“I’m king?” I asked as I slowly surveyed the crowd and sheathed my sword.

“I say we ask them for some food,” Jayna suggested. “I’m famished. Aside from the very occasional adventurous temple visitors, I haven’t eaten hardly anything.”

I nodded, but did my best not to show any other reaction. “I see,” I managed to say.

A single rat emerged from the crowd. He was old—possibly ancient by their standards—and his movements were aided by a finely carved and polished walking stick. His fur was a near-pure white, his eyes were clouded, and his steps were small.

“Welcome. You are the new king of the home of the ratfolk, the new king of Crigahn,” the old rat said. “I’m called Penzaar. I’m the historian. I serve the king; I live to serve.”

“I serve the king; I live to serve,” the ratfolk repeated.

“If it would please the king,” Penzaar said, “please follow me, and I will show you our city.”

“Will my companion be safe as well?” I asked.

“Of course. This way.”

I didn’t detect any malice in his voice or body language, so I followed. He led us down several tunnels. The deeper tunnels had smoother floors, they’d clearly been evened out by many, many footsteps. They must have been traversed far more often than the ones closer to the temple and those beyond.

Along the way, ratfolk approached, sniffed me, and bowed deeply before making way for others to do the same. At first it was unnerving, but I realized they were learning my scent. It would be difficult, if not impossible, for someone to pretend to be me if they smelled different.

I wasn’t sure what I expected to see in a so-called ratfolk city, but it sure wasn’t what opened up before my eyes when we stepped out of the last tunnel.

The ceiling was so high I couldn’t see it except for the glow of its moss. Stalactites as large as office buildings hung down and stalagmites burst up from the floor. I heard water rushing somewhere in the distance and saw movement everywhere.

A tiny rat, reaching no higher than my knee, pushed its way through the crowd, ran up to me, and sniffed my leg before sprinting away.

“It’s young,” Jayna whispered. “A child.”

I nodded as I took in the hanging skybridges of wood and rope, the green glowing orbs outside of smaller stone structures, and the sheer vastness of the cavern.

“Crigahn is ancient—even older than me!” Penzaar laughed at his own joke, then broke into a fit of coughing. A ratwoman rushed over to support him, gently laying his arm over her shoulders for support. He shooed her away and cleared his throat.

“Your palace is this way,” Penzaar said, and began walking.

I followed, taking in everything, and learning to tolerate the constant sniffing. We walked down cobbled streets, over small bridges spanning streams of burbling water, and past busy workshops where ratfolk crafted everything from spoons and cups to swords, axes, and armor.

A short time later, we entered the palace, which was made of large, expertly chiseled blocks. Brass rods supported clear globes of slime which burned the darkness away with powerful, green light. There were several on each side of the arched doorway. It was both welcoming and foreboding.

There were two guards, one on each side of the archway, and when we approached, one opened the door for us. Each sniffed me as I walked past them into a long hallway illuminated by more orbs, though these glowed white instead of green.

Portraits of ratfolk had been painted on both sides of the walls. There were at least a hundred of them.

“These are the kings of old,” Penzaar said as he hobbled on by my side. “If you desire, and when you have time, I will tell you the story of each, or some.”

Every single one of the portraits was of a ratfolk. Some had mottled fur. A few were pure white with red eyes. The rest had distinct shapes and patterns to their mostly black, brown, and gray fur. There wasn’t a single human represented among them.

Could I really be their ruler?

“What about that?” I asked, pointing to an empty bronze wall-sconce. It was ornately detailed — a masterpiece of craftsmanship.

“That,” the old rat said sadly, “is where our most prized possession used to rest. It was the first gem discovered within Crigahn by our first king. I am told it was beautiful. We called it the Heart of Stone. It was stolen before I was born, many years ago. We are still hopeful we will find it someday. We are ashamed to have lost it to a thief. It is a source of grief for us all.”

We continued down the corridor, and I saw more gold and gemmed items than was probably present in Buckingham Palace. Penzaar explained that his people had once been nothing more than primitive thieves, stealing precious items from the surface and bringing them back here. Eventually, over time, they became the prized relics of the Crigahn.

As we neared the end of the corridor, I smelt food, and though the odors were somewhat foreign to me, they were delicious.

Penzaar stopped, turned to me, and looked up into my face with an appraising eye. “It is customary,” he whispered, “for a feast to be held in honor of the new king. You are king, though, so you may choose whether or not to observe this tradition.”

“Oh, I’m all for this tradition,” I said. “Let’s do this.”

Jayna sighed in relief.

“I was hoping you’d say that,” Penzaar said with a wink. “The traditional spot for the king is at the head of the table. To his right, sits his most trusted advisor. To his left, his first mate.”

I was caught off guard. I wondered if I had a navy as part of the deal.

Jayna leaned close. “He means, your first mate, as in you get your official royal hot, wet sex,” she whispered into my ear.

“Oh,” I said, turning to Jayna. “Will that be you?”

“I certainly hope so.” She batted her eyelashes at me.

I felt a smile snake across my face. “Count on it.”

The room was long, and a small fireplace on each side of the stone table warmed the place to near-uncomfortable levels. On the table were platters heaped with cooked meats, root vegetables, and more mushrooms than I could count. Luckily, I loved mushrooms.

Six uniformed ratfolk stood around the table, three on each side. When I stepped into the room, twenty ratfolk dressed in fine linens sparkling with jewels stood up, turned to me, and kneeled.

“I serve the king; I live to serve,” they intoned.

I took my spot at the head of the table. Everyone took their seats when I did, except for Gustav. The seat to my right was open, so I motioned for him to sit there. He looked surprised, but took the seat anyway.

“You do me a great honor, King,” he said. “Former kings are usually killed to ensure they do not seek revenge.”

“Are you in the mood for revenge?” I asked.

“No, my king,” Gustav said, lowering his head. “I am honored to serve you. I look forward to fighting alongside you.

“Glad to hear it.”

A rat dressed in colorful gauze walked into the room carrying a lute. He settled down close to me and began to sing. The lyrics were a recount of my battle against the giant rat sitting next to me. Gustav didn’t seem bothered in the slightest.

“I’m not sure how long I’m going to be king,” I said to him. “I’ll abdicate in the morning, and you can be king again. I’m only here because I agreed to help Jayna.”

Gustav squinted at me and turned his ears my direction. “That’s impossible, my king,” he said. “You must be killed in battle to lose the throne. It’s the only way.”

“I could always challenge you a second time, and yield.” But as I said the words, I knew I would never do it. I would not yield to an inferior warrior, no matter how much I respected him. For better or worse, I’d be ruler of Crigahn for as long as I was in this world. As with anything I had no control over, I accepted it. That was how real men dealt with life.

“If you must leave the city,” Gustav said, “I can act as your regent. I’ll keep the people safe while you’re away. It has been done before, and as your chief advisor, it is to me that the responsibility would fall. You would still be king, the tradition would be upheld, and the government would survive. If you are killed in battle away from Crigahn, I will assume the throne—though I would climb it with a heavy heart. I live to serve.”

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“It sounds like we have a deal,” I said.

There were too many cuisine choices for me to decide what to try first, so I reached for what was closest—a golden platter overflowing with some kind of sliced meat. I didn’t see any utensils, so I used my hands. It wasn’t until I had taken my first bite that the others dug in.

Jayna went for the same platter, but she scooted it close to her before she shoveled some onto her plate with her hands. She took about half of it. I liked a girl with a big appetite.

The rest of the company ate in silence, shooting me occasional furtive glances. I assumed it would take them some time to get used to a human sitting at the head of the table. Until then, they’d have to deal with the discomfort.

When one of the stewards walked by with a glass of dark green liquid, I took it, sniffed it, and decided it was something like wine. I wasn’t disappointed.

“So,” I said to Jayna, after I had cleared half my plate. “I guess this time is as good as any other to ask you about your past. How were you sealed inside the monster?”

She stopped chewing and looked me in the eye. “It was centuries ago,” she said softly. “My sisters, all witches, were captured by people who feared us. They simply didn’t understand us.Before that, we were often hired to perform minor tasks, such as creating rain for their fields, curing minor illnesses, or clearing land. Others thought the magic was artificial and that it would taint their blood. They blamed us for earthquakes, droughts, and storms. They said we created these catastrophes to enrich ourselves.

“Fanatics were also chasing down the monsters plaguing our land at the time. Many died in the attempt. This was all for the good of their people. But then they came after us, and they captured us easily enough. By intermingling our blood with those of the monsters, we became bound to them. We were absorbed by them.” She shuddered at the memory. “I believe they meant to kill us. However, the outcome was not what they expected. So instead, they sent us to the temples of the ancient gods, mostly forgotten, to remain there forever.” She stared down at her plate blankly.

“Who are these fanatics who did this to you?” I asked.

She dismissed the question with a wave of her hand. “They’re long dead. There were many wars since we were imprisoned. None of them remain, but my sisters are still trapped.”

I thought about what she’d said, but decided against asking more questions. anI didn’t want her to end the night in a foul mood, so I changed the subject.

“How did you bring me to this world?” I asked. “Is this a different dimension from mine?”

The question seemed to brighten her mood, and she looked up from her plate. “There are many worlds. They all coexist near each other, but not so near that they can be seen. Your world and this one are two of them.”

“Whoa,” I said. “I thought I would be more surprised, but I always wondered if the stuff you see in movies might actually be real.”

“It is very real. You are the embodiment of its reality.”

“Are there others like me? People who were once in my world but have come here?”

“Yes. Some exist in both worlds, or have lived in one and then crossed to the other. Like Tracy Robertson—the woman I used to communicate with you.”

I sat up straighter. I was of the mind that they were the same person—that somehow Jayna had managed to enter my world long enough to get my attention, get me alone, and bring me to her world. “Where is she now?”

“She came to this world five years ago, but her other self is still on your world. She is here, and she is there.”

”That’s impossible, at least in my book. Sounds suspiciously like quantum-space-time mumbo jumbo. Then again, this wouldn’t be the first surprise I’ve had today.”

“Here,” Jayna continued, “Tracy Robertson is a high-ranking member of the Thieves’ Guild.”

“Strange. Back on Earth she wasn’t said to be ambitious, exactly..” I took another bite of meat.

“Were you friends with her?” Jayna asked.

“Not exactly,” I replied, almost laughing through my food.

“Tracy Robertson is part of the reason I brought you here.” Jayna leaned close and laid a hand on my forearm. “I needed to be freed by someone who could be my hero, a strong and noble man. And, though I couldn’t see much of your world, I could see you seemed to know Tracy Robertson well, and I needed that too.”

“I did learn a lot about her over time.”

“Will you speak with her? Ask her to give you something?”

I had to stifle a laugh again. “I doubt she’d hear me out, and I really doubt she’d give me anything. We didn’t part on the best of terms. Does this have something to do with rescuing one of your sisters?”

She nodded. “Eulene is imprisoned in a temple within Agorima, a fortress owned and controlled by the Guild. Tracy Robertson can take you there, and I know where she is.”

“Okay,” I said. “I’ll go see Tracy. But not before I get to see some more of you.”

I smiled and stood up, and the room instantly fell silent. Everyone stopped talking, —the bard even stopped playing—and dropped whatever they were holding, before getting to their feet. I was going to have to study some of these customs if I was going to be comfortable as their king.

“Please, everyone,” I said. “Sit. Enjoy your meal. Relax. This is a custom where I’m from.”

The ratfolk glanced at each other and slowly sat down again. Soon the bard picked up where he left off too, a happy tune with a steady beat.

When people started continuing their conversations and stopped looking, I offered Jayna my hand. She glanced at the others before she eagerly took it and stood beside me. Her eyes were curious, and her body angled toward me, eager for the physical attention it was hoping to receive.

I lifted her left hand to my shoulder and placed my right hand on her waist. Then I lifted her other hand, pulled her close, and began to move, guiding her across the small rectangle of open floor space at our end of the table.

She looked at me with innocent surprise. We stumbled a few times, but eventually we settled into a swaying rhythm, not minding the sweat that was slowly starting to mingle between our tightly held bodies. It was impossible not to move our hips with the upbeat tempo, and every now and then I felt the alluring heat between her legs against my thigh.

Jayna slid her hand down to the small of my back and pulled me even closer. She must have felt my manhood stiffen against her stomach. Her eyes flitted down, and when they met mine again I saw they now radiated hunger instead of innocence. She knew what was coming next, and she was doing everything she could, all but openly rubbing between my legs with her hand, to let me know she wanted it—she needed it.

But I made her wait. I enjoyed seeing the burning desire in her eyes grow frantic, feeling how her hips stopped moving away from me, instead keeping contact with my body as they swayed and tilted. Every few notes, her hand on my back gripped a little tighter. I did the same with hers, before I allowed my hand to slip further down. I was the king; who was going to tell me I couldn’t grip my first mate’s ass wherever and whenever I pleased.

It was strong and round, I could easily picture how it would be softly jiggling as she danced with me, without losing its gorgeous shape. Her hips curved perfectly toward her narrow waist. As my hands landed there, she leaned in, slowly pressing her firm breasts into my chest. Even through our clothes I could feel erect nipples pressing into my skin. I closed my eyes and imagined what they might feel like between my lips, against my tongue.

“Gustav,” I said with an unwavering voice, all the while holding my firm grip on Jayna’s waist. “Does the king have private quarters?”

“Yes,” he said, standing up. “The door right by your side leads to a stairwell with only one door at the end. Those are your private chambers.”

“Thank you.” I released my hand from Jayna’s back, and slung the other loosely over her shoulder, gently guiding her toward the stairs. “Have a good night.”

Jayna giggled and leaned into my side.

“Thank you, my king. And have a good night.” Gustav bowed low before he sat down again. I could have sworn there was a subtle grin on his face.

Spoiler: Spoiler

No sooner had I closed the door behind me than Jayna pressed me against the wall and began to caress my shirt, face, and neck, seemingly trying to touch all of me at once. She tugged at my shirt and belt, while her lips found mine and kissed them. She tasted fresh—she must have chewed some of the mint leaves as I had—and she was surprisingly gentle at first. First, only our lips touched, and then she slowly circled my lips with her tongue. Her hand had found its way to my bare chest. Suddenly, she started gripping my hard muscles, and her kiss became irresistibly greedy.

I didn’t want her to stop, but I didn’t want to take her right there either, so close to the dinner, so I immediately scooped her up in my arms. She gave a little gasp but let me carry her up the stairs. I went a little slower than usual, as I was somewhat distracted by her hungry kisses on my neck, her tongue on my ear, and her hot, heavy breath on my cheek. I guess if ever there was a good reason to go slower, that would be it.

I used my foot to work the latch on the door at the top of the stairs. The room was illuminated with a green light. Curtains hung from the walls and could be closed to block the glowing fungus if I chose. I left them drawn—I wanted to see her body again.

I pulled her shirt over her head as she dropped her pants to the floor. She stood before me boldly. A proud and gorgeous woman—and an impatient one. She tugged at my shirt and put on puppy dog eyes.

“Me too,” she said through play-pouted lips.

As I pulled off my shirt, though, she started to shuffle and blush.

“It’s been…a while,” she said. “Even before I was imprisoned. But I want—I need—you. I need to feel you inside me, Zac. Please don’t make me wait.”

I kicked out of my pants and shoes and wrapped my arms around her. Her breasts were cool, and I felt her nipples against my bare skin. She gently moved from side to side, her nipples tracing lines across my chest as her hands played with my hair.

“I’ll be gentle,” I promised.

“Let me admire you,” she said, as she reached down and curled her fingers around my cock. Without saying another word, she started kissing my neck, then my chest, and she worked herself down my stomach to my shaft. I was throbbing so hard it felt like my manhood might pop.

I was nervous when she started licking me. She had some long canines, but when she put me inside of her mouth, she was careful not to touch me with her teeth. That probably wasn’t a hard task for those voluptuous lips.

The four-poster bed was large enough to fit Gustav comfortably. I had to grab hold of one to keep myself steady. I marveled at how she took me all the way into her mouth, granting honey-sweet pleasure to the entire length of me, all the while providing extra pressure with her tongue in exactly the right spots.

She slowly drew me out, licked me from base to tip once more, and said, “I’m ready for you, Zac.”

She turned away from me, got on her hands and knees, spread her legs just the right amount, and turned her ravenous eyes toward me.

I got on my knees behind her and was amazed by how wet she was. I hadn’t even needed to touch her. I guided myself in and plunged into her depths. She sighed and pressed her ass against me, urging me with each thrust to push ever deeper. I played around with her a little at first, sometimes holding back when I pulled out. She gave a little exasperated moan when I did, reaching back and scratching my hand holding her hips tight.

“Please…” was the only thing she could say.

I finally increased my speed and force, sometimes freeing a hand to squeeze her ass, until we reached a steady rhythm.

We were almost one wet body made of heavy breathing, new heights of pleasure, and hot, electric skin. My hands were leaving white marks on her hips where I held her, but she only gave a shuddering moan when I came back to grip her even tighter. At one point she pushed herself up on her hands and reached back for me to hold her. I gripped her stomach with one hand and her breast with another as I maintained my rhythm, and she gave herself over to me as she craned her neck to kiss me.

When I placed her back down, she leaned on her elbows, and she knew what was coming. She was nearing her climax too through my powerful final thrusts, saying my name into the sheets with every one of them, already softly trembling.

When I exploded, she did, too. I took her by the hips and pulled her against me hard. She grabbed hold of the sheets and bit into the pillow as she arched her back, pressing her breasts into the mattress so I could see their perfect edges bulge out the sides.

No matter the several doors and passageway between us, nor the music and din, I was sure everyone present at the dinner had dropped their food and turned toward the door to their king’s chambers as Jayna let out the first of a long series of shuddering howls of ecstasy.