by Eden Bradley
He lay on the hard-packed earthen floor for a long time, willing his mind to find some answer, some way out. But he came up with nothing.
Finally, too weary to think, he whispered a prayer to the Mighty El for strength and to the Goddess Ela for hope, and slept.
Chapter Three
Nitara’s body was still humming with climax, her third one of the night. She’d come to Akaash’s cell in the Sanctuary tonight, determined to make him speak to her, to torture him with her own pleasure until he could no longer help himself. But she had failed.
He had not said one word to her for fifteen days. She had visited him once each day, and once each night, as was the rule, sometimes spending several hours there, in the small space on the other side of the iron bars. She had brought herself to climax after climax in front of him, pleasuring her body in every way she knew how. His constant erection, his tense muscles, his glittering gaze and flushed face, had let her know he wanted her as much as he ever had. But other than the occasional grunt or groan, he remained mute.
He was a stubborn man. And a strong one. His strength—and his stubborn silence—made her desire him even more.
Her desire was like some rare fuel, feeding her and feeding her, yet leaving her always hungry. Even after coming three times, she craved his touch. And now, she craved even the sound of his voice—it had been too long denied her.
Her legs were shaking, her body weak, lambent. His dark gaze was on her as she lay back on the pillows. She had come to know the bronze light within the brown depth of his gaze, especially when he was aroused or angry.
“You will not speak to me, Akaash?” She pushed her hair from her face, the long, silky strands sticking to her damp cheek. “I have given you my pleasure, over and over. That is all I have to give. Will you not indulge me?”
He stared at her, his jaw tightening. But he didn’t look away.
He never did. No matter how silent, he always watched her.
She sighed. “I understand your anger at being here. How this must injure your pride—”
“You think this is about pride?” he roared, startling her.
She sat upright. “Ah, you speak to me at last.”
“This is not some battle you’ve won. Don’t look so damn proud of yourself. I speak now because I choose to.”
She couldn’t help the smile on her face. “I am glad you choose to.”
“Why?”
“What do you mean?”
“Why do you care if I speak to you or not? I’m your prisoner. Your victim. Why do you care one way or another what I do or say?”
“I don’t know,” she told him honestly. She leaned forward, toward the bars that separated them. His face was stormy with rage, but there was real curiosity in his eyes. “I only know that I do care.”
His features softened the tiniest bit. “You shouldn’t. There are rumors about what goes on in your temple. What happens to the men of the Wanderers who are captured and brought here. Who are never seen again. I can imagine it’s not a good idea for a breeder girl to become attached to one of us.”
“I am not attached.”
“No?”
He looked at her, one dark brow raised. She felt…flustered, her cheeks heating. She picked up her robe and pulled it around her shoulders.
“I’m only curious about you,” she said. It was partly true. The other part of the truth was that she wanted more than this build of sexual tension, his forbidden touch. But she didn’t know what, exactly.
“What do you want to know?”
“Will you truly tell me, if I ask?”
“That depends on what you ask.”
She nodded, thinking. “I know little of your people. We’re kept separate from the rest of society, we Breeders. We hear things…from the priestesses, when they talk among themselves and think we aren’t listening. Sometimes from the eunuch guards who watch over us. But I’ve never known what’s true and what is only imagined. We’re told that your people are wild. Primitives who live in the Wasteland like animals.”
“Animals don’t have speech.”
“No. But I didn’t expect you to speak this way.”
“What way?”
“The way we of the Temple do.”
“Did you expect us to be covered in fur and have tails?”
“Of course not!”
“I’m teasing you, girl.”
She swore a grin tilted the corner of his lush mouth.
“I’m not a girl. I am a woman.”
“Yes, I’ve seen that very clearly for myself.”
“Why do you address me with such disdain, Wanderer?”
“Can you blame me?”
Her cheeks were going hot. “You should be overcome with desire for me.”
“Ah, I am. You’ve seen my raging cock.” He sat up on his heels, the muscles of his stomach flexing as he moved, golden skin over solid iron, his large hands gripping the chains that held him. “It thirsts for you, Nitara. Make no mistake. But maybe the reason you expect me to be some raving animal is because the men who are brought here are drugged beyond all reason.” His tone was bitter again.
“But you are not.”
“No. What are the drugs made of? Do you know the names?”
“Valerian and datura. Mandrake. Caltrop. Herbs, to quiet you, to stimulate you.”
“Valerian I know. I’ve tried it to help me sleep when I was injured in the hunt. It’s useless for me. Datura we use in our Manhood rituals. We have for generations. It’s a strong hallucinogen, but works less and less well, in recent years. My people are becoming immune to its effects.”
“Why are you telling me these things?”
His gaze went hard, his dark eyes seeming to look through her.
“Will you run and tell your priestesses, Nitara? Will you give them this information to use against the people of the clans?”
Her heart was a small hammer in her chest. She whispered, “No.”
“I thank you for that.”
He smiled then, a real smile, and her body seemed to light from within. His teeth were white, strong. His face was beautiful, all hard, fine planes, high cheekbones and that soft, lush mouth…
She was curious about him, that much was true. More now than ever. He was becoming more and more of a person to her. She knew it was dangerous. But she couldn’t stop herself.
“I am told you have your own gods,” she said. “That you worship some deity other than our Goddess.”
“Yes. The God El and the Goddess Ela. God of fall and winter and Goddess of spring and summer. They’re powerful. Fierce, as our people are. Wrathful and punishing.”
“Even your Goddess?”
“Is your goddess not a punishing goddess?”
“She is called the Loving Moon. The female spirit is ever nurturing, and those of us who live within the Temple aspire to her loving nature. Our God is the Angry Sun. We live in fear of the Nameless God, who razed the Earth in the Burning Time. But we love the Goddess. You cannot worship what you do not love.”
“Females cannot, in your view, be vengeful? Your goddess is not vengeful?”
“She is all love,” Nitara said, then thought of her mother, her brother. “I…the Great Goddess does punish those who work against Her.” She twisted a strand of her long hair between her fingers. “It is Her right. Her choice, made in Her divine wisdom. She has Her reasons, and we must not question. We’re only human, Her servants.”
“And yet you look sad.”
Nitara shook her head, pulled her robe tighter around her.
“What does a breeder girl, who lives, pampered and protected, have to be sad about?”
There was a bitter edge to his voice once more. Resentment.
“What do you know of my existence?”
“I know it’s far easier than my own. But one I would never trade for.”
“Nor should you. I live in ease, it’s true. I’m fed and sheltered, protected from the dangers of the cities and the Wastelan
d. Yet I am not allowed outside the walls of the Temple, nor will I ever be. I know enough to understand that there is a world out there which I will never see. I’m caged as much as you are at this moment.”
“I’m surprised to hear you say such things.”
“So am I.”
She felt her eyes blazing. With fury. With tears. Her mind was a whirl of confusion.
“I’m sorry, Nitara.” His voice was soft. “The world is a terrible but beautiful place. It shouldn’t be denied anyone.”
She hung her head. “But it is being denied you now. Because the Temple holds you here for the purposes of our Goddess.”
“Yes.”
When she looked up he was watching her once more, but his expression was softer than she had ever seen it.
“Akaash. I’m sorry.”
His dark brows raised. “You surprise me again, girl.”
“I surprise myself. I did not expect…”
“What didn’t you expect?”
“To…feel for you.”
“Are your people so cold, then? Do they not love?”
“I love my sister, Leilin, and my brother, Nikkan. I love the High Priestess Xian, who has trained me in the ways of sensuality. I love my Sister Breeders. And I love the Great Goddess, of course.”
“There’s another kind of love,” he said quietly.
She wasn’t certain of what he meant, but his tone compelled her. She approached the cage, laying her palms flat against the bars. She had been this close to him only once. That first time, when she had touched her fingers to his lips. Now she took a few moments to really look at him, taking in the hard swell of muscle in his arms, his bare chest. The dark stubble that had grown into a short beard in the last weeks. His beautiful mouth. His dark eyes watching her, wary and filled with desire and something else she didn’t understand.
“Tell me,” she said. “Tell me about love.”
He glanced away for several moments, and she saw his jaw clench. When he looked back to her, his eyes were shadowed.
“I have a bonded lover. His name is Dhatri. He’s strong and brave. Beautiful. Wise beyond his years. He’s our fiercest warrior, a trainer of our young in weapons and the hunt. His love is fierce, powerful. He joined our clan, the Mutairi, when we were both sixteen. We’ve been together ever since. He wears the mark of our clan on his arm, as I do. He is one of us. He is…part of me.”
“It sounds wonderful.”
“It is until you’re parted from those you love.”
She saw grief on his face, and her heart melted. She wanted to comfort him, to put her arms around him. And she wanted more. She didn’t know what her need was, other than to be close to him. But any real sex was forbidden until the day of Sacrifice. Even this conversation would be forbidden. Knowing that left her feeling strangely bereft.
“I understand your pain.”
“Do you?”
She nodded. “I have been parted from my mother since the age of six.”
“Did she die?”
“She was caught lying with her Sun Guard. Unconsecrated sex is forbidden for a priestess. She was sent away, into the Wasteland. I don’t even know if she survived.”
“Then you have some idea of my loss.”
“Yes.”
She wrapped her fingers around the bars, the iron cool beneath her palms.
He lifted one hand as though to reach for her, but the chains allowed him only a few inches of movement. “I’m sorry for yours, Nitara.”
She nodded, emotion a hard knot in her chest. What was happening to her?
“Akaash, I must go.”
He shrugged, but she could see emotion on his face. Was she only imagining that some of it was for her?
She knew it shouldn’t matter. He was an instrument, as Leilin had said, as everyone was an instrument of the Goddess. His purpose was to aid in the loss—the gift—of her virginity. To hopefully impregnate her. To aid in her sacred duty to carry on the human race. Her duty should be her only desire. But her desire had shifted, had become her own.
She was feeling something for this man.
Akaash.
She understood that to feel anything beyond sexual need was a sacrilege so profane, she could not imagine it had ever happened. She could not imagine what the Goddess’s punishment might be.
Clear your mind. Purify your heart.
Yes. She must go to the altar in her room and pray to be cleansed of these impure thoughts.
He was watching her again, as if he could see the thoughts churning in her mind, his brows drawn together.
“Nitara—”
She took a step back. Tears stung her eyes. “I must go…”
She turned and ran out the door.
Akaash’s chest ached as much as his swollen cock. What in El’s name was he thinking?
This girl was part of this place, these people who justified kidnapping and using his people for their own ends. He was her victim as much as he was the temple’s. And yet, he found himself feeling…sympathy for her.
Ridiculous.
He glanced down at his cock, straining against the loincloth.
That, too, was ridiculous. He would never feel the touch of this girl, would never sink into her lovely flesh, other than just before his death. Still, he craved that more than anything.
Maybe even more than his escape.
He thought of Dhatri, his dark, beautiful skin, the warmth of his flesh. His cock, large and full, thrusting into him…
He may never touch him again. Never struggle against the strength of his lover, their coming together a pure, animal fucking, full of lust and the rage of a warrior. Intense. Powerful. A battle they both won, in the end.
He would win nothing here.
He must escape. Forget Nitara. Forget her sad story, her lush body that tempted him beyond anything he had ever imagined.
If only his cock would let him forget. But it throbbed and ached, even as he fell into exhausted sleep.
He dreamed he was lying beneath a canopy of stars, glimmering silver in the night sky. She was in his arms, her skin the softest thing he’d ever felt in his life.
She was naked. So was he. His cock was hard, pulsing with life and need. She turned to him, raised her face to his, and he took her mouth, hungry for it. Hungry for her. Ravenous.
He pressed his cock against the softness of her belly, and she reached down and took it in her small hand.
Oh, yes…
He wanted to fuck her. Needed to.
He turned her onto her back. She spread her thighs for him and he settled his body between them. The tip of his cock nestled at her opening, and she was wet, ready for him.
He pushed in, her cunt enclosing him like a fist, tight and hot.
Pleasure surged through him, as brilliant as the stars. His sight dimmed, went dark. He was going to come…
He groaned, coming awake instead.
Damn it!
Nitara.
He needed to have her. Needed to.
Damn this place. Damn this girl. Damn his own body.
Nitara.
His fondest wish. His worst nightmare.
It was morning. Nitara stood on the small terrace on the edge of the mountain, overlooking the City of Kroy Wen, the seemingly endless maze of adobe structures punctuating the flat, dusty earth. The terrace was, by custom, curtained, keeping the Breeders out of sight of the citizens. But the girls often peeked through, looking at the city, at the men who walked or rode the rare horses in and out of the tall gates.
Nitara had often been curious as to what the city looked like up close, what went on there. She’d heard talk of the simple matters of life, knew the men lived in the sprawling adobe buildings, that they slept there, had places where they went to eat, to trade: weapons, furs, meat and fish. But she couldn’t begin to comprehend what else went on there, what their lives were like. All she had was this tiny glimpse of them walking, riding, fighting.
The fighting, which often ended
in injury or death, was the most interesting. There was nothing like it within the Temple. Except for the blood shed during a Sacrifice, but that was a sacred ritual.
Was it really any different?
She felt momentarily stunned. Then immediately remorseful. She had spent far too much time questioning the ways of the Goddess recently.
Akaash had only made that worse, raising questions and doubts in her mind. Making her yearn for things she could never have.
He had talked to her of love. A kind of love that seemed alien to her, strange. Utterly desirable.
Especially when she thought of him.
Akaash.
She must stop thinking of him this way, in any way beyond physical desire.
She raised her gaze to the hot yellow sky. Clouds hung heavy in the air. There were rumors of rain, which was rare. But because something was rare didn’t mean it could never happen.
She wanted to know more about love. She had no one but Akaash to ask.
It was time to go to him. She wanted to. But she was afraid. Afraid of what he made her think, made her feel. But she couldn’t stay away.
She made her way down and down, into the bowels of the Temple, to the dark and womb-like Sanctuary. She paused outside the door of the chamber, her pulse a heavy thud in her temples, her sex.
She had to see him. Talk to him. But she must learn to steel herself against her own traitorous thoughts.
He was sitting on the bare floor, as usual, his strong arms held by the chains. His golden skin and dark hair were damp, letting her know the guards had been there this morning, bathing him. She could see tiny droplets of water beaded on the tips of the long, narrow braids in his dark hair, shimmering in the torchlight. She didn’t know why this touched her. Perhaps because it made him seem human to her—the need to be bathed. Or perhaps it was simply the small sensual thrill at the sight of his wet skin.
She wanted to reach out and touch him, to rub the water into his flesh…
“Nitara. Good morning. Or good evening, I don’t know which.”
She sighed. “You are not supposed to.”
“Yes, I know.”
He sounded resigned today. Almost defeated. She stepped closer to the cage.
“You are not yourself today, Akaash.”