• Choose a category
• All
• Classic-Fiction

Layla was sitting on the grass with her knees to her chest and her arms around herself. Her head was tucked in, her shoulders shaking, her robe and hair wet.

“My sister?” Cormia whispered. “How fare thee?”

Layla’s head shot upright, and she quickly scrubbed her cheeks until they were free of tears. “Leave. Please.”

Cormia went over and knelt down. “Tell me. What has happened?”

“Nothing of which you need be—”

“Layla, speak unto me.” She wanted to reach out but you were not permitted to do so and she did not want to add to the upset. Instead of touch, she used gentle words and tone. “My sister, I would ease you. Please talk to me. Please.”

The Chosen’s blond head went back and forth, her ruined chignon falling further apart. “I failed.”

“How?”

“I…failed. This night I failed to please. I was turned away.”

“From what?”

“The male whose transition I saw through. He was ready to mate, and I touched him and he lost his impulse.” Layla’s breath went in on a sob. “And I…I shall have to report unto the king what transpired, as is tradition. I should have done so before I left, but I was so horrified. How will I tell His Majesty? And the Directrix?” Her head dropped down again, as if she hadn’t the will to hold it up. “I was trained by the great ones to please. And I failed us all.”

Cormia took a chance and laid her hand on Layla’s shoulder, thinking it was always thus. The burden of the whole Chosen fell upon each sole female when she acted in an official capacity. There was, therefore, no private and personal disgrace, only the great weight of monumental failure.

“My sister—”

“I shall go into reflection after I speak to the king and the Directrix.”

Oh, no… Reflection was seven cycles of no food, no light, no contact with others, meant for atonement of infractions of the highest order. The worst of it, or so Cormia had heard, was the lack of illumination, as Chosen craved light.

“Sister, are you sure he did not desire you?”

“Males’ bodies lie not in that regard. Merciful Virgin…perhaps it is for the best. I may well have not pleased him.” Pale green eyes shifted over. “It is well and good I was not your instructor. I am trained in theory, not practice, so I could have imparted no visceral knowledge unto you.”

“I would rather have had you.”

“Then you are unwise.” The Chosen’s face abruptly grew old. Ancient. “And I have learned my lesson. I shall take myself out of the pool of ehros, as I am clearly incapable of upholding their sensual tradition.”

Cormia didn’t like the dead shadows in Layla’s eyes. “Perhaps it was he who was at fault?”

“There is no issue of fault on his side. He was not pleased by me. My burden, not his.” She wiped a tear away. “I shall say unto you, there is no failure such as the sexual one. Nothing cuts so deep as the denial of your nakedness and your instinct for communion by one you would wish to mate…. To be shunned in your skin is the worst sort of refusal. So I should leave the ehros, not just for their fine tradition, but for me. I would not go through this again. Ever. Now please go, and say nothing. I must collect myself.”

Cormia wanted to stay, but arguing didn’t seem right. She stood and removed her outer robe, draping it around her sister.

Layla looked up in surprise. “Verily, I am not cold.”

This was said as she drew the cloth tight to her neck.

“Fare thee well, my sister.” Cormia turned and walked up past the reflecting pool.

As she looked up at the milky blue sky she wanted to scream.

Vishous rolled off Jane’s body and positioned her so she was tucked into his chest. He liked her up close on his left side, with his fighting hand free to kill for her. Lying here now, he’d never felt more focused, never had his life’s purpose so clear: His one and only priority was keeping her alive and healthy and safe, and the strength with which he held that directive made him feel whole.

He was who he was because of her.

In the short time they’d known each other, Jane had barged into that secret chamber in his chest, shoved Butch out of the way, and slammed herself in good and tight.