?"

"Do you desire to be the next Dark Lord of Drakwyne?" Another man added.

Draven shook his head. "I do not desire to be Dark Lord of Drakwyne. But I have another candidate in mind. Someone more honorable. Someone who will serve the people of Drakwyne better than Zareth ever has." He responded.

The men exchanged glances.

Draven crossed his arms over his chest. "My plan is simple. Get rid of Zareth. That’s all. What comes after is for all of us to decide together."

The men looked at each other. Slowly, some of them began to nod.

"Truly, Zareth should have stepped down a long time ago." Elder Garrow said.

"I hate his guts. His rules. The way he talks to us is like we are servants." Another man said.

"He didn’t even fulfill all of the promises he made to us."

"Now he thinks we are too old to hold power."

"The old lord was better. At least he let us express our opinions, and he listened."

"Zareth listens to no one. He takes advice from no one. He trusts the damn coven more than he trusts us. And then he went ahead to install a Queen without our consent." Elder Garrow snorted.

Draven leaned forward, his hands locked on the table. "The new reign will be different. I promise you that. You will still have your seats at the council but with real power. You will have lands, titles, and gold in your pockets. You will have a fair claim on the trade routes from the eastern ports. You will have control over the timber, iron, and grain. And your families will want nothing for generations to come."

The men exchanged looks. This time, there was keen interest.

The youngest man in the group, who had not spoken since the meeting started, finally opened his mouth. He was well built, no saggy skin or grey hair. But he was bald.

"And who have you chosen to be your candidate?"

Draven turned his head slightly and pointed at Azhren. "He is my choice. Commander Azhren has served Drakwyne for close to ten years. He had overseen the watch guards. He had negotiated peace with the border lords. He had raided packs. He had fulfilled all his duties without complaint or seeking recognition. There is no one more fitting to sit on the throne." Draven said.

All eyes moved to Azhren. His expression was blank. He stepped forward and bowed his head slightly.

"He is a good choice. I have known Azhren since he was a boy. His father was a good man." Elder Garrow said.

"Better him than Zareth." Another man nodded.

Another man added. "At this point, anyone would be better than Zareth."

"I agree. You have made a good choice, Draven." Elder Garrow agreed.

The others murmured their agreement.

Draven snapped his fingers. On the table in front of each man, a piece of parchment appeared. Next to each parchment, there was a quill and an ink pot. The men flinched at the sudden appearance.

"This is a contract. It says that you support my plans. That you will do nothing to interfere whenever I decide to kick off my plans. That you will assist when I ask for it. And that you will tell no one about this meeting. Not your wives. Not your children. Not your closest friends. Not Zareth." Draven said, looking at each man in turn.

Their eyes read through the contract lying in front of them.

"If I hear of this meeting from any other course, I will know it came from one of you. And I will visit you in your homes while your families are asleep. Please go ahead and sign."

The men hesitated at first. Elder Garrow was the first to pick up his quill, dip it in the ink pot, and sign the contract. Then one by one, they picked up their quills and signed their names on the parchment.

When they finished, Draven snapped his fingers again, and the parchment, ink pots, and quills disappeared.

Draven smiled. "Thank you for putting your trust in my plans. You may leave."

The men stood up. They filed out of the room while avoiding the dead body on the floor without looking back.

Azhren spoke when the door closed behind them. "I did not think it would be that easy to get the old men on our side." He walked to where the head had rolled and picked it up. Then he brought it to where the body was and dropped it on the floor.

Draven stood up from his chair. He glanced at the headless body on the floor. "Men like that only need one thing." He said, looking back at Azhren. "A promise to have their pockets filled. Gold. Lands. Power. That’s all they care about. They do not care who sits on the throne as long as they get their share of whatever Drakwyne can give them."

"What should I do with the body?" Azhren asked, glancing at the body on the floor.

Draven shook his head. "Nothing." He snapped his fingers.

Fire erupted from the body and head. And it burned so fast. Within a minute, there was nothing left but a dark stain on the floor.

"We still have to keep an eye on them. Have your men watch their movements." He walked to the door. "Also, keep an eye on Zareth, find out if he is meeting anyone privately or sending letters. I want to know everything." He instructed.

"Okay." Azhren nodded.

Draven paused with his hand on the handle of the door. "I am leaving Drakwyne tomorrow. I won’t be back for a while."

"What?" Azhren rushed to his side. "Why?"

"I have to help our Queen get her mother’s body to win her to our side," Draven replied.

Azhren raised his eyebrows. "Why tomorrow?" He demanded.

Draven turned to face him. He stepped closer and traced his fingers on Azhren’s jaw. "You miss me already?"

"I just—"

Draven pulled him closer and then kissed him. His hand traveled from Azhren’s chest to his crotch, then he gave his cock a hard squeeze. Azhren moaned against his lips.

"I know what you want." Draven turned Azhren against the door. In a swift movement, he tore at his trousers and pulled them down.

Azhren chuckled. "Shouldn’t I come with you?"

Draven pulled down his trousers and held his cock in his hand. "No. I need you here in Drakwyne." He rammed his cock into Azhren’s ass. "And watch the Queen while I am gone."

Azhren grunted as Draven’s cock filled him to the hilt. His hands shot out and held the door for support.

"Oh yes!" Draven groaned. "There’s an elder from Lycanthria that brought the news about the death of Rowena’s mother." One of his hands gripped Azhren’s waist, and he pushed back against him. "I need to know everything about him, too. Make sure to have all details before I return."

Azhren let out a loud moan.

"Do you understand me?!" Draven held his throat from behind.

"Yes!" Azhren gasped.

Draven’s thrust was slow and brutal. He hit Azhren’s p-spot so hard that his eyes rolled to the back of his head. He did three long thrusts and three shallow ones.

"Hmmm...Draven..."

With a final slam, Draven reached the edge. His cock enlarged inside Azhren’s butt hole and filled him with cum.

"I will be back before you know it." He mumbled into Azhren’s ear.

Draven put his cock back in his trousers. Azhren breathed out heavily as he adjusted himself too.

"I will do as you have instructed," Azhren said, moving away from the door. He opened it.

Draven let out a small smile and then walked out. Azhren followed him.