The Holy Knights Of Malta Breed Their Prize: A Rough Medieval Captive Breeding Romance

The writ passes into my hands beside the audience hall archway, with the rival watching from the corridor's end. I am to breed Gwendolyn as the designated vessel for the Holy Knights' rite, rough and detached as tradition demands. She holds my eyes while the terms are read.

Her sharp defiance conceals the terror of being abandoned again, mirroring the guilt I carry from a command I once failed. The jagged scar across my chest pulls tight with every thought of tracing the birthmark on her inner thigh and claiming her under the torchlight.

If he seizes the tribute first we lose everything. If this growing bond survives the breeding, the rite itself will destroy us.