He must have seen something in her expression. He sighed and released her arms, sliding one hand down to the small of her back and guiding her away from Siraj with a terse, “Don’t move,” to the smirking man reclining on the ground.
Xian could barely hear above the pounding in her ears. Would he refuse to continue on this journey? Worse, would he expose her crime to the council and those within the Temple who looked to her for guidance?
She saw the rope ladder ahead. The ladder that led up to the surface. They were so close. The old ruins sat above them, the Vault mere hours away. So close. Would she never have her answers?
Xian turned to meet Hel’s gaze. “Please, let me—”
Hel’s blazing green eyes silenced her. He took the book from her hands and set it on a small ledge in the rock, safe from the damp ground. He gripped her hips and lifted her high against the ladder, throwing her off balance so that she instinctively gripped the rope above her with her hands.
He moved closer. “Please let you explain? Please let you get yourself killed? Break every law Kroy Wen has without letting me in on what you are planning to do?”
Her new position had her lips even with his, and they were so close, she could feel his breath caressing her cheeks. His voice grew thick and rough as he pressed against her. “You can trust me, my Priestess. You must know that by now.”
Could she? He was a man. Men, she’d long been taught, were ruled by the Sun. Ruled by hot emotions—lust, anger, ego. He was also a Sun Guard, raised in loyalty and faith. More than that—he was Hel. And yes, she trusted him. Isn’t that why she wanted him and no other beside her on her quest?
She studied his face. He was right. She had broken so many Temple laws already. Put the both of them, and now Siraj, in danger because of it. Did she dare, in this isolated darkness, break another?
Her grip tightened on the rope ladder, and she leaned forward. The small space between their lips disappeared. The prickly growth of hair on his face scraped her cheek as she angled her head to kiss him. It was strange, unfamiliar. She had never kissed a man before. It sent shivers of delight throughout her body.
Hel froze against her for an instant, long enough for her to doubt her impulse a thousand times, and then he shuddered. Hard. Groaning, he pulled her hips against him. His lips softened, gentled, opening to taste her.
Oh Goddess. She’d no idea his lips would be so soft, when the rest of him was solid as granite. Silk covered granite. She melted into his embrace, her own mouth opening instinctively as he traced her full lower lip with his tongue.
He tasted like dark cinnamon and agave liquor. Tasted of every dark desire she had in the night. Her tongue slid against his, inspired by the noises of encouragement erupting from his throat. The sensation soaked her sex in instant, overwhelming arousal. What would that tongue feel like against her skin? Her neck? Her breasts?
Hel pulled back. “Priestess. Xian. Wait…”
“No.” She moaned in denial. She didn’t want this moment to end. Not now. Not yet. But she soon realized he had no intention of ending it. He wanted more. He began to untie the side lacings of her traveling robe, unwrapping her slowly, like a treasured gift.
When the fabric was spread apart it revealed her High Priestess robe. Its sheer panel was unable to conceal her peaked nipples, and between her thighs, the damp fabric. He pushed the outer robes down her arms, as far as they could go, and he reached for the ties at her shoulders, the ties that would lower her dress to her waist.
Their harsh, expectant breath filled the silence. When she was finally bared to the waist, Hel took a step back, his jaw working and his face flushed with need.
“You cannot know how long… I have to… I must…”
Xian cried out in surprised pleasure when his head bent to take one aching nipple between his lips. His large hand cupped her heavy breast, lifting it higher as his mouth opened wide, filling his mouth to overflowing with her flesh.
Yes.
His other hand gripped the edge of her skirt and lifted, and as soon as she felt the cooler air on her thighs she wrapped her legs around his waist. His erection was burning her through the fabric of his pants, and her body was angry that the thin, rough cloth stood between them. That anything did. She needed him inside her.
She started to release her grip on the rope, to reach down and tear his laces off if she had to. She was crazed. Frenzied. Alive.
Hel sensed the movement and stopped her, lifting his head from her breast with a menacingly sexy growl. “No, Xian.” He grabbed the dangling lacing from her robe and wrapped them around her wrists in swift, practiced movements. A thrill shot through her even though she desperately wanted to touch him, stroke him.
He pried her clinging thighs off his hips and dropped to his knees. He met her gaze and smiled tightly. “Not that. But I can give you this. I need to give you this.”
Xian swallowed as he placed her legs over his shoulders, giving him a clear, unhindered view of her sex. “So perfect.” His fingers spread the delicate lips apart, and his thumb pressed against her. “Delicate and perfect.” He inhaled deep, his eyelids flickering as he took her scent in.
She watched, fascinated by the sight of this strong warrior at her feet, all his attention focused on her. Her eyes blurred from not blinking. How could she? Hel was burying his face between her legs, his tongue lapping at her arousal, drinking greedily from her swollen, sensitive lips. She’d never felt anything like it. It was as if he were consuming her. Ravenous for her taste.
The rope scraping her back through the robes, the laces restraining her, and Hel’s tongue filling her sex were so forbidden, erotic. Was this what Nitara, what Nitara’s own mother had felt? Why they were willing to risk their lives, everything they were, to have it? To have this feeling. This all-encompassing feeling of being claimed again and again.
And Hel was claiming her. His fingers had joined his tongue, thrusting deep, curling inside her, gathering all she was into him. Glutting himself on her juices.
She arched her neck and caught a glimmer of movement behind Hel.
Siraj.
He held one finger to his lips, smiling mischievously, as if they were two children sharing a secret. She gasped, and Hel groaned, his tongue pressing deeper, harder inside her.
She looked down at Siraj’s body, still healing from his battle wounds. He’d opened the lacings of his pants, revealing a long, hard erection, his own fist wrapped around it as he watched them.
Hel didn’t sense the intruder, too intent on bringing her pleasure. Siraj leaned against the cavern wall, stroking himself as Xian watched. Long, lazy strokes that riveted her gaze. She hadn’t noticed before how attractive his lean, sinuous body was. How sensual.
What was wrong with her? It was Hel’s body she’d fantasized about. Hel kissing her, bringing her to the brink. Yet…feeling Siraj’s gaze on her body, watching him watch them…it only seemed to increase her desire.
Her heels dug into Hel’s back, hips pushing against his mouth and his fingers and tongue picked up a faster rhythm, making her cry out in pleasure, so close to the stars.
Siraj’s pace quickened as well, his face tightening with arousal, his white-knuckled grip on his cock holding Xian spellbound. He snared her gaze with his own, the brown eyes dark, bottomless. He wanted her to watch him. When his orgasm overtook him, Xian moaned, hiding his harsh breath with her own full-throated cries.
He lifted the hand, wet with his own come, and sucked his fingers into his mouth slowly. Wickedly. His eyes flashed as he studied the kneeling Hel once more. Then Siraj was gone, and Xian was consumed in the fires of her own climax. Taken over by it.
Lost.
A part of her mind knew Hel was standing, untying her arms and lowering her to the ground. That he was carefully redoing her robes, his lips, damp with her arousal, kissing her heated forehead with an aching gentleness. She knew, but she couldn’t seem to pull herself together. Couldn’t meet his gaze, or thank him for the pleasure
he’d given.
Falling from such heights in a heartbeat, she berated herself for what she’d done. A few days away from the confines of her safe Temple walls and she’d thrown herself at her Sun Guard and allowed an outsider to observe her sin. Despite High Priestess Ani’s lessons, despite a lifetime of following the destiny she was born to. She’d wanted more. If he hadn’t held back, she would have given herself completely.
Why had he? He was a man. He seemed to want her. Why had he stopped her, kept her from touching him? Perhaps he was more loyal to the Temple than she thought.
Another blessing in disguise from the Goddess. She’d saved Xian from breaking the rules for someone who didn’t want her. Not as much, she was beginning to realize, as she wanted him.
Chapter Five
She was here at last. Her body was still vibrating from her ride on what Siraj called a treader. Hel had been right. It was loud and billowed smoke. But it had taken hours off their journey and after Xian had overcome her fear, she found she’d truly enjoyed the ride. Did other cities have access to this kind of marvel? Why had she not been told? Her mentor was strict and upheld the ways of the Goddess without exception. Could that be the reason Kroy Wen was so isolated? So trapped in the past?
Xian knew Hel was angry. He’d demanded she ride with him on Luna, but she wasn’t ready to be so close to him again. To wrap her arms around him and pretend she was no longer affected, that they could go back to before he touched her. Before she lost control.
He’d wanted the pretence. She could sense it. Once he’d guided her back to an innocently waiting Siraj, Hel had stayed away from her, playing the part of distant Sun Guard. It may have been for the other man’s benefit, because he didn’t know that Siraj had witnessed their passion, participated, but his actions hurt her nonetheless. They made it clear that she’d been right in her fears.
So she’d ridden with Siraj on his treader instead, with Hel keeping pace on Luna behind them. Xian was thankful that Siraj made no comments about all he’d seen. Not that she’d had an easier time touching him. Whatever had awoken within her from that first kiss with Hel seemed to be growing in strength. It hungered.
They had made it through the ruins without running into scavengers or incident. Jagged, oddly formed shards of metal pushed up from the ground, and sun-glass covered the ground, glinting under the moon’s glow like an ocean of light.
The night sky pulsed with colorful clouds moving in a mystic, mournful dance. It was called The Roar. A near constant reminder in the night sky of the pain the Goddess suffered to protect humanity. What She’d lost. On those nights when the sky was clear, full of only stars, Kroy Wen celebrated it as a good omen. A sign of healing. She could have used such a sign tonight.
No matter. She had finally arrived. Safe within the familiar confines of The Vault, with the men waiting outside, giving her the privacy she needed for what came next.
Xian looked around, clasping The Book of Knowledge to her chest. It had come from here. All the wisdom of their ancestors, all they’d needed to remake their world. Ingredients for healing draughts, gardening in harsh environments, meditations on serenity and creating sustainable water and sewage systems…it was all inside this book. It had been bestowed upon the first of the Priestesses by the Goddess.
The room was large, but sharply angled and box-like. The walls, not layered with color and life from the stone, but unnaturally shaped tiles of a single hue. The floor beneath her was littered with a thick kind of ash.
According to the story, The Vault had once been a place of unlimited knowledge. Books had covered the walls from floor to ceiling. Xian could not fathom such a room. The book she held was one of only a handful she knew of, and all of them were the property of the few Temples scattered along the coast. They were sacred. Reading was meant for the Priestess order alone. A sacred law, to protect the rare tomes and the wisdom within them from being misused. To think there had once been so many, and all in one place. It was unbelievable.
And yet… She opened her book and noticed, not for the first time, that each protected page was a different size, each with unique lettering and relating to different topics. It was as though they had not been made at the same time, or by the same person. But hadn’t the Goddess guided the first of their order to create it? Who was she to ask the how and why?
But she did. She questioned everything of late, it seemed. It was why she was here. It was why she’d brought the key. The reason she was about to break a sacred oath to her mentor, one that had been passed down faithfully since The Burning Time.
She set the book down and lifted the chain from around her neck to study the small key. “I vow never to bring this to The Vault without intent. Never to intend without reason. And to be prepared to face the repercussions of the Goddess.”
The wording of the vow did not expressly forbid use of the key, though her predecessor was careful to add her own warning. This was the only key, and the responsibility was a heavy burden. It was one of the few times she’d seen fear in High Priestess Ani’s expression, and it had been enough for Xian.
Until now.
When she’d taken the mantle, learned what it meant to be High Priestess of Kroy Wen, she’d thought she understood. All played their roles for a reason. The castes were there for a reason. Men and women kept separate for a reason. The will of the Goddess. The whim of The Angry Sun. But there had to be more.
She could not shake the feeling that this world was…wrong. That innocents like Nitara and her mother before her should not be considered criminals for feeling compassion. For feeling love.
Wasn’t She the Goddess of love and empathy? How then could She have made these rules? The rules that forced Xian to take a babe away from its weeping mother and plot its course in life before it had the chance to open its eyes, let alone make a choice. The rules that took people away from their communities and drugged them in order to drain them of their life force, then soon after, their life.
And then there was the council. Created to keep balance, to keep peace, it had long since become a vehicle for angry men to proclaim themselves leaders while doing nothing. Nothing but decrying every institution put in place for their safety, protection and quality of life.
Six trips to The Vault since she’d taken her office, and she’d never wavered. Outwardly. Inside, her need for more answers, her need for clarity, continued to grow. Today she would use the key. She only prayed the answers were there, and that the Goddess would forgive her.
Xian knelt in the crumbling pile of dust, marveling anew at the strange circular tins, empty now, but once used to store food, lying upended on the floor. A white chair covered in cracks and dust sat in the corner, a hole in its seat that grew the only plant life for miles. Some strange contraption that reminded her a bit of a piece of Siraj’s treader stood guard in the opposite corner of the room.
It had all been left untouched by the High Priestesses who made their pilgrimage here. Small and large odd trinkets, the meaning of which had been lost to time, peeked out from the disintegrating paper.
Light from her torch in the doorway caught on the black, rusted metal of the box. The box she was looking for. The hair stood up on her arms. It seemed so innocuous. It was hard to believe so many generations had been afraid of it. Yet, she could not deny that she too was trembling as she picked it up and placed it on her lap.
She studied the locking mechanism. The unusually shaped hole matched the key perfectly. She placed it inside, watching it slide into place and held her breath. No lightning struck. She was still here.
It wouldn’t open. She tried to push the key in farther, wiggled it, and something clicked. Sending up a small prayer that she wasn’t making a huge mistake, she lifted the lid.
“Oh my.”
Xian knew her eyes had gone wide with wonder. Inside was a treasure beyond all her imaginings. Covered in the same clear protection as the pages in The Book of Knowledge were several folded pieces of paper. Beneath them, two sma
ll books.
Unfolding the one on the top she gasped. It was large and filled with images and strange symbols. Islands and continents and more oceans and streams, more bodies of water than Xian had ever imagined or seen.
“A map.” The Priestesses had maps of trade and courier routes as well as the tunnel systems, and she knew the Sun Guards had created maps of the eastern half of the Wasteland, in order to plan their raids more efficiently. But this map was different. She wished she understood what it meant. Particularly the large landmass at the very bottom of the map. It had been circled in red with arrows pointing to it. The circle did not appear to be a part of the original map.
Xian folded it carefully, painstakingly, and returned it to the box. She lifted the other slippery page and opened it up. It was full of words and clear images that looked like some of those in The Book of Knowledge. Bold letters drew her eye.
The End is Near? Solar Flares and Earthquakes increase as the Mayan Calendar Enters Final Countdown.
What did that mean? Were they speaking of The Burning Time? Had it been prophesied? Xian narrowed her gaze to read the small print. So many of the words were unfamiliar. But the image of The Angry Sun breathing molten fire in a dark sky was clear enough. These Mayan people had known. They must have been similar to the Crones with their visions. And, at least according to this scribe, very few listened to their warnings. Those few who did were deemed insane by their fellow citizens.
She placed that back inside the box as well, a surge of excitement making her dizzy as she reached for the small books. Books no one had seen or touched in generations. They were in a clear sealed bag. One cover was simple brown, a single multi-petaled flower in the center. One soft with age, the tops of several pages folded down, as though to be remembered for later.
She studied the sealed section of the bag. There was no ribbon or lacing binding it together. No melted wax. She tugged lightly on the two ends and it opened with several small clicking sounds. How amazing.
Wasteland: The Priestess Page 4