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What is wrong with me?
She pauses to take in her surroundings. “You live here alone?”
I nod in agreement. I’m not popular to work with. And most of the other beings in my order accept assignments in the flashier, more comfortable monasteries on the main pilgrimage route. This place is basically a ruin.
“Should I call you High Priest Firestone?”
I shake my head.
Her brow furrows. “You…you want me to call you by your first name? Cabal?”
I smile, loving the sound of my name on her lips. I gesture for her to follow me as I head upstairs.
She follows behind, dragging along her wheeled suitcase. “It’s very quiet here,” she whispers.
We walk down a long hallway and I open a door for her.
She steps inside her cell and takes in the bare stone walls, the narrow bed and the chamber pot. She claps her hands with excitement. “This is my bedroom? I get a room to myself?” She turns toward me with an apparent burst of energy and throws back the shroud from her head and smiles at me.
I suck in a sharp breath. This is the most beautiful female I have ever seen. Her human hair is so light it is almost white, and her eyes are a bright blue. She is very colorless and seems frail in comparison to my species. There are no scales, horns or claws. I cannot even clearly make out her form underneath the robe, but her sex appeal is undeniable. I instantly want to snarl and flame at other males to stay away. Her beauty is for me, and me alone.
And then her stomach rumbles loudly with hunger. She places a hand over her robe, her face turning a charming shade of pink. “Oh sorry, they were only feeding me tiny snack-sized protein bars that tasted like burnt dirt.”
I place her suitcase on her bed and grab her hand. I pull her with me out of her room and back downstairs to partake of the midday meal. I hold her hand as we walk together, hiding it between our two voluminous robes. She enters the kitchen with me and looks out the back window at the garden and squeals with joy. She breaks free from my grasp and skips to the door and looks out at my careful rows of vegetables.
“Oh, it’s so beautiful.” Then she whirls around and tags me with sparkling eyes. “You don’t have a food dispenser, do you? You grow and eat whole, fresh food?”
My chest swells with pride. It’s true. I do.
“This is how we eat back home too. Fresh, organic food is always better than fake dispenser food.”
I nod with agreement. Pilgrims also bring gifts in repayment for their stay and to help feed them during their visits—wheels of cheese, flagons of wine, fresh meat to cook for dinners, and various treats. But mainly I eat what I grow—food I coaxed out of the ground with my own two claws.
We fill our bowls with vegetable soup that is simmering in a pot in the fireplace. I walk over to the adjoining refectory and sit at the long table. She tries to take a seat across from me, but I frown and pull her down beside me. Our bodies are pressed side by side on the bench. I cannot fuck her, nor can I speak to her, but I’m determined to remain as close as I can. Her scent fills my lungs and gives me peace.
Obviously, I should remain at a distance. But I am simply unable to refrain from touching her. I will pray later for forgiveness.
She moans with delight at the first bite of soup then eagerly finishes her bowl. She is so very small, but I can see the outline of her curves and they are generous, a perfect fit in my claws. I don’t want her to grow smaller. I will make sure I barter for more bread and sweets and just more food in general for my female. She needs to grow strong.
I eat alongside her and then stand and refill her food and give her more. And this time I also carve her a thick slice of aged cheese.
“Thank you, this is amazing. Cabal, you are such a good cook. I am going to have to learn this recipe.” Finally, she pushes her third empty bowl away and leans back, full with the food I gave her. She takes a sip of water and cuts me a glance, “I’m sure you want to know how I ended up here. I’d want to know if I were you.”
I nod. It is unusual for a such a rare species to be sent to a nunnery. I suspect there was an error, because her essential goodness radiates off her in waves.
Her face flames. “It’s not a good story. The reason why I’m here is that my family banished me to a nunnery on Salo to serve penance for a crime they believe I committed.”
3
Lorelei
Cabal takes my hand, as if providing comfort.
I told him I committed a crime and his first reaction is to reach out to me? Most beings would’ve rejected me outright.
His huge red hand with the silver-tipped claws engulfs my small human fingers. He’s actually been holding my hand a lot. And I haven’t protested. In fact, it seems…right.
I swallow hard and continue to gaze up at him. Why are we sitting so close? Why am I about to tell him my humiliating story? I can’t help it; I have this overwhelming need to open up to him.
