Xian slid her palm across the beautiful horse’s flank to soothe the creature’s nerves. Or her own. In the silence she’d been hearing strange rustling sounds, unnatural noises that had sent her imagination into overdrive. The stories of what survived beneath the surface along with what remained of humanity were tales told to terrorize young Priestesses into avoiding the tunnels. The Crones had survived well enough, but as High Priestess, Xian knew that part of their education included weapons training with the eunuchs. It was believed to help focus the mind, but Xian could see now how it might also protect them should the need arise.
“This is ludicrous.” She took the small torch light he’d left her and started off in the same direction he had. There was flora enough beside their camp to serve them, and any other reasons for his absence should have been long taken care of.
A light ahead followed by a splashing noise slowed her steps. Was he bathing? Why hadn’t he told her? Why had her Sun Guard left her unprotected for something like that? Oddly, Xian didn’t feel offense or anger, just…intense curiosity. She slid her torch into a crevice in the wall and moved closer, swallowing the gasp that pushed against her lips at her first good look at him.
Great Goddess, he was stunning. Naked men were not unknown to her. She’d seen Wanderers prepared for Sacrifice, overseen the lottery to ensure the safety of her Priestesses and Breeders. But to her, all paled in comparison to Hel beneath a fall of water.
His body rippled with coiled power. His wet hair fell in heavy curls to his shoulders, wide back flexing in time with the rhythmic movements of his hands as he washed. Her gaze followed the line of his body as it tapered sharply into his narrow waist. He had a strange curving scar climbing his back, disappearing beneath his hairline, and a symbol for the sun on his shoulder, the mark of the Sun Guard. She barely had time to study it before he turned slightly, and she lost all ability to reason.
He wasn’t washing. He was pleasuring himself, his fist wrapped tight around a thick and impressive erection that made her thighs tingle. Flushed with blood and desire, and slick with water, his cock fascinated her. Her mouth dried, and she bit her lip, wondering if it would be hot to the touch, wondering how it would taste.
Though she had never seen a man pleasuring himself without another man or woman, the men of Kroy Wen did not believe in self-denial. There was no shame in passion. It was the way of the Goddess, how she soothed her savage consort. It was the way of women, and how they soothed the men. Xian wished to soothe Hel’s passion, but it was not to be. Not for her. But even knowing that, she couldn’t make herself leave.
His hips rocked in time to the slide of his grip on his cock. Xian trembled, and felt her own hand slide down her belly through her robes, toward her achingly empty sex. She glanced up at his face, at the look of agonized pleasure, the jaw clenched with need, and she pressed her palm between her legs.
What would it feel like, to have him inside her? Not cold, like the glass and clay phalluses in the temple. Nor soft like her own hands, or the hands of those she instructed. His cock would fill her with heat, burn her as surely as the sun. And she would revel in the flames as he wrapped his strength around her and took her against the cold tunnel wall.
Desire was a living thing within her. The motions of his body, his beautifully masculine face, making her blood pound, her body shudder as she came closer and closer to the edge. The cloth of her robes grew damp with her arousal as her fingers circled the sensitive nub faster, harder. Matching his rhythm.
She had never felt this kind of intensity. To her, pleasure had always been a warm glow, a sensual, clear stream that eased her. Healthy and good. Of the Goddess. This was madness. Dangerous. This was temptation.
His free hand curled around the rock beside his head and his strokes grew more powerful. The tip of his cock pearled with arousal, and his back arched as though he were in pain. The most addicting kind of pain.
“Xian. Oh, Xian.”
He called her name, and her gaze flew back to his face. His eyes were closed tight as he came, with her name on his lips. Had she been in his fantasy the way he’d been in hers? The idea sent her flying into her own release, blood filling her mouth where she’d bitten her cheek to hold in her cries.
“I thought you were sent from the stars to save me, but now I see you’re just as real as I am. Even better. I admit I wanted a good fuck before I died.”
The deep, rasping voice was followed by large hands, one squeezing her breast, one covering her hand between her legs.
Xian screamed and tried to throw him off. She felt his hands relax, as if he was about to let her go willingly…and then he was flying. She whirled in time to see a naked Hel straddle the stranger’s chest, sharp dagger raised above his arm.
“Hel, stop!” Her words froze him before he could bring the weapon down.
The man opened his brown eyes and wrinkled his brow. “Cock, huh? Well, it wasn’t my first choice, but how many options does a dying man get?” His lashes fluttered, head dropping to the ground with a loud thud as he passed out.
He wasn’t dressed like a citizen of Kroy Wen, but it was impossible to tell, since most of him was covered in blood. “We have to get him cleaned up, see where his injury originates.”
“Xia—High Priestess, please.” Hel spoke through clenched teeth. “This man molested you, would have done worse if he’d had the strength. That is an offense punishable by death. Do not stay my hand, let me be done with him.”
Xian was shaking, her adrenaline high, but she was determined. “He will not die by my word. He was obviously out of his head with his wounds. Help me get him undressed and into the water.”
Hel stood and looked down at her body. She followed his gaze, cringing when she saw the bloody handprint on the fabric that strained across her breast. “He touched you as though you were a Rose, a whore. As though he had the right.”
Xian stared at Hel’s nipples, entranced by the single bead of water that clung tenaciously to the hard tip. She licked her lips. “It was not his fault. To him I was just a woman, nothing more.”
He was silent for so long that Xian lifted her lashes, only to gasp when her gaze clashed with intense, malachite eyes. She could see the anger there, the frustration…the desire. She was breathless with the power of his attention turned on her.
“High Priestess, no one who has ever met you has any doubt of your gender. Or your beauty. But no man, regardless of class or culture, should be allowed to touch a woman without permission.”
He thought she was beautiful. And he was naked. “You should get him cleaned off. I’ll find the necessary moss and herbs to see to his wounds.”
He hefted the man over his shoulder. “Do not leave my line of sight. Anything you can’t find around here we can gather on the way back to Luna and our camp. I’m not sure why you left in the first place, though I’m glad I was nearby when he showed up.”
She turned before he could see the heat filling her cheeks. Would he put it together? Would he realize that she’d been watching him touch himself? That she’d heard him say her name?
Bending beside the stream, she listened to Hel struggle with the limp man who’d touched her. No man had ever touched her before. Not like that. It was disconcerting. Goddess forgive her, but all she could think about was how much she wished it was Hel who’d touched her.
What was wrong with her? This was not why she’d come on this journey. Clarity. Answers. A reason for the doubts that had been growing in her mind for years, that had finally overwhelmed her after the loss of Nitara. She needed understanding. What she didn’t need was to throw away everything she’d been taught, everything she knew, in order to satisfy her selfish urges—urges that were admittedly getting harder to ignore with each moment spent alone with Hel.
Was the stranger a sign from the Goddess? Caring for an injured man would indeed be a barrier to further intimacy with her Sun Guard. For some reason, she found no comfort in that thought.
Hel was angry.
At fate, at the interloper and at Xian. He sat, a stoic sentinel at the edge of the fire as he watched her tend to the unconscious man. She was wiping down his body, cooling the fever that had appeared as soon as they’d returned to camp. Touching him, this man who had arrived out of nowhere, in the Garden of the Moon, a path kept secret and sacred for years. He was obviously on the run. The wounds on his body were made by a jagged weapon, and the broken skin and bruising on his knuckles told Hel it wasn’t a one-sided fight. Were his attackers nearby? What had he done to deserve this kind of punishment?
He’d checked out his body as he’d cleaned him. The man had no markings on the back of his neck, so he wasn’t born to the Wanderers. In fact he had no particular markings to speak of. Nothing to identify him to city, job, or people. He was, in short, an anomaly. A dangerous thing, when Hel traveled alone with Xian.
But his worries weren’t completely about protecting his High Priestess. Watching Xian touch another man’s bare skin, even one who was apparently unconscious, was driving him mad.
She had tended to the wounded before, with those Priestesses schooled in the healing arts. But, standing guard outside and watching were two entirely different things.
He couldn’t hold his tongue. “Your food grows cold. You won’t be able to care for anyone if you do not take care of yourself.”
She pushed her hair back with a tired sigh. “You are right, as usual. The Goddess can do more for him now than I can. That and rest.”
Hel clenched his hands into fists on his thighs as she came to sit beside him, close enough to touch. The smell of her. Sage and another scent that was spicy, intoxicating. He had to do something to take his mind off how intoxicating. But there was no way he was going to leave her alone. Not with that man.
“High Priestess, may I ask you a personal question?” He watched her look up in surprise, their eyes locking again. He didn’t look away, and she didn’t tell him to. “Why have you not asked me about the escape of the Sacrifice?”
She swallowed the bite of food she’d just taken, choking a bit until he handed her some agave juice. He could see she hadn’t been expecting that, but he had to know.
Instead of answering, she asked him a question in return. “Do you recall the incident when the Priestess was discovered with a Sun Guard in the city? The banishment that followed?”
Now it was Hel’s turn to be surprised. “That was a long time ago. I had nothing to do—”
“No, no,” she interrupted him. “I wasn’t suggesting you did. You must have been twelve then. I was merely ten. The Priestess was Nitara’s mother.” She broke eye contact and leaned her head back against the cavern wall. The position gave him the freedom to study the perfection of her features in the firelight, and wonder what she would do should he remove her veil.
“My mentor, High Priestess Ani, turned it into a lesson to be taught to all Priestesses, all Breeders. The pressure on Nitara, on Nikkan and Leilin was extreme.” Xian sighed. “It is no secret that I favored Nitara above the others. Her innocence. Her inquisitive mind. Much was expected, from the both of us, so we understood each other. She was more than a pupil. She was my friend. Is my friend. A friend I don’t want turned into another tale of immorality.”
Her voice grew raspy with emotion, and Hel let out a low curse. “I am sorry, my Priestess. I thought it was what you wanted.”
She placed her hand on his arm. “You thought I wanted…?” She was silent for several long moments, just studying his features, as if she were seeing him for the first time. “May I ask you a personal question, Hel?”
“Of course.”
“Why did you never enter the lottery?”
Hel swallowed. Damn. One question he didn’t want to answer. Not now. “How do you know I haven’t?”
“I know what goes on in my Temple, Hel. And I know that those in charge of gathering names often bemoan the fact that the most handsome and esteemed Sun Guard in Kroy Wen refuses to share his exceptional genes.”
She blushed and his lips curved upward. “Exceptional?”
Her startling violet gaze narrowed on him. “Do not change the subject. Why?”
He shifted, uncomfortable and more aroused than he should be. What man could fault him? The woman he desired above all things was asking about his sexual activities. “I am the Sun Guard of the High Priestess. You are above reproach, and I must be as well. Which means those within the Temple are safe from my attentions.”
“You know there is no judgment in passion, only joy. All men are encouraged to help replenish the population, regardless of station. You should not feel restrained by your office. By me.” She hesitated, biting her lower lip. “Those within the Temple? But not out?”
He saw the look on her face, and chuckled. “When a Sun Guard is on leave he is allowed to visit The Dusty Rose. I do enjoy the curves of a woman, if that is your question.”
She leaned closer, watching his lips move as he spoke, and his cock grew painfully hard. Did she know what she was doing, looking at him like that? What she was asking for? His earlier need for release was nothing compared to this compulsion, this craving. He had to kiss her, touch her, damn the consequences.
A male voice, groggy with sleep broke through the heated tension. “That is too bad, Sun Guard. I was hoping you might want to cuddle.”
Chapter Four
His name was Siraj. He was the most unusual, outspoken man Xian had ever met. It had taken an extra day to arrive at the tunnel’s end because of his injuries, and they’d stopped to have a meal until moonrise, safe from the heat of the day.
The stranger made the time pass quickly. His fever had broken early that morning, and he was healing rapidly, though obviously still in pain. He took it in stride though, and Goddess knew there was nothing wrong with his voice.
He’d spent the last day telling stories, impossible tales of adventure and feats of daring. The things he knew. He knew she was a Priestess, knew about Kroy Wen, but he insisted he wasn’t from there, nor did he care to go. He spoke of traveling with the traders, raiding island ruins with pirates…even spoke of the Wanderers as though he knew them.
It was obvious Hel doubted the truth of his words. “The Wanderer clans would never allow an outsider into The Rites of Spring. It’s sacred to them. Private.”
Siraj flicked his long, mahogany braid over his shoulder, his brown eyes twinkling. “They would if one of the clan leaders personally invited him in return for saving the life of his first born.” He shrugged. “However, merely observing a sexual feast left me rather…hungry… You would be as well if you’d seen that kabu temptress. I believe my host told me her name was Kadira. Beautiful dark hair, and that body…” He shivered, winking at Xian. “But, it was obvious she was already spoken for, and I decided to leave before I was gutted by a possessive warrior. I did get some fuel for my treader while I was there. Some of those Wanderers are very handy to have around. I’m sure you know what I’m talking about, right, Sun Guard?”
“Fuel? Treader?” Xian looked at Hel, confused. Her mind was full of the images he’d described. Wanderers, rituals, pirate islands. It sounded dangerous. Exciting.
Hel glared at Siraj before lowering his head to Xian. “The Sun Guards have often shared tales around the campfires of the increasingly elaborate metal contraptions made by some of the more inventive Wanderers. Fast as the swiftest horse, loud and terrible and billowing smoke. They can move higher into the mountains this way, through terrain that would be near impossible on foot and difficult on a steed. We have learned it’s something to avoid, and the Fathers have forbidden traders from selling certain…items…in our city that would arouse fears. Those autos, like his treader, included. The citizens are already intimidated by the Wanderers’ strength. It would only worsen if they knew of their intelligence.”
Siraj grimaced. “Of course. Who needs progress? Not me.”
Something, a memory flashed in Xian’s mind, and without thinking, she stood and rummaged through her travel
pack. She pulled out the large book and sifted through the pages until she found what she was looking for, trying to ignore the sharp inhalation and swearing filling the large cavern behind her.
There it was. In the very back, the page yellowed with age even inside the protective covering. Machines. A faded image with large black wheels, like the wheels of a cart, only thicker and not made of metal.
The handwritten notes from one of the former High Priestesses told of the machines that had been saved below ground with the foresight of the Goddess. Those that worked on heated water and pulled power from the sun.
They had been used to build the Temples and brothels carved into the sides of the mountain, by command of the Goddess, before they fell into disrepair. With no one knowing how to fix them, they were made into sculptures or used to create much-needed tools for the citizens. And the Wanderers had these? Had they found them, or found the blueprints to build them? And how had she not known?
“Why did no one inform me?”
Hel was standing beside her, his jaw grinding as he hid the book from Siraj with his body. “It has long been a silent agreement between the Fathers and the High Priestess. The less known about the origin of the Sacrifice, the better. To prevent panic in the city. Apprehension amongst the order.” Hel lowered his voice. “What possessed you? No High Priestess has ever removed The Book of Knowledge from the Temple. It is too precious. Too valuable.”
She took a step back, intimidated by the censure in his tone. “I do not answer to you, Sun Guard. I have my reasons.”
Hel gripped her shoulders, and she gasped, burned by the heat of his touch. “You answer to me when it comes to your safety. I gave a blood oath to protect you with my life. An oath you seem to be doing everything in your power to make more difficult. It is a crime to remove this from the Temple. For anyone.”
She was trembling. In part from fear that he was not as loyal as she’d first believed, in part from the need coiling in her belly at his touch. She was going insane, Goddess help her. Hel had to understand.
Wasteland: The Priestess Page 3