Deathwing soared through the air toward his mountain lair, no longer worried about anyone following him. It had taken a great deal of time to ensure that he would no longer be bothered by the lesser flights. It hadn't taken more than three or four deaths to get the green, blue, red, and bronze flights to stop questioning him about if he knew where the other four Aspects had gone and when, or if, they would be returning. He had silenced the dissenters by arranging assassinations, using his own black flight as his knives. He used them as enforcers of his will, rooting out dissent and making those who even thought of speaking out against him vanish. His rule was one of fear and distrust, and no one knew who had his ear. No one knew when they would be the next to disappear because either Deathwing himself or someone else believed that they were speaking ill of the only Aspect who seemed to have their best interests at heart.
He alighted on a precipice and surveyed his kingdom once more. The skies were empty, save for clouds that were skidding by, propelled along by the invisible winds. Deathwing stretched his wings, allowing his glorious, ebony self to become illuminated by the cold sun. He became a beacon for anyone actually choosing to gaze upon their sovereign. Then he headed into the mountain, down the ever-darkening path to the hidden chamber below.
The goblins were all gone. Deathwing had allowed them to flee for their miserable lives and ate those that were too slow. The chamber was free of anything remotely related to the previous occupants, and instead was filled with something else.
As Deathwing entered the chamber, they emerged from the shadows, heads bowed, whispering greetings and inquiring about his well-being. Red, bronze, blue, green, they circled around him and pressed close to him, nuzzling and treating him to such attention that he relaxed. His queens, his mates, his slaves, presented themselves for his amusement, and he selected one to be the first to feel his pleasure for herself.
As he slid into Alexstrasza's hot, wet, willing heat, Deathwing purred and closed his eyes halfway, watching his other three slaves eye his cock with a hungry gaze as it slid in and out of Alexstrasza. When the first tongue laved his hard, burning flesh as it pulled from Alexstrasza's body, Deathwing gave a growl of encouragement. Not wanting to be outdone by Malygosa, Nozdormi and Ysera added their attentions to his cock as well, and perhaps even to Alextrasza's hole since it was intimately linked to his flesh.
Deathwing closed his eyes as the heady pleasure of victory washed through his body, just as potent and ripe as the pleasure of that heat around his cock and those tongues worshipping his flesh. He had succeeded in his endeavor. He had succeeded in making all the flights his, had succeeded in making the world his.
He roared as he came, pulsing hot and hard inside of the first among his slaves. It was good to be the Dragon King.