The small pack Alpha whose name I still didn’t know led us forward towards a small clearing. The entire time, I evaluated the fifteen keelish, and with each step, I was less impressed. They were smaller than any of my swarm had been, even the weakest, least impressive of them. These scrawny, almost petite keelish didn’t deserve the name, and every one of my khatif oozed disdain as we continued to walk among them. As we stepped into a clearing where a large hole indicated their den, the stench of uncontrolled and uncontained rotting meat flooded my nostrils. Were I affected by the sensibilities of a human, I might have gagged, but as it was, I simply sneered in distaste as I forced myself to take the possible threat of this swarm seriously. Though this pack was obviously lackluster, their Swarm Alpha could be more powerful than Redael.

I had wondered what the hesitance was for the Moonchildren to enter the den here, but the moment I saw the entrance, I knew why. As tall as I was now, nearly seven feet, I would have to crouch to enter our old den. This entrance was only three feet tall at most, with even the smallest of my swarm needing to double over to enter. Took, Brutus, and I would have needed to walk on our hands and knees to try to enter, and with just a glance back at the swarm, we came to a collective conclusion.

“What’s your name?” I turned to the pitiful keelish we’d beaten down. The more I looked at him, the more I was reminded of a beaten pet begging for clemency, not a proud member of my people.

“Creech.” He didn’t raise his head as he spoke.

“Alright, Creech. Here’s what you’re going to do. You’re going to find your swarm’s Alpha, and tell them to come up here. If they’d like they can try to fight me one on one, and if they win, I submit. When I win, your swarm surrenders to me.” I nodded dismissively. “Now, go.”

Without even the slightest hesitation, Creech flared his frills before then leading his pack into their den. It was a surprisingly long five or so minutes before I began to hear movement and the familiar screeches of keelish echo out of the mouth of the den. In low undertones, I heard, repeating, “...lia, Farahlia, Farahlia, Farahlia…”

A clear female’s voice rang out from within the den, “I hearrrrr… thereeeeee… is newwwwww… challengerrrrrr!”

As the last notes of the musically cadenced words began to diffuse into the outside air, a keelish basically swimming in rutting pheromones strutted out into the clearing. She, Farahlia, I assumed, oozed sexual appeal in a way I’d never seen in any being, human, keelish, or otherwise–including Shemira when she’d tried her best to be alluring.Her hips never stopped swaying as she stepped forward, her tongue constantly lapped over her teeth, her tail lashed beckoning at any male she laid eye on, and her eyes smoldered in a way I’d only heard drunken stories tell.

And she was obviously unintelligent. As a Swarm Alpha, she should have been the most clever, the strongest, the best of their people. And while she was a beautiful keelish, she was only that. A keelish. Not quite four feet tall, hunched and small compared to the more upright bodies of the khatif. Though she looked at me with every inch of her an attempted seduction, Farahlia looked like a child, undeveloped and awkward.

Her eyes running appreciatively up and down my body, Farahlia spoke directly to me. “You’re Alpha? I win, we have fun. I do that before.” Farahlia looked suggestively at a couple males in the crowd of keelish that surged out of the den’s mouth as she continued speaking. The males she looked at were… not all there, said generously. More accurately, they were slavering beasts, looking lustfully at any female within reach, their bodies positively quivering in erotic anticipation. It was off-putting and foreign, something I’d never seen, though it spoke of some tampering.

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Keelish were pests to the outside world, and a messy, violent hierarchy was all that allowed an Alpha to rule over their pack or swarm. Once that hierarchy was established, though, keelish were much like the Veushten I had grown up with, in a twisted way. They had assignments, they hunted for food, some were monogamous, others uncommitted, they had individual personalities and desires. All that remained of those males was only one desire: lust.

I tuned out Farahlia’s posturing as I continued to evaluate this swarm, the dozens turning to hundreds as steadily, more and more keelish den flowed out of the den, until there was a solid ring of them surrounding the remains of my swarm. At least three hundred individuals pressed in, close to us, with the smell of pheromones quickly overpowering and drowning out the smell of rotting flesh from the carcasses that surrounded the den’s mouth. And I was angry looking at them.

With a fiery fury, my khatif pride swelled within me and I strode forward, just out of reach of Farahlia. “I’m going to take control of your swarm. You are a disgrace of a keelish, and will follow me to learn who we are and what you may yet become. I will prove my superiority in battle. Any questions?”

Farahlia arched her back to look me in the eye, her head tilted flirtatiously. “One. You like it rough?”

I couldn’t restrain the angry growls from bubbling out of my throat as I stalked back, gave a look to Took, Sybil, and Shemira, and took a ready stance. In the corner of my eye there was a flashing [System] notification, but I ignored it, too preoccupied with showing this upstart exactly what her place was: below me. I was going to beat her down, to conquer her, to OWN her, and there was nothing that she could do about it. The knowing smirk on her face would soon be contorted into one of submission and fear, failure and despair.

I relished the surging emotion from my khatif side, and was about to lunge forward to overthrow this self proclaimed Alpha, when suddenly my mind cleared and I took a second’s thought to look at my [System] messages.

[Instinct controlling magic detected. Influence greater than initial estimates. Mutualistic relationship with khatif-based genetic tendencies detected. Surge in influence detected. [System] taking action. Full control unable to be achieved. Partial recollection granted. User is granted greater self-control.]

No longer was I consumed with this desire to control Farahlia individually, but a desire to simply acquire control over this swarm, and I realized what had happened. Now, the anger I felt was entirely my own, incensed at the gall of this weakling, that she would dare try to influence my mind. Since I’d become aware of it, I could tell how weak her magic was compared to Sybil’s or Shemira’s and I scoffed at even her momentary influence over me.

With a snarl, I lunged forward, and I saw in Farahlia’s eyes a moment of fear: she recognized that whatever magic she’d tried to use to try to control me was failing her. With a cry, she tried to fight back, but it wasn’t worth much. I lunged forward with a strike, which she ducked, but went down immediately after I swiped my tail into her midsection. I’d only intended to sweep her legs out from under her, but my tail, as thick as her entire torso, instead launched her into the air before she smashed painfully into the ground and gasped. With wheezing breaths, she attempted to catch her breath before speaking up, her eyelids heavy and suggestive.

“You so strong, can I follow you forever? I ‘serve’ you however you like.”

Before I could react to that, though, Shemira stepped forward and, with a swelling of her own magic, forced the other female to bow her head. “SILENCE! Bow to your Alpha!” As the wave of Shemira’s magic washed over the assembled hundreds of foreign keelish, they bowed in subconscious unison and I noted a new flashing [System] notification.

[Skill Evolution progress: True Dominance; 1/5]