Echo from the Void (Lunar Lives Book 2) by J.T.R. Brown

Author:J.T.R. Brown [Brown, J.T.R.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2024-02-04T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 9

Esrit rode hard to the savannah, then eased into a trot. They rode on the edge, not daring to reenter the forest until Sprel tucked behind the mountains and the moons came out in all their colorful glory. They both experienced a sense of being far enough away to let their guard down at roughly the same point, like they’d passed some invisible barrier. Esrit suspected it reflected their growing connectedness. Nothing had explicitly been said, and they weren’t even facing each other most of the time as they rode. But skilled Indulgents read bodies like books, and the subtle communications of trust, fondness, comfort, and desire came through in grip strength, posture, and hand placement.

“I think we are okay now, lover. They can’t leave the forest anyway. At this point, I think birdy humans are our bigger threat.”

Esrit brought the mount to a halt. “I think so, too. I need to take a break. The bouncing on the mount is killing my shoulder.”

She slipped off the back of the mount and raised a claw to him. He smiled ironically at her. “Ah, come on!” she chided. “Don’t be prideful.”

He took her claw with the claw of his good arm and slid off gingerly. The scrape on his leg felt like a minor nuisance, but his throat still burned like a hot day on Scab and throbbing pain from his shoulder remained a constant. The internal lightning and its analgesic power tempted him. While he didn’t have a concrete reason to fear using the lightning, he suspected it came at a cost, even if he didn’t know what that cost was yet. Any “gift” from the Galvanizer elicited suspicion in him.

Presade walked around carefully, too. She had a bit of a limp and he could see her pressing her claws to her lower back. He suspected her body hurt much more than she allowed herself to show.

“Are you okay, Presade? You look like you are hurting a bit, too.”

“S’fine,” she said, forcing a smile. She tossed her wild, beautiful red hair and laughed. “I’ve had worse than this getting rowdy in the sanctum.”

He chuckled, knowing she might not be exaggerating. He stared at her, the moons’ light illuminating her hair, framing her face, and accentuating her curvaceous figure with shadows tucked at her waist, followed by color spilling across her generous hips and broad thighs. It felt different from the mechanical desire he had for other people in his colony. That had seemed like an impersonal exercise in boredom-reduction presented as a veneration for a god. This felt like a shared heat, both a mellow warmth and an intense burning simultaneously.

“I feel it too, lover,” she whispered, staring up at the stars.

He didn’t know how to respond. A thousand reasons could explain away this attachment fallacy if he consulted his tribe’s ideological teachings. Their vulnerable state. Their grief. Their alienation from others. He’d been taught to share ecstasy and move on, unattached. They hadn’t even shared ecstasy yet, but he felt very attached, dogma be damned.

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