When a person didn’t feel much, sex for the sake of pleasure got old quickly. He had lost interest sometime after the Great War.
Cemil choked. “I have no words.”
“And you? When was the last time you got laid?”
“We aren’t talking about me, and the pool for me to choose from is much smaller than yours, oh world traveler.”
“Until this evening, I had no interest. But, with my kind, that is the way it happens.” They would go decades, sometimes centuries, until they found someone who started a spark. For many, the spark would fade following intercourse or at the next full moon. His father, a shaman, had stayed long enough to learn about his mother’s pregnancy. The spark had faded with the cresting of the full moon weeks before. It had been better, in a way. She would be taken care of and, unlike humans of the time period, she wouldn’t be shunned but revered for her fertility.
He met his father sometime after his thirtieth year, an amicable and informative encounter, but Shade felt no desire to see the man again. They had connected several times over the last century as his job with the Syndicate had brought him in contact with most talented magicians, his father the top shaman. Later, the same connections would have him crossing paths with the Duteigr Streak, Rekkus’ pack, and the Rowans.
Pulling out of his musing, he met Cemil’s twinkling eyes. “But it’s never happened with one like her.”
“I suggest you try and act more like her, then. More human.”
Human? How did one act human, and what did a soulpath do when his abilities were clouded by intense sexual desires he hadn’t felt in decades, if ever? Their inherent lack of emotion allowed them to deal with souls and be unaffected. An ability Cyrus should have been blessed with.
“You’ll figure it out, my friend.” Cemil patted him on the shoulder and walked off, leaving Shade to eat the rest of his meal in silence. The others at his table had left to follow their own pursuits.
He scanned the room for no other reason than to get his mind off Ashlynn Stone. In the dark-green section of the dining hall, a few paras still dined, including one with shifting issues—never an easy thing for a shifter to admit—and two witches healing from spells gone wrong. In the light-green section, he observed a young couple with infertility issues and an older couple dealing with Parkinson’s, and, in the back, between the two sides, a mermaid in love.
The Siren caught him off guard. Mermaids showed little emotions, and this one radiated both kindness and love. Well, miracles never ceased. So what did one do when he was supposed to act human normal?
A question he had no answer for.
Chapter Five
It didn’t matter if he was crazy. She wanted him with a desire she had never experienced in her life. This pull to him unbearable, tied her stomach in knots. Sleep, when it graced her, came in broken naps and fretful bouts. Her traitorous body and erotic dreams kept luring her back to images of his green eyes set against his tanned skin. She needed to focus on healing, on finding a cure for her headaches, and coming to terms with her scars. Scars she discovered cut as deep inside as they did out.
A headache had hit her so hard during her relaxation class she’d curled into a fetal ball. She had no recollection of how she came to be back in her room with an eye mask over her face, lavender filling her senses, and Sage’s soothing voice whispering orders to those around her.
A single candle gave the room what little light she needed as Sage chanted something in a language Ashlynn didn’t recognize. The sounds and cadence soothed. Twice she awakened to find Sage sitting in the chair beside her, a kind smile always gracing her soft face.
“How did I get back here?” she remembered asking at some point.
“My brother Cyrus brought you here.”
“You don’t have to stay.”
“Of course I do. You need me.”
Her own mother couldn’t be
Cemil choked. “I have no words.”
“And you? When was the last time you got laid?”
“We aren’t talking about me, and the pool for me to choose from is much smaller than yours, oh world traveler.”
“Until this evening, I had no interest. But, with my kind, that is the way it happens.” They would go decades, sometimes centuries, until they found someone who started a spark. For many, the spark would fade following intercourse or at the next full moon. His father, a shaman, had stayed long enough to learn about his mother’s pregnancy. The spark had faded with the cresting of the full moon weeks before. It had been better, in a way. She would be taken care of and, unlike humans of the time period, she wouldn’t be shunned but revered for her fertility.
He met his father sometime after his thirtieth year, an amicable and informative encounter, but Shade felt no desire to see the man again. They had connected several times over the last century as his job with the Syndicate had brought him in contact with most talented magicians, his father the top shaman. Later, the same connections would have him crossing paths with the Duteigr Streak, Rekkus’ pack, and the Rowans.
Pulling out of his musing, he met Cemil’s twinkling eyes. “But it’s never happened with one like her.”
“I suggest you try and act more like her, then. More human.”
Human? How did one act human, and what did a soulpath do when his abilities were clouded by intense sexual desires he hadn’t felt in decades, if ever? Their inherent lack of emotion allowed them to deal with souls and be unaffected. An ability Cyrus should have been blessed with.
“You’ll figure it out, my friend.” Cemil patted him on the shoulder and walked off, leaving Shade to eat the rest of his meal in silence. The others at his table had left to follow their own pursuits.
He scanned the room for no other reason than to get his mind off Ashlynn Stone. In the dark-green section of the dining hall, a few paras still dined, including one with shifting issues—never an easy thing for a shifter to admit—and two witches healing from spells gone wrong. In the light-green section, he observed a young couple with infertility issues and an older couple dealing with Parkinson’s, and, in the back, between the two sides, a mermaid in love.
The Siren caught him off guard. Mermaids showed little emotions, and this one radiated both kindness and love. Well, miracles never ceased. So what did one do when he was supposed to act human normal?
A question he had no answer for.
Chapter Five
It didn’t matter if he was crazy. She wanted him with a desire she had never experienced in her life. This pull to him unbearable, tied her stomach in knots. Sleep, when it graced her, came in broken naps and fretful bouts. Her traitorous body and erotic dreams kept luring her back to images of his green eyes set against his tanned skin. She needed to focus on healing, on finding a cure for her headaches, and coming to terms with her scars. Scars she discovered cut as deep inside as they did out.
A headache had hit her so hard during her relaxation class she’d curled into a fetal ball. She had no recollection of how she came to be back in her room with an eye mask over her face, lavender filling her senses, and Sage’s soothing voice whispering orders to those around her.
A single candle gave the room what little light she needed as Sage chanted something in a language Ashlynn didn’t recognize. The sounds and cadence soothed. Twice she awakened to find Sage sitting in the chair beside her, a kind smile always gracing her soft face.
“How did I get back here?” she remembered asking at some point.
“My brother Cyrus brought you here.”
“You don’t have to stay.”
“Of course I do. You need me.”
Her own mother couldn’t be
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