by Ivy Barrett
“I’m not a pilgrim. The reason for my journey is…complicated.” He looked at the river and sighed. “Is the current always this strong? I really would like to cool off.”
“Does Lutton know you’re here?” His neat sidestep made her curious enough to press. “Did you meet him on Halley Prime or d’Arrest?”
“I met him for the first time a short while ago, but Miranda suggested I claim a previous acquaintance. She was afraid being her friend wouldn’t open many doors for me.”
“She was right. I’m surprised Lutton played along. That’s not like him at all.”
“I decided not to use the deception. The high priestess responded to the disruption caused by my arrival. She took me to Lutton, but he was in some sort of meeting. He asked her to see to my comfort while I waited for him. She suggested I enjoy the steam caves and my imperfect sense of direction led me here.”
Suspicion tingled down Serena’s spine. Hyalee knew her daily routine. Had the high priestess steered this intriguing stranger into her path?
“I spotted the caves on the other side of the river, so I reluctantly waded across,” he went on when she didn’t comment.
How long had he been in the area? Was it possible he’d seen her touching herself? A tingling flush crawled up her neck as she imagined him peering through the leaves as she explored between her thighs.
She gave herself a mental shake and continued the conversation. “You’re not much of a swimmer, I take it?”
“I’m terrified of water.” He laughed, but threads of black snaked through his soul strands.
Serena licked her lips and glanced away. She hadn’t intentionally looked at his strands, so why had she seen the sudden change? Black could indicate many things, fear, deception, even death. Regret and grief could also produce the color. The overall change in the pattern was a truer indication than the surge of an isolated color.
“We don’t bathe in the river. As you noticed, the current is swift and we don’t want to pollute the water. Come, I’ll show you.”
“Lead on.”
As they started off through the trees, Serena reached for Orillia’s mind. Can you give me a little more time? Meet me down by the bathing pools. I have an idea.
If you’ll keep trying, I’ll distract these two all night. Just call out to me when it’s safe to turn them loose.
Serena smiled at her sister’s boast. Vitik and Fyn were lusty, to be sure, but they were also dedicated to her protection. Despite Orillia’s confidence, her time was limited.
“Is Hyalee waiting for you?” she asked Matt. “I’m surprised she didn’t send you with an escort.”
“She probably didn’t want to subject anyone else to the smell.” He chuckled again. The rumbling sound was warm and appealing. “I’m not accustomed to this heat.”
“Well, let’s get you cooled off.” She motioned to her left. “It’s not far.”
“I gather from your robe that you’re a priestess like Hyalee?”
“Hyalee is high priestess. I only just ascended.”
“I’m not familiar with that term.” He fell into step behind her as she wended her way along the barely discernible path.
“I just competed my training. When the full moon rises again, my time for evaluation will end. I will either be accepted by the Order permanently or I’ll need to choose another path.”
“You sound anxious. Is there some sort of final assessment?”
With her back to him, she was free to let her frustration show. “The final assessment, as you call it, is usually nothing more than a celebration. Unfortunately, I’m still struggling with some of my skills.”
“What will be expected of you?”
She had brought up the subject, so she shouldn’t feel invaded by the question. Still, her emotional barriers slammed into place. “It’s complicated.”
That sexy chuckle sounded again as they emerged into a small clearing. “I suppose I deserved that. If I tell you more about myself, will you explain why you’re worried about the assessment?”
She was never comfortable talking to men. Ever since her ascension she’d spent most of her time in seclusion, meditating or honing her ability to summon soul strands. So why did this outsider put her at ease?
“This is where my people bathe.” She indicated the vine-covered cliff wall and the series of shallow pools. “We are on the back side of the steam caves. An underground spring flows beneath this mountain. We funnel rainwater into a cistern located in the upper chamber of the caverns. After it is heated by the steam, the water flows through wooden tubes to these dispensers.”
“Warm showers in the middle of the jungle?” He looked suitably impressed. “I never would have imagined.”
“Lutton instituted many improvements upon his return from d’Arrest. Since he insisted we keep our wash water separate from our drinking water, we have seen a decrease in many once common illnesses.”
“That’s wonderful.”
She smiled. “I agree. We use plant extracts to cleanse our skin and hair. They are stored in baskets tied among the vines. Would you like my assistance?” He hesitated, looking at the bathing area and then at her. Why was she being so bold? This was not like her at all. “The Perrlain find no shame in our naked bodies. We are the ultimate expression of the Deity’s creative skill. We are wondrously made and all life is meant for celebration.”
“I think I would feel more comfortable if you joined me, rather than serving me. Is that permissible?”
She didn’t miss the subtle challenge in his gaze. Show me yours and I’ll show you mine? Amused by his reluctance, she unfastened her robe and walked to a nearby tree. Entertaining guests had become the responsibility of the Order. Many of the priests and priestesses enjoyed interacting with people from other cultures. Mostly Serena watched. She removed her only garment and hung it from one of the branches.
His gaze narrowed as he looked at her breasts and she cringed. The tersatta pulp had left red streaks on her skin and stained her nipples bright red. Had he seen her applying the pulp or was he just curious about the discoloration? Ignoring her impulse to cover herself, she motioned toward the tree.
“You can leave your garments here. I’ll have them cleaned and returned to you.”
“If I just leave them on while I bathe, we’d kill two birds with one stone.”
“We live in harmony with all forms of life. It is a sacrilege to—”
“Accomplish two tasks at one time,” he clarified as he joined her beneath the tree. “I didn’t mean it literally.”
“Lutton has incorporated such phrases into his speech since he returned from Halley Prime. Does everyone on that planet speak in metaphor?”
“To some extent, I suppose we do. I bet there are Perrlain sayings that will make no sense to me.”
He was stalling. She swept his strong body from head to foot and shook her head. “You have nothing to be ashamed of. Your body is very well made.” His lips pressed together and his nostrils flared. “I’m sorry. What did I say?”
“Nothing.” He pulled his shirt off over his head and draped it over a branch before he sat down to unfasten his boots. “I’m exhausted and hot and grumpy. You did nothing wrong.”
Needing a moment to compose her expression, she moved to one of the bathing pools. The grassy indentations were shallow and wide, allowing the ground to soak up the water before it reached the river. She released one of the baskets and lowered it, retrieving what they would need. Cleansing agents were formulated from a variety of ingredients, creating distinct scents. She chose one popular with the warriors and waited for her reluctant guest.
He undressed with his back to her, bending from the waist as he shed his pants. His back tapered dramatically to lean hips and long muscular legs. His buttocks were sculpted and dusted with a light sprinkling of gold hair. How odd. Most of the Perrlain had little or no body hair.
After raking his burnished hair with his fingers, he slowly turned around. She had never m
et a man more reluctant to reveal his nudity. Most of the men in her tribe strutted and drew attention to their endowment in every way possible.
“I picked out a soap I think you’ll like. If the fragrance does not suit you, there are others we can try.”
With a stiff nod, he crossed the clearing, his stride long and rolling like the powerful jungle cats who prowled the mountains beyond their valley. Everything about him seemed larger and more… Her wandering gaze came to rest on the apex of his thighs and her thoughts scattered. From a nest of wiry gold curls sprang the longest, thickest cock she had ever seen in her life. He was easily as long as Baylott and thicker than Kapali—and he was not yet fully hard!
Swallowing her shock, she turned back to the basket and fiddled with the pots and jars. Were all the men of his tribe… The rest of his body was… Holy Divinity, she had never imagined men grew to such proportions.
His warm hand lightly touched her shoulder. “I noticed I’m quite a bit taller than anyone else in your tribe and I easily outweigh your largest warrior. I suspected the rest of me was—unusual. I’m not shy, Serena. I didn’t want to frighten you.”
“I’m not frightened.” She shook away her discomfort and straightened her shoulders. “Your body is perfectly proportioned as the Deity intended. If my foolishness embarrassed you, I apologize.”
He turned her face until she looked into his eyes. “I’m not embarrassed.”
“Good.” She pulled the carved stopper out of the jar and handed it to him. He was her brother’s guest, a guest of their village. It was her responsibility as Lutton’s sister and as a priestess to make him comfortable. “Do you find this pleasing?”
After inhaling the scent, he passed it back to her. “It’s very nice.”
“All right. Move closer to the vines.” She reached beyond him and raised the small trap door, releasing water into the oblong dispenser. The carved wooden end had been pierced by a multitude of small holes. Rivulets flowed from the holes, showering Matt with tepid water.
“Oh, I expected it to be much hotter. This is nice.”
“We can control the temperature, but most find this a soothing combination.”
He raised his arms and smoothed his hair away from his face. The muscles in his back rippled, drawing her gaze down to his behind. What would those tight ass cheeks feel like beneath her hands as he thrust between her thighs? She had seen women claw welts in their lovers’ flesh in just such a way.
There were no set customs for how a visitor’s bath was to be attended. Some priestesses stayed back, discreetly handing their charge the supplies. Others not only joined the outsider but washed them with their hands and pleasured them with their mouths as part of the bathing ritual.
How would he react if she touched him? “Would you like me to wash your hair?”
“Only if I can wash yours.”
Excitement curled through her belly. Her body hadn’t felt any of these sensations since before her ascension. He didn’t know her shame. He only knew her as Lutton’s sister. Perhaps this was what she needed. Someone untainted by all that had gone before.
“That seems like a fair compromise.” She filled her palm with the amber liquid then set the jar aside. Moving up behind him, she raised her hands to his hair.
“Can you reach me?”
“Barely.” She swayed toward him as she scrubbed her fingers through his thick hair. Her nipples brushed against his back and lather cascaded along his spine, caressing her skin as it passed.
He turned in one smooth motion and pulled her against his chest. Holding her there with one arm, he found the water with the other and shifted his body back under the spray. “That smells wonderful.”
His eyes were closed and his hand swept up and down her back. It wasn’t an embrace really, so why did she find it so stimulating?
“My turn,” he said in a soft, throaty rasp. His chest brushed against her as he bent and retrieved the jar from the surrounding grass. Following her lead, he coated his hands with soap and then worked his fingers through her long strands. “Your hair is incredible. I thought Miranda’s was beautiful until I saw yours.”
“They cut her hair when she was banished. She endured it in stoic silence, but Orillia and I wept.” His fingers stilled against her scalp. “I’m sorry. We aren’t supposed to speak of those events.”
“Why was she banished? She told me that she was no longer welcome among her people, but she never explained why.”
“The women in my family move freely in the gifts of the Deity. Miranda was unusually gifted even for one of my kin. Instead of accepting her calling and entering the Order, as was her destined path, she—”
He placed his fingers against her lips. “You’re reciting what you’ve heard others say. Why do you think Miranda was banished?”
“She refused to follow customs simply because they were customary. ‘That’s the way it has always been’ was never acceptable justification for my sister and the elders couldn’t allow her attitude to influence others.”
“They were afraid of her.”
She nodded. “They still are. Echoes of her discontent ripple to this day.”
“That would please her greatly if she knew.”
“She knows. Orillia has made sure she learns of all her inadvertent triumphs.”
Serena lapsed into silence as he dragged his fingers through her hair, working his way from scalp to tip again and again. How could something so simple feel so…decadent? She closed her eyes and felt the lather slide between the cheeks of her bottom and down between her legs.
His fingers brushed against her back and over her hips. She swayed into him, amazed at how easily their bodies slid together. His knee insinuated itself between her thighs and she gasped.
With the gentlest of tugs, he pulled her head back and sealed his mouth over hers. His other hand cupped her breast and Serena trembled. His lips pressed against hers, his tongue teasing without actually entering her mouth. She touched her tongue tip to his, frustrated by his patience. His mouth opened, inviting her to play. He tasted hot and foreign, exotic and wild.
She pushed to her tiptoes and framed his face with her hands, deepening the kiss and grinding her mound against his thigh. Heat unfurled within her and her nipples tingled.
Searing blue eyes pierced her memory. Malice, lust and hate shattered the sensual spell. With a little whimper, she dragged her mouth from his and twisted to the side.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I didn’t mean to frighten you.” His arm remained around her waist and he pressed against her back. “Relax. Let’s rinse the soap from your hair.” He spread her hair over his arm and let the water saturate its length.
His touch changed. He was gentle yet impersonal. She felt the sweet ache receding and closed her eyes against the loss. Turning back around, she placed her hands on his chest and looked into his eyes.
“I don’t want to be afraid. I can’t allow myself to be afraid.”
“But you are. Fear is seldom willed into submission. It takes time and—”
“I have given it time. I am out of time.” She covered her face with her hands as shame washed over her. “I don’t know what else to do.”
His arms enfolded her and he pressed her cheek against his chest, tucking her head under his chin. “Why must you do anything?”
“If I can’t overcome this fear, I’ll fail my final assessment,” she admitted. Why was she telling this stranger her most shameful secret? Standing in his light embrace felt natural and right.
“Are you certain you want to enter the Order? Maybe your fear stems from something more fundamental. If you remain afraid, you can avoid an unwanted calling.”
She eased back and met his gaze. “Now you sound like Miranda.”
“If you honestly want to conquer this, I’ll help you. But you have to want to face what’s frightening you. No one can do it for you. I can support and guide you, but ultimately you will make the change.”
“Do you un
derstand what’s wrong with me?”
His smile was gentle, his gaze knowing. “I have a pretty good idea. You stare at my body as if you want to devour me, yet one kiss leaves you trembling with fear. I may not be a trained therapist, but I can figure out what that’s about.”
“Are you sure Miranda didn’t send you to me?”
“I think she sent us to each other.”
Chapter Three
“You must transform me!”
Drey Fon stiffened at the command and turned to face Ratauni. Their relationship was symbiotic. She couldn’t access her powers from this dimension without his Wikoli energy, and her demonic essence unleashed abilities in him no ordinary sorcerer could achieve.
“I must do what pleases me and nothing more.” He clasped his hands behind his back and stared boldly into her eyes. “I summoned you, not the other way around.”
“Then send me back,” she snapped, demonic light undulating beneath her delicate features. “I would rather return to my own dimension than serve a fool.”
With a furious snarl, he swung at her. She didn’t even flinch. His hand passed right through her face and his skin instantly blistered. He howled and clasped his hand to his chest, rocking back and forth.
“My existence might be linked with yours, mortal, but I am not your slave. I can sense the Perrlain priestess growing stronger. Why do you hesitate? You cannot penetrate their protection spells. Chaos knows, you’ve tried.”
“Each time I allow you to transform, the Order is given another opportunity to determine the source of my power.”
“So what? They are helpless against you, against us.”
He wished he shared her confidence. If the Order isolated the source of his power, they could combat his actions far more accurately. They knew someone among the Wikoli had developed abilities beyond the reach of ordinary sorcery. But they had yet to identify which of the mystics had strayed from the true path, or in which direction they had wandered. There were seven demonic dimensions, each offering unique abilities and distinct risks. Few mystics found the benefits equal to the dangers.