I told her what I witnessed personally.

  And then I circled back to sex, because time was limited, and she needed to understand. “Once Thayer opens you, you will have a new orifice here.” I gestured between my legs. “A sensitive slit that leads to a tight passage. He will stimulate every part of this area until pleasure overcomes clarity. Thayer will be eager to give you a sexual pleasure that ignites to a climax of feeling, and may use various parts of his body: fingers, tongue, and an organ males have between their legs. This organ, nature designed it to navigate female anatomy, and it will go inside you.”

  Horror ruled her features. “That sounds awful!”

  Trying hard to explain, I waved my arm like a snake. “The limb is prehensile and shaped like a spear. It can elongate and contract; the movements when its inside you… feel good. Very good. And if you engage in the act, it feels even better. You may choose to lie there and let him entice you, which will be successful, even if you resist.”

  “Did you resist?”

  Short, nervous nods were all I could offer.

  I swallowed, took a deep breath, and started again. “Once you have been opened, the rest is inevitable. The male will not stop. If they must force you, they will. Even without permission, you will feel a climax of pleasure as he does his work. Once you do, your body will entice the base of his organ to expand into a swollen knot that prevents its removal. Your pelvis will be locked to Thayer as he ejaculates fluid into these awakened pockets of your reproductive system. Your stomach will swell far more than you would think possible while he works to fertilize every egg you were born with.

  “Before he removes his organ from your body, the man can choose to leave a waxy plug within you, so you will stay inflated with his liquids. Your body will absorb much of the addictive fluid. You will forget thirst.”

  Narrowing her eyes at my flat stomach, Maeve demanded, “Why are you not this way now?”

  “It is forbidden on academy grounds, but Cyderial will do this to me once my duties are over. Because, if he doesn’t, I will get sick.”

  Nodding, she pieced it together. “The addiction.”

  “Yes. As I said, they call it heat. Heat is exactly what it feels like—fever and aches that grow until you are no longer able to resist your mate’s advances. You can submit to male attention willingly, or your body works against your will until you beg for relief.” At least, that is what I had been told. I had no intention of ever purposefully suffering to that point.

  Her cheeks grew red, and she looked on the verge of angry tears. “This is nightmarish.”

  I could not lie to her, only nod in agreement. “For some of the women I have spoken to, yes. But you are in an ideal situation, Maeve. You know what is going to take place. There won’t be unwitting terror when you suddenly feel pain and think you are dying. The pain of opening will not kill you, nor will it last long if he is careful. You will know why he takes your clothing away; you will expect the large organ between his legs and how he might use it. Imagine going through that with no clue what was happening. The terror I felt could’ve been avoided. The suffering so many of us have been through, unnecessary. I’m not saying you won’t be scared, but you will be empowered. You’ll be able to ask him questions. But you will not be able to resist.”

  Muttering to herself, she hung her head in her hands. “I don’t want any of this. I don’t want a mate or children.”

  “No one can make you have children.” My body was beginning to ache from the anxiety of the moment, and I hated how much I suddenly craved Cyderial’s presence. “I am the one who will be forced to reproduce. The males demand it. Even the mated hybrid women asked me to do this for them.”

  That got her attention, her blonde head coming up so she might peek over her hands. “For them?”

  “From what I understand, females have refused to bear daughters. They hate the current system as much as we do but have not been able to affect change. I’m mated to Cyderial and have his support; this opportunity is unparalleled. He’s setting an example they can strive for.” I began to list why his behavior was so outside the norm, counting off each feat on my fingers. “He ignored the impulse of my song for ten years. He lets me outside of his home. I behave well in public to show the males what can be achieved with a lighter touch.”

  When I hesitated, Maeve asked, “And?”

  “The fact that I have highly desired genetics means three unmated generals believe my daughters will finally give them a song. That would give us five powerful males in total to rally for our cause. Five! Because the rest of the male population does not care—even if the women have refused to give them children—because they can make them do anything else.”

  Maeve understood, grasped it all far more quickly than I had. “We live a long, undetermined amount of time. Perhaps males believe they can wait us out.” Her disgust was clear. “That is vile.”

  Maeve was so right, but I had more to explain. “The academy is our prison, you see. Where they put us to keep us safe from their urges until we are of age. In order to get these men to consider allowing me to educate unmated females about sex and the bond, you must successfully submit and show them that with knowledge, you can be the epitome of a perfect mate. And I? I have to give them a daughter to fight over. That is the price for female education.”

  And I did not know how I was going to survive it, because speaking to Maeve about it made it feel far more likely. Far more real.

  She hated it as much as I did. “What is the epitome of a perfect mate?”

  Honestly, I didn’t know. “Many females do not react well to being opened and bred. They rebel, grow violent.”

  “Of course they do!”

  I could not agree more. “Of course they do. The men currently assume this is female nature and lock their mates away for years. Many women are kept in captivity and raped day and night until they choose to submit. Even those who submit may still be kept away.”

  Cocking her head, she studied me. “But you were not locked away.”

  “Cyderial is different. He resisted and focused on studying everything he could find about how to please a mate. You see, the men have journals, manuals, in-depth information they keep from us. Full of techniques teaching how to control us, knowledge on sexual pleasure, about our anatomy. Furthermore, Cyderial knows me. And on some level, I suppose I knew him.” I could admit that now, even if the knowing of him had been terrible. “I am the first who has been let out after being mated without a lengthy tenure locked away. This has drawn a great deal of attention to us. Other males, including your Thayer, desire what they perceive between Cyderial and myself. Males want affection in place of violence. They want eager sexual partners instead of a dazed woman who lies beneath them and waits for it to be over.”

  Maeve cocked a perfect brow. “You do these things?”

  Nodding, cheeks going pink, I confessed, “I enjoy sex and do not intend to deny myself pleasure, when the rest of my life is... concerning at times. I wanted the fog; I worked very hard to achieve my goals. Now, I’ve been dropped into a world I wasn’t prepared for, and I’m owned by a man who is obsessive in his care for me. As for affection, I tolerate his and find that many times I do enjoy it.” My current situation was not going to alter. I would belong to Cyderial until the end of time. “I am mated. I am addicted. And was blessed with great advice from a very old female. Miranda spoke of regret. Though I feel it sometimes to the point I can’t breathe, it is a waste of time. Nothing can be changed for me. In centuries, nothing has changed for her or the others like her. But I can change things for you, for other unmated females.”

  With a disdainful snort, Maeve said, “All you have to do is give obstinate men your baby.”

  “And deliver you to General Thayer, Maeve,” I added softly.

  Tenacious, she sneered. “If I refuse?”

  If she refused, I would be able to set down an insupportable weight. I would not have to grow heavy with both guilt and a baby who would be taken from my arms. And nothing would change. “If you agree, you will be the linchpin in forcing our males to support women in having access to knowledge about their bodies—and we might be able to create a world that benefits all of our daughters in a very important way.”

  “It won’t work.”

  Unsure if I felt relief or disappointment, I closed my eyes and let out a breath. “Okay.”

  “It won’t work, Lorieyn, unless every other hybrid female gestates a daughter at the same time,” she said with cold, calculating authority. “The mated males will be forced to consider what their daughters will have to deal with, and the unmated males will want to please what might be theirs one day.”

  My dear sister was truly a politician at heart.

  How dearly I loved her.

  Resolved, a flare of anger burning in her heart, Maeve demanded, “Will the mated females agree to this?”

  Nodding, astounded at such an outrageous and brilliant concept, I felt my hearts skip a beat. Miranda would see that every last female supported this endeavor, which meant, at the end of it all, it wasn’t Maeve who had been cornered into something terrible; it was me.

  I would be forced to birth a child. I would do this for my sisters. And it broke my heart.

  I started to cry.

  But a woman like Maeve, born and bred to bring positive change to the world, didn’t flinch like I had. Determined, she retook her chair, pointed at me to retake mine, and began asking me everything she could think of on the topics of mating, sex, pleasure, males, and how to survive them.

  The short remaining minutes were not enough time to cover half of what I’d learned.

  When Cyderial came to take my friend away, I pulled her to me and hugged Maeve so hard I may have cracked one of her ribs. I could not be coaxed away from her until my mate began to thrum and sweeten the air. Even then, I was sobbing when she was ordered out.

  And he was kind to me.

  Kind and gentle.

  Until he grew rough and perfect.

  15

  A week had passed since I was allowed to see Maeve. A week in which I had plenty of time to process all we discussed.

  To wonder if she fully accepted her role in this endeavor.

  To understand that if she did, I too must keep my part… and what that would mean.

  Though I desired the company of my friend, her counsel and clarity, Cyderial did not permit me to summon her to his office again. Perhaps he was right to do so; endless conversation on an unchanging topic was not going to give either of us a deeper acceptance of the expected sacrifice. She needed space to consider what I shared, to grieve the life she now knew she’d never have.

  I needed to decide if I truly would do something so horrible as grow pregnant and betray my unborn child.

  Of course, I told Cyderial nothing of my fears.

  But he knew. And he watched me closely.

  In those seven days, my new routine at the academy was established. Though vastly different than training as a recruit, my daytime hours were just as busy. Meetings where I listened to elders discuss the inner workings of hybrid education, with subtle, secret language peppered throughout pertaining to the humans’ expectations of the next crop of graduates.

  Where improvement was necessary to meet those expectations. Where disaster might lurk.

  Such talk made me feel unclean when Cyderial explained the finer details later in private.

  The more I learned of the humans’ demands, the less I understood them.

  Each farmer I had known over the years had been so sweet. They built a personal relationship with me, risked punishment to teach me forbidden knowledge and offer me sweets.

  But… I now knew Cyderial had known all along. He’d watched me from the fog, chosen each of them to suit my personality and needs.

  I might have been protecting them from rampaging vorec, but they were also nurturing me.

  Regular humans were not so… civilized. The heartbreaking experience at my mother’s house had shown me just how cruel they could be.

  But was it fair to judge an entire population on one bad afternoon?

  Then there were the academy instructors. Integrating with them, as an equal of sorts, was vastly uncomfortable. Several had done me substantial bodily harm in the name of teaching me how to thrive. More than one, I despised. But they were so normal when recruits were not about, sipping coffee and chatting about the weather, the state of the fog, interesting vorec sightings.

  Armed watchers had to obey me.

  Yet not one of them would meet my eye. Cyderial’s orders.

  Being his mate made me a freak, while it also gave me power I was uncomfortable wielding. None of it had been earned; it was just the residue of my mate’s status.

  Yet I was still treated with deference and seemingly without resentment.

  Instructors who had previously been horrible… were courteous and patient.

  And I hated it.

  I hated the duality of life—before and after being mated. I hated that everyone had been in on some kind of secret yet never shared vital information with the very girls in their care.

  Mostly, I struggled with hating my new, bleak outlook on life.

  Weapons Instructor Durim was soon to be officially promoted, and I would be taking over her position as Swordsmanship Instructor for the youngest recruits. Where prior to my mating I had been her assistant, now I was tasked with leading the class under her watchful eye.

  And I was failing at my job.

  Durim openly side-eyed my method with the children—clicked her tongue and complained to my mate that my empathy was unacceptable.

  Because I was kind, she had to come down harder to pick up my slack when they failed to obey me.

  Which was exhausting, infuriating, and an obvious flaw in my character as an academy instructor. Outnumbered thirty to one by the children, I did my best, and it seemed they did like me—even if I had become the ultimate traitor.

  But it was already obvious which little ones would not make it past their upcoming finals—and now I knew what would be done to them.

  The boy who stuck out his long tongue at the girls, laughing when I told him to stand at attention. The girl twirling around when she was supposed to be kneeling until her legs grew numb.

  Perfectly normal children who would be culled if I could not alter their path in a matter of days. The reinforcement of no painful consequences in my class would only lead them to act out everywhere else.

  Durim was frustrated.

  But I could not bring myself to break one of their perfect little fingers.

  One afternoon, when the boy was particularly rowdy, I even started crying in the middle of class. Certain I was not cut out to be an instructor, that the responsibility was too big, I lost control of myself and sobbed into my hands.

  Of course, my theatrics caused a general panic amongst the littles, a watcher reported me, and Cyderial descended.

  My mate being a pure leader and utterly terrifying, the boy wet himself by the time the general was finished yelling at him.

  Cyderial continued the class, and Cyderial did break three fingers. The boy, the girl, and another student who made a simple mistake.

  Order returned, but all I could think about was the fact that my baby would have to go through this if I dared do something so stupid as grow pregnant.

  I wanted my daughter to be able to twirl, to laugh, to sing….

  The more these ideas came to me, the more I began to wonder what she might look like should I indulge in this insanity.

  Would she have pale hair like her father, or dark, thick hair like mine? I always saw her with my brown, hooded eyes, and I imagined a pretty smile that would be taken from her when she was five.

  When she would be forced to come here, and I might only see her in class. How much would she hate me for it?

  Would she ever be able to forgive me for offering her up as a sacrifice before society developed enough to deserve her? Would she understand why I was so stupidly considering such a nightmare?

  Would it ultimately benefit her if I took this risk now before the opportunity for male support evaporated?

  Was I wrong about everything?

  Dark thoughts would come, daydreams about the fog I longed to disappear into. Secret wishes that poison air would roll through the city and choke all the humans who made this suffering necessary.

  Secret bitterness grew in my heart; I began to sound like Cyderial in my thoughts. Why should we die for them, when they already solved the issue of their existence with our creation?

  But so many of the humans did not see us as their children.

  Strangers on the street called me an abomination.

  Many would call my children abominations.

  How I could have grown so disillusioned so quickly saddened me deeply. But I forced it down, hid it, unprepared to admit my inner failings to the very man who shattered my world view.

  In a matter of days, teaching those wonderful children, knowing what I knew, I grew to loath the unseen humans in power—influential men and women whose names I heard in meetings yet never so much as laid my eyes upon.

  I wished horrible evils would befall them. Then shame would come for such dark thoughts.

  Afraid of what it might mean should I confess my wicked imaginings, I submitted to my mate’s ridiculous possessiveness and let him exorcise my demons without complaint.

  He told me to eat; I ate.

  He told me to drink; I drank.

  Sleep? I closed my eyes. On the white couch in the middle of the day. In his arms in the night.

  Spread, yield, climax? Yes.

  Cyderial was the master of purging shame straight from my body.

  “You can talk to me, Lorieyn.” He said it so sweetly, smoothing loose hair that escaped the knot at my nape, offering me something sweet to snack on while I worked through the endless paperwork that came with my new position.

  In his office, perched on the white couch, I refused. “I don’t want to.”

  “I’m here when you change your mind.”

  I hated that he could be so nice when he was also so terrible. But I also didn’t resist when he sought to give me comfort in any way.

 

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