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I roll onto my side and try to chase these dangerous thoughts away. The order will realize their error and move to place her in the correct nunnery to serve out her penance.
I want to block this transfer.
But I’d be breaking my vows.
I could easily speak in her defense and have her penance removed and her placement changed. But that would require breaking my vow of silence. I can’t do this. Maybe a year from now, when I complete my vows, I can travel to the nunnery and bend on a knee as humans prefer and propose?
A heavy sigh escapes my lips. I roll back and place a claw on my chest. I now truly understand the enormity of this situation. She’s not simply a female I want to pleasure mate—she’s my future Bound. The mother of future Firestones. This is why I’m tempted like never before.
But that doesn’t mean this human feels the same about me. She is aroused, but does she want a Hyrrokin as a life partner? And why would she wait a year for me at the nunnery? Nuns are highly sought-after as life mates. And a human nun? I would have to beat the other proposals off with my staff. Some other male will identify her perfection and before I can return, swoop down to place his claim on what is mine. I could arrive only to find Lorelei having given up on me and mated to someone else. Someone who was able to speak in her defense, having helped her to start over elsewhere—and already swollen with that male’s offspring.
A growl rumbles in my chest.
I rise out of bed, discontent roiling in my heart and mind. Normally my vows of silence and celibacy offer lightness in my soul and bring me closer in my relationship to the gods. A path I travel that gives me pride and purpose. Today, they feel like an unbearable burden. How am I going to refrain from touching or speaking to Lorelei for a whole year? All I’ve allowed myself is the joy of holding her tiny hand, but I want to fill her with my seed and see her swollen with my offspring.
How am I going to save this monastery, fulfill my commitment to the gods and have my Bound at the same time?
It seems impossible.
I pause in front of her door, place a claw against the wood and listen to her even breaths through the portal. She is safe and secure.
I stride down the hall, wearing only my loincloth and carrying my robe over my arm. I reach the outdoor shower powered by the aqueduct and strip naked. Every morning, rain or shine, summer or winter, I arrive here and cleanse. The shock of ice-cold water diverted from the mountain slopes does wonders to lessen my constant need to self-stimulate.
Lorelei was banished for touching herself. Ridiculous. I masturbated so many times in my youth and while in the military it was comical. My cock was raw from all the self-stimulation. But this is also one of the rules of my four-year vow—celibacy also applies to masturbating. For the last four years I haven’t pleasure mated, nor have I stroked myself to completion. All the times I’ve woken to morning wood I’ve had to ignore it and pray harder. Hence all my cold showers. It helps greatly.
I finish my refreshing shower, pull on a fresh loincloth and robe and then walk back inside. Lorelei is in the kitchen quietly drinking a cup of herbal Traq.
“Good morning,” she greets with that delicate voice.
I grab her hand and pull her with me outside and point at the shower, which is still wet, and at the scented soap I made myself. She can use this as often as she likes. The wash basin in her cell is good in a pinch, but I suspect due to her human “hair” she might enjoy more full-body washes.
She stares up at me with wide eyes and flushed cheeks “There is no way I’m showering out here,” she exclaims. “Anyone can see me naked.”
I grin and glance over at her window. She watched me wash?
She whimpers and the flush on her face deepens. She knows I know she saw me naked. But she doesn’t know I’m happy at the thought of her watching the male who is going to claim her virginity.
I shake my head and point at the wall that blocks the outdoor shower from the rest of the monastery. Only our two rooms provide a view down into the outdoor shower. Her room usually remains empty no matter how many visitors I might get. I’d have pilgrims sleep on the floor in the sanctuary before I placed them next door to me, giving them access to my private showers. But Lorelei can watch me as often as she likes.
If she wants to join me, that would be even better.
I demonstrate how to turn on the water from the aqueduct and then I walk away in the opposite direction, hoping she will understand this means I will give her privacy. I suspect that humans are more careful about exposing their nakedness than Hyrrokin. And now that I know she likes viewing my naked body I will give this to her every morning.
Lorelei has receivedimproper instruction in the ways of our religion.
I learn this as I give her original source materials to read. She loves to talk with me during our meals about the history of the multigod religion, about the history of this monastery and the true word of the gods as documented in the ancient text. Only males are taught how to interpret the word of the gods in her commune on New Earth? This is not how our religion works. There should be no barrier between any being and their relationship with the multigods. We are all equals in the eyes of the gods and our species and gender aren’t barriers to our participation in leadership in the order. A famous Green-horn Nun founded this monastery. I can’t prove it, but I know it’s true. I admire her teachings greatly.
My human shows interest in my quill and ink, so give her a quill too, and I spend time instructing her how to write in the ancient language of the gods. She is so easy to teach. I pull in a small desk for her, and we work together. I have to copy and bind the ancient books onto new parchment, before the originals disintegrate. None of the materials here are to be touched by technology, only the old ways are allowed to save what was created a thousand years ago.
She continues to ask me myriads of questions, which I can’t answer. I’d think she was trying to trick me into breaking my vow, but I genuinely think she forgets I cannot respond. She apologies often. Mainly, I just love the sound of her voice.
And then she finally grows tired of the copying and settles in her chair before the fire and picks up her book to continue reading. “I love this universal translator they implanted in my brain,” she tells me. “Now I can read anything, no matter the language.”
I’m happy she was given a universal translator too because it makes her training so much easier. And when more pilgrims arrive, she’ll be able to greet them in their own languages. Our visitors are going to be surprised at being greeted by my charming, talkative human instead of a silent, brooding Hyrrokin. I suspect I’ll need to ready myself for the arrival of more than the usual number of visitors. It’s amazing how fast word spreads on the pilgrimage route. I’m certain my peers already know an unmated female trainee has been placed with me and they’re all wondering how I’m dealing with it.
HowamI dealing with it? I glance over at her lovely, exotic features lit by the glow of the fireplace. I’d say—not well. I continue to imagine being the male who gives this female her first kiss, her first orgasm, her first offspring.
The temptation to break my vows is growing exponentially.
