Sword of the Gods: The Chosen One by Anna Erishkigal

knob to the
chamber where these particular types of ‘appointments’ were kept.  Depending on
his schedule, sometimes he spent more time in this office than his real one.
    “Hemaniel.”  Zepar
rattled off the particulars.  “She's under the command of Colonel Gavreel on
the battle cruiser Emperor’s Eye."
    “Is this her first
mating attempt?”
    “She is fresh out of
the academy.”  Zepar peered at the smart board he always carted about with
exaggerated obsequiousness.  “She claims to be a virgin, although we don't
verify the veracity of the pre-mating questionnaire.  All we care about is that
she is coming into heat.”
    “The Emperor has them
all so brainwashed they can only form relations to bear offspring that she
probably is a virgin.”  Lucifer's wings flicked with irritation.  “It
will take extra time to break her in.  How long do I have?
    “I scheduled one
hour.”  Zepar tucked his dirty white wings against his back.  “You'll need to
use your gift to get her to perform within the allotted time.  You have an
important meeting with the Ministry of Defense at 4:30 and you need time to get
cleaned up beforehand.”
    For all but the first
fifteen years, Chief of Staff Zepar had run every aspect of Lucifer's 240-year
life.  He was the one in front of the cameras, but it was Zepar who
really ran the show.  But wasn't that the way things always were for men of
power?  Zepar got the dirty work done for him the same way that he performed
all the dirty for the Emperor.
    He spied a senior
Ramidreju delegate walk out of an adjacent chamber with his arm around his
wife's shoulders, the disheveled nature of their pelts indicating they'd taken
advantage of the temporary sleeping quarters to have a little 'appointment' of
their own.  The wife smiled up at her husband, chattering about their latest
litter of kits.  A feeling of jealousy clenched at Lucifer's gut.
    “Just once I would
like to have enough time to get to know some of these females instead of these
constant, meaningless fucks."  Lucifer gave a bitter sigh.  "If you
ask me, that's why our species is dying out.”
    “You know that's
forbidden, Sire,” Zepar reminded him.  “You're the highest ranking civilian
authority in the Alliance, and also the Emperor’s adopted son.  You have to set
a good example.”
    “Like I give a crap
about what my father forbids?”  Lucifer closed his eyes and pressed his
forehead against the door, allowing the coolness of real wood to sink into his
skin.  With his genetic enhancements, his hearing was far better than most
naturally evolved creatures.  He could hear the anxious rustle of feathers from
behind the door as the nervous female paced.
    “You know the
consequences of forming an emotional attachment during sexual relations,” Zepar
warned.  “You're one quarter Seraphim.  The Emperor has refused to disclose
whether or not you inherited their defective gene.”
    That small, sarcastic
inner voice that Lucifer hated down to the core of his bone marrow, but which
was always maddingly, irritatingly right all the time, parroted his
Chief of Staff's warning. 
    'It will kill you. 
Just like it did your mother...'
    The Seraphim! 
Lucifer's wings trembled with the anger and sorrow that very word inspired. 
With a genome spliced together from two monogamous species, full-blooded
Seraphim Angelics took one mate, for life, a genetic defect which had resulted
in losing two Angelic super-soldiers every time one of them had
died in battle. 
    Long before Lucifer
had been born, the Emperor had segregated out the worst offenders and banished
them to their own planet, far from the Alliance so they would stop muddying up
the gene pool of his armies.  Since then, Hashem had done everything in his
power to eradicate the troublesome gene and discourage close interpersonal
relationships so he would stop losing mated pairs. 
    Only Lucifer knew it
was the real reason for the law against fraternization