The small pack Alpha whose name I still didn’t know led us forward into a small clearing. Immediately, 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.

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 big as I was now, I would have to crouch to enter our old den. This entrance was only 1m tall at most, with even the smallest of the swarm needing to crouch to enter. Took and I would have needed to bend nearly in half 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 Greel and his simpering ways.

“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.”

With only the slightest hesitation, Creech nodded then led 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… that thereeeeee… is a newwwwww… challengerrrrrr! I hope this one’s cuter than the last!”

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. 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.

Her eyes running appreciatively up and down my body, Farahlia spoke directly to me. “I assume you’re this Alpha who wants to make a wager with me? Not much is left of those I’ve beaten, but they do enjoy the journey, I’ll assure you.” 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 frankly strange.

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. That hierarchy established, 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. Here, though… There was only one desire: lust.

Steadily, more and more keelish from the den flowed out, 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.

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 will follow me. I will prove my superiority in battle. Any questions?”

Farahlia arched her back to look me in the eye, her head tilted flirtatiously. “Only one: Do you like it rough?”

I couldn’t restrain the angry growls from bubbling out of my throat as I stalked back, gave my spear to Took, 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 would-be 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, at my own impotence (no pun intended) and at this brazen female who tried to control me.

With a snarl, I lunged forward, and I saw in Farahlia’s eyes a moment of fear: she recognized that however it was that she used to try to control me was failing her. She tried to fight, 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 legs, toppling her.

Farahlia looked up at me pitifully. “You are so impressively strong, can I follow you forever? I’ll ‘serve’ you however you’d like.”

Dulvroc take me, another one of these.