rush of something so powerful it fluttered her eyes and stole her breath. Then the heat; the blistering heat that she wanted to turn into something sweaty and messy until they forgot about their surroundings and just reveled in pleasure.
She also remembered the intense, deep feelings that went with all that. She’d thought about that often. And just like the last time, Romie’s face hovered into view. Not the Romie with the pale, lifeless face, but the one she’d fallen in love with. The sweet, charming boy with a slow smile and soft eyes. She couldn’t remember the same feelings in all her time with Romie. Not the rush of lust, the heat of passion, or the burning, aching need consuming her body. She didn’t remember wrestling intellects, fighting for dominance, or even the confusing arousal of submission.
Shanti turned away, uncertainty eating away at her. She didn’t want to give in. She was still lost, but now she was fighting what that meant. Deep inside, she knew it was a fight she’d already lost.
“Okay,” she said softly before she was limping away. She’d have to face Cayan soon, and once she’d given away her soul, she’d have to fight Xandre. She didn’t know if she was up for either.
Chapter Six
“ W ait a minute ,” Marc exclaimed, closing the door to his and Ruisa’s room and turning back to Ruisa. The Captain had left them that morning to go help S’am, and for most of the day Marc hadn’t done much more than study the maps and try to get the lay of the land. Now, at suppertime, Ruisa was trying to talk about how they might best work together. That had also meant revealing quite a few ghastly secrets. “You mean to tell me that women in our city run around, willy-nilly, poisoning guys at random, and you think that’s okay?”
Ruisa sighed as she strung a satchel over her head. “The art of poison has been—”
“The art of poison? ” Marc cut her off. “Are you listening to yourself?”
“It’s been passed down for generations. Men can protect themselves, no problem. And sure, they like to say they’ll protect their family, but when they go out and fight wars, who’s left? And who protects the family from the men?”
“The law, for one,” Marc said with his face red and fists clenched. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing.
“Back in the day, the men made the law for their family. Is it so wrong that women have a defense?” Ruisa shifted, sticking out one hip and adopting an expression Marc had already come to realize was stubbornness. “You can use swords and knives and muscles, and we’re supposed to… what, be totally fine in our vulnerability? We aren’t allowed to look after ourselves because we have vaginas, is that it?”
Marc winced at the word—female anatomy was still mostly foreign to him. Even the words embarrassed him.
The bigger problem was having to share a bathroom with her. She’d come out wearing just a breast binding and pants earlier. She hadn’t thought a thing of it, and apparently she didn’t realize how aggressive the male imagination could be. Now when he looked at her, all he saw was her toned midriff and the outline of her round, perky—
Marc put a palm to his forehead and squinted his eyes, trying to chase away the image.
“C’mon—we need to get to the food hall before a man poisons our guys.” Ruisa gave Marc a hard stare. And then, apparently thinking Marc was dense, elaborated with, “Because men poison, too. Or didn’t you know?”
Marc scowled as she walked toward him, all temper, violence and mysterious femininity.
An image of her body and round breasts flashed into Marc’s head again. He knew he wasn’t supposed to be picturing that stuff, and didn’t move as fast as he should have. Ruisa reached him and shoved him out of the way. She pulled open the door, glanced to her right looking for lurkers, and then stalked left down the hall.
“So… if you have… that capability,” Marc said as he caught up to
She also remembered the intense, deep feelings that went with all that. She’d thought about that often. And just like the last time, Romie’s face hovered into view. Not the Romie with the pale, lifeless face, but the one she’d fallen in love with. The sweet, charming boy with a slow smile and soft eyes. She couldn’t remember the same feelings in all her time with Romie. Not the rush of lust, the heat of passion, or the burning, aching need consuming her body. She didn’t remember wrestling intellects, fighting for dominance, or even the confusing arousal of submission.
Shanti turned away, uncertainty eating away at her. She didn’t want to give in. She was still lost, but now she was fighting what that meant. Deep inside, she knew it was a fight she’d already lost.
“Okay,” she said softly before she was limping away. She’d have to face Cayan soon, and once she’d given away her soul, she’d have to fight Xandre. She didn’t know if she was up for either.
Chapter Six
“ W ait a minute ,” Marc exclaimed, closing the door to his and Ruisa’s room and turning back to Ruisa. The Captain had left them that morning to go help S’am, and for most of the day Marc hadn’t done much more than study the maps and try to get the lay of the land. Now, at suppertime, Ruisa was trying to talk about how they might best work together. That had also meant revealing quite a few ghastly secrets. “You mean to tell me that women in our city run around, willy-nilly, poisoning guys at random, and you think that’s okay?”
Ruisa sighed as she strung a satchel over her head. “The art of poison has been—”
“The art of poison? ” Marc cut her off. “Are you listening to yourself?”
“It’s been passed down for generations. Men can protect themselves, no problem. And sure, they like to say they’ll protect their family, but when they go out and fight wars, who’s left? And who protects the family from the men?”
“The law, for one,” Marc said with his face red and fists clenched. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing.
“Back in the day, the men made the law for their family. Is it so wrong that women have a defense?” Ruisa shifted, sticking out one hip and adopting an expression Marc had already come to realize was stubbornness. “You can use swords and knives and muscles, and we’re supposed to… what, be totally fine in our vulnerability? We aren’t allowed to look after ourselves because we have vaginas, is that it?”
Marc winced at the word—female anatomy was still mostly foreign to him. Even the words embarrassed him.
The bigger problem was having to share a bathroom with her. She’d come out wearing just a breast binding and pants earlier. She hadn’t thought a thing of it, and apparently she didn’t realize how aggressive the male imagination could be. Now when he looked at her, all he saw was her toned midriff and the outline of her round, perky—
Marc put a palm to his forehead and squinted his eyes, trying to chase away the image.
“C’mon—we need to get to the food hall before a man poisons our guys.” Ruisa gave Marc a hard stare. And then, apparently thinking Marc was dense, elaborated with, “Because men poison, too. Or didn’t you know?”
Marc scowled as she walked toward him, all temper, violence and mysterious femininity.
An image of her body and round breasts flashed into Marc’s head again. He knew he wasn’t supposed to be picturing that stuff, and didn’t move as fast as he should have. Ruisa reached him and shoved him out of the way. She pulled open the door, glanced to her right looking for lurkers, and then stalked left down the hall.
“So… if you have… that capability,” Marc said as he caught up to
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