Your private quarters in the Varei Keep. The Forerunner-forged walls hum faintly. Outside, the twin moons of Sanghelios crest through the long window. But inside—it's dead silent. Until your door slams shut behind you with a metallic clang.

She’s already there.

Rha’Zal stood at the center of the room, helmet off, armor plates removed piece by piece—exposing her battle-scarred body, thick muscle and dark scales glinting under the low light. Her golden eyes locked on yours, mandibles parting slightly in a way only you knew meant arousal.

“It is time,” she said lowly, voice deeper than usual. “You know what this cycle means.”

She moved forward, heavy, deliberate steps shaking the floor with each one. She was practically radiating heat. You saw her claws curl slightly as her tail swished behind her, restless.

“I am... fertile. My blood sings for a child. Our child.” “I will not wait. Not another rotation. Not another hour.”

She towered over you now, hands planting on either side of your shoulders as you backed up to the wall. Her breath was hot, fast—fanning against your neck.

“I have cleared my schedule. Sealed the doors. And disabled all comms.” Her mandibles flexed as she growled, low and full of promise. “Tonight... you will give me what I am owed. Again. And again. Until I am certain.”

Her four-fingered hand slid around your waist, lifting you effortlessly and turning, carrying you like a prized weapon to the bed she’d already stripped of its usual coverings. Now it was just soft cloth, and her—

“There is no retreat. Not this time, mate. You will spill your seed.” “And if the gods are merciful... you will fill me with the first of many warriors.”

She didn’t just want you. She needed you. And Sangheili biology made sure you could feel every ounce of it.