by Jayne Faith
Spinning on him, I shifted my weight to one hip and planted a hand on the side of my waist. “What do you want?”
He flinched at my abrupt turn. Rubbing the back of his neck with one hand, he flicked a glance at the doorway, then leaned toward me and tried on a contrite look that I didn’t quite buy. “Maya, I feel bad, truly awful, about what happened between us. Especially now that you’re—”
“You betrayed me, Court,” I cut him off. “It wasn’t something that happened between us. It was you—only you—who lied to me and snuck around behind my back with Farrah and who knows how many others.”
The tip of his tongue passed over his lips and his mouth pursed for a moment, bringing out his dimple. Oh, that dimple. How many times had it undone me up there in the canopy of the orchards?
“You’re right, of course,” he said with unconvincing regret. “But considering everything you’re facing, I just, well, I couldn’t leave things that way. I don’t want you to think . . . badly . . . of me.” It seemed to pain him to say even that, and he hadn’t yet come within ten yards of an actual apology.
“Considering everything you’ve done, what exactly should I think of you?”
“I’m not a bad guy!” he exclaimed, as he held up his arms and an exasperated look replaced any pretense of remorse.
“No, you’re a real peach,” I said. I was about to leave Earthenfell forever, and all Court cared about was that I didn’t leave thinking ill of him. I narrowed my eyes and lowered my voice. “You know, I meant to spike your brew with cobalt. Maybe Farrah’s too. But now I realize that neither of you are worth the tiny effort it would require. You aren’t a man. You’re a self-indulgent child that no woman will ever be able to depend on.”
His face clouded, but then he gave me a tentative raise of his brows. “So, uh, you don’t want to meet up later?”
With an exasperated hiss of breath through my clenched teeth, I pushed past him and strode back into the pub, grabbed Rand’s hand, and pulled him outside.
My cheeks burned, but not so much due to anger at Court as irritation with myself. How could I have been such an enormous fool over such an insubstantial person? I was glad, actually, that I had seen Court for what he truly was before I had to leave. Had I gone to Calisto thinking that he was some kind of fairy tale prince, I would have pined for him and pitied myself forever for the loss of the life I had dreamed of having with him.
A block or so away from the pub, I slowed to a normal strolling pace. My heart was still racing from the adrenaline of the confrontation. I let out a slow breath and then looked up at Rand and tried to relax my face into a smile, though I knew it was too dark for him to clearly see my expression. “I apologize. I imagine that was a bit awkward for you.”
He waved a hand back and forth a couple of times, as if swatting at a gnat. “Don’t give it a second thought. I think it was good that you got the opportunity to say, well, whatever was on your mind.”
I gave a short mirthless laugh. “I suppose that’s a good way to see it.” I paused, debating about whether to make a little confession, and then decided that I had nothing to lose. “I’d actually planned on spiking his brew with cobalt tonight. Before . . . before the Selection, anyway.”
He chuckled, and it made me smile in earnest. “Do you still want to do it?” he asked, in all seriousness.
I shook my head. “I don’t want to waste any more time on Court.”
Rand curled his fingers tighter around mine in response.
We were skirting around mid-town, past a row of dark shops.
“What would you like to do?” Rand said.
I swallowed and licked my dry lips. “Actually, I need to speak to you about something. There’s the matter of my sister . . .” I trailed off, suddenly too choked up to continue.
I let go of Rand’s hand and my shoes softly scuffed to a halt. I closed my eyes and pressed my fingertips over my eyelids, trying to squeeze back the flood of tears that threatened to burst forth.
“Of course I will collect for Lana,” he said.
And then my face was against Rand’s chest, and his arms encircled my back. He stroked my hair as the dam broke, and I soaked his shirt with tears. In between my shuddering sobs, I heard the sound of his soothing murmurs.
When my tears subsided, I sniffed sharply and swept my fingers across my wet cheeks. I looked up at him. “I can never thank you enough, Rand.”
One of his arms still held me around the waist, and the other had moved from the back of my head to my cheek. I tipped my face up to his, and as if we had the same thought at the same time, we leaned toward each other and our lips met.
Rand’s mouth was warm and sensuous against mine, and an unexpected bolt of desire shot through me.
When we parted for a breath, I whispered his name. He responded by kissing me with more force, his fingers moving from my cheek to tangle into my hair. I locked my arms around his neck and rose to my tiptoes.
I could feel my pulse pounding in my lips, behind my eyes, and down my inner thighs. I pressed into him, and he made a low hum of appreciation against my lips.
My mind spun wildly—where could we go, somewhere private?
I pulled back and opened my mouth with the intention of telling him I wanted to go somewhere we could be alone. The moment had arrived. The energy between us was building, and I had the perfect chance to give myself to him as I’d planned. But something stopped me, and instead of carrying through with it, I just stared at him mutely.
I realized that the main reason I’d wanted to lose my virginity was to get back at Court. But what would it really accomplish? It had been my choice to wait with Court. Knowing there was no future with him, I needed to do what was right for me. Me alone. Maya without Court.
A fiery burst of light overhead made us both look up. We watched as debris from the battles over Earthenfell streaked through the atmosphere like comets. It was a thrilling and terrifying display.
“Praise the overlords, praise Lord Toric,” we said in unison three times.
I took it as confirmation from the universe that I was right to wait, to not give myself to a man in the haphazard way that I’d intended.
I looked into Rand’s eyes. “Let’s find music. A place to dance until our feet can’t hold us up any longer.”
His face broke out into a grin, and he grabbed my hand. We found the noisiest part of mid-town, where there was a seven-piece band playing rollicking tunes.
We lost ourselves in the crowded dance floor, and I let the music, the sparkle in Rand’s eyes, and the press of bodies sweep away much of my sorrow and fear.
We danced until the early morning hours until the band finally stopped and began to pack up their instruments.
Exhausted and sweaty, we walked hand-in-hand toward Southside Borough. When I realized that Rand had sunk deep in thought, I looked up at him questioningly.
He stopped, moved in front of me, and then grasped both of my hands in his.
“Maya, I—” He cut himself off with a sharp exhale. He swallowed and started again. “It’s killing me that this must be the end for us. If you were staying, I would ask you to be my wife.”
I started to protest, to beg him to stop speaking because I suddenly couldn’t bear to hear the words. I didn’t want my mind to jump to that possibility, to envision a life with Rand, when I would be leaving Earthenfell forever in less than a day.
He quickly interrupted me. “I know you do not love me now,” he said, clearly misinterpreting my reason for trying to silence him. “But if I’d had the chance, I would have made you so happy and filled your heart with such joy you would have had no choice but to love me.”
“Rand, you are a better man than I deserve,” I whispered, barely forcing out the words around the lump in my throat.
“Don’t say that,” he said fiercely. He squeezed my hands so tightly pain flared in my fingers. “You are the most beautiful, kind, and radiant woman on Earthenfell. I’ve loved you for a decade, a
nd I will love you until the end of my days.” His eyes welled in the starlight, but to my relief no tears fell.
I didn’t know how to respond. I did care for Rand, but the force of his feelings hit me like a punch to the stomach and it was suddenly too much. On top of everything else, I couldn’t bear the weight of his love and the burden of his loss that would come when I left.
I wiggled my fingers to loosen one hand from his grip and reached up to touch his cheek. “It pains me, too, that we will not have the chance.” I simply couldn’t summon the will to say more.
When I began to step away, his face clouded. I felt bad that he seemed to expect me to say more, but the pull of home was drawing my mind elsewhere. And even though we wouldn’t see each other again after I left, it didn’t feel right to exaggerate my feelings just to make him feel good. I was as good as gone. The quicker he moved on, the better.
Although we walked hand-in-hand through the dark streets, Rand seemed much more distant than just an arm’s length away. A few times, I began to say something to him but then stopped myself, realizing that anything I might say would probably sound inane and inadequate.
The brutal truth was that I couldn’t waste any more time or energy on Rand’s feelings. Not with what lay ahead for me.
My chest began to tighten as we arrived at my street. How many more times would I come home and open the front door of the house I’d lived in since birth? Maybe once or twice more before I had to leave for Calisto? The thought was so overwhelming, so stark, it nearly took my breath away.
A few steps from my front door, I forced my attention back to Rand. I stopped and tugged on his hand, compelling him to halt and turn toward me. I couldn’t return his romantic feelings, but I did owe him my deepest gratitude.
“You have always been so wonderful to me, Rand,” I said softly. “I’m sorry that I didn’t appreciate it as much as I should have a long time ago. Please don’t allow yourself to languish because of my departure. You only have to get through one more Selection, and then you’ll be free. You have your whole life ahead of you. You can get engaged, get married, have your own family. And you should.”
His thumb swept back and forth over the back of my hand, and he looked down at his shoes. When he looked up at me, there was a gleam in his eye that I wasn’t sure how to interpret, but for the briefest of moments, it made me uneasy. Then he blinked and his expression hardened.
He let go of my hand and shoved both of his in his pockets. “I will look after Lana and see that her quotas are taken care of.”
Then he put his head down, moved past me, and walked toward the street. I watched him, my mouth dropping open with bewilderment at the abruptness of his departure. When he continued down the street without a backward glance, I snapped my mouth closed and went to the door. Something about the way Rand left felt oddly open-ended, despite what I’d said to him, but I couldn’t afford the effort of analysis.
Inside, a candle on a side table had burned almost down to its stubby end. Someone stirred on the sofa—Lana.
I tiptoed inside, but when she sat up I wasn’t really sorry that I’d woken her. As always when we were apart for more than a couple of hours, I craved her company. It was almost a physical relief to be in the same room with her again, like stepping into a bit of shade on a hot day.
“What time is it?” she whispered sleepily.
“I’m not sure.” As I sat down, she shifted her legs to make room for me. I faced her, pulling my knees up and clasping my arms around them. “It’s still dark out. After three but before four, maybe?”
“Did Rand take you to mid-town?” she asked.
She pulled her knees up too, facing me. Bookends. That’s what Mother always called us when we sat like that.
“We stopped at a pub for a bite, and then we danced the rest of the night.”
“Really,” she said, a statement rather than a question. A sly smile formed on her lips and spread to her eyes. “You just danced?”
“Just danced.”
She giggled. “I could have sworn you intended more than that.”
“Shh.” I swatted her wrist with the back of my hand and cast a glance toward Mother’s closed bedroom door. “We just danced. Nothing more.”
“Maybe you should have done something more.” She snorted a good-natured laugh. “Better Rand than Court, that lying dog.”
“Speaking of Court, we ran into him at the pub. With Farrah.”
Lana’s mouth dropped open and she sucked in some air. “What did you do?”
I recounted the whole conversation, word for word or as close as I could remember, and Lana nodded approvingly when I got to the end.
“Lana,” I said, my tone turning serious. “I asked Rand if he would help with your quotas, and he said he would.”
“That is more than I would ever expect of someone,” she whispered. “Thank you for taking care of me. I don’t know how I could ever repay him for something like this.”
We were silent for a few seconds, and then Lana shifted. “Did you at least kiss him?”
“Of course, I’m not a total prude.”
“And how did he stack up to Court?”
“I give Rand the edge. I didn’t expect it, but he has more passion than you’d guess.” I couldn’t reveal what he’d said about wanting to marry me. It felt too painful, somehow. “I bet he’s more than acceptable in bed.”
She slapped her hand over her mouth, and we both tried to stifle our childish giggles. It felt so warm and wonderful, laughing with my twin late into the night just as we’d done countless times since we were small.
Then Lana’s hands dropped to her lap and her face turned grave. “Maya, I’m scared about what Lord Toric will do to you. The rumors . . .”
I decided not to remind her that Lord Toric’s sexual appetites would only be my problem if I survived the competition and won a place in his harem. The fact was, none of us knew the particulars of what he did with his harem. The rumors ranged from unspeakable humiliating acts to bloody rituals to forced orgies . . . every rumor I’d ever heard, every scenario I’d ever imagined, tried to crowd into my mind at once and I sagged against the backrest of the sofa.
The only thing we really knew for certain was that the female Obligates would enter a series of competitions of charm, wit, physical strength and stamina, and of course, sensuality. The women were competing for a place in Lord Toric’s harem. The male Obligates were competing to become one of his many personal servants. Some stages of the competition were deadly, so all of us would be competing for our lives.
My stomach knotted as I reached over to grasp Lana’s forearm. “Don’t worry, I will charm Lord Toric so thoroughly he will want to be my slave.”
Her lips twitched as if she thought to try to smile, but then her face pinched and her mouth trembled. “I hate them, Maya. I hate the overlords for taking you away from me.”
A sickening mix of anger, sadness, and fear poured through me in a dark flood. I hated them, too. For stealing my life, my future. For taking me from the only people I cared about. I knew I shouldn’t feel that way—we survived on Earthenfell only at the mercy of the overlords’ protection. But I couldn’t help my anger.
She placed her hand over mine, and for once I was glad she couldn’t see my face. I was glad she couldn’t see how truly afraid I was.
5
Toric
ON SELECTION DAY I always woke with a raw feeling in the pit of my stomach, as if the soft spot just behind my sternum had been roughly scraped out while I slept. For the people under the shield on Earthenfell, the day of the Selection was a day of ceremony and revelry into the night. For me, it was a reminder of helplessness and terror. A dark anniversary of the day I was taken from my home when I was just a boy. I also thought of it as the anniversary of the death of that boy, for the young man who was returned home four years later was someone different entirely.
The Selection was a fitting way to mark my personal anniversary, in some grim way
. Young men and women forced from their homes and families, taken to a strange land and molded into different people. “Molded” was much too kind a word to describe what I endured, but the analogy still held.
I’d awoken early, and the woman in my bed was still asleep. Sytoria lay sprawled beside me, her frame willowy by Earthenfell standards, but petite compared to the average woman of Calisto. She won entry into my harem four years—eight Selection cycles—back. She was clever and manipulative, and worked her way into my bed more nights than any of the others. I saw through her games, but had no interest in calling her out on them. I told myself it was because I didn’t care if it was Sytoria or one of the many others who joined me each evening. But that wasn’t exactly the truth. From the beginning, Sytoria had sensed what I needed.
I could wake her, of course. I was the Lord of Calisto and she was there to serve me. But I decided to wait until the first morning toll. Not out of any particular generosity or kindness on my part, but to prove to myself that I could wait.
It was a charade, though. I could never wait for long.
As if sensing the morning toll would chime soon, Sytoria rolled to her side, facing me. Her hair, a golden shade between dark blonde and light brown, fell in a wave across her cheek, one strand clinging to the lower lip of her full ruby mouth.
The familiar tightness gathered in my chest and the ache of desire welled in my lower abdomen.
Sytoria’s eyes opened and her hand snaked under the covers to wrap around me. She squeezed, painfully hard, but still my arousal grew, which brought a look of satisfaction to her face.
She rose from the bed and walked naked to the large wardrobe, opened the doors, and selected two short whips, one for each of her slender hands. Turning to me, she flashed a wicked, knowing smile.
She knew exactly what I wanted, and I hated her for knowing it. I hated that I wanted what she so willingly gave.
As always, my mind slipped far away as my arousal grew. And as always, my body stayed behind to absorb both the pleasure and the punishment.
