Like now…
With her slow movements.
Touching herself for me.
Slow. Behaved. Sweet.
But unknowingly seductive.
“He touched you there?” I growl, fighting against the pulsing need in my cock. I flex my hard-on against her underside but wish I could squeeze it inside her. Fuck, she’d be tight. Too tight, we’d both be in agony. “Did you like it?”
Slowly, her brows draw in and she shakes her head, trying to shake the mask away. I lower it, revealing her plump red lips. Red lips… too red. Blood has rushed to them…
Her eyes roll backward.
Fuck.
“Aster,” I shake her lightly.
Not now. I look her over again, place the back of my hand on her forehead. Her skin radiates heat; she is burning up. Her perspiration is slick against my knuckles. Clammy. She’s fucked. I part her lips to open her mouth and look at her tongue… Then it dawns on me. Bacteria.
Tetanus.
Part ThreeTo be a Silk Girl
Chapter One
Aster
Silk Girl Vows:
Adore. Pleasure. Provide.
“What temperature do you want your shower?” Someone with an elegant accent asks from across the large room. I lift my wrist to see the smooth surface, skin grafted to the place my tattoo used to be—healing.
How can that be?
I must be dreaming…
I was only just in the tank with my king…
Or was I?
Why would I be alone with him in the first place? Confusion rolls through me. Maybe I’m still in that dank space—the Endigos are eating me slowly, and I have checked out like the live meat. Pieces of me being licked and chewed…
I blink at the new skin; I don’t feel real. I have to be asleep. Fur Girls dream more than Silk Girls.
We aren’t at peace.
Sitting on the edge of a giant bed, I swing my legs to and fro as though I were on an enormous cliff face. The carpeted floor is hundreds of miles from my toes, like a descent to the depths of The Cradle. Into The Crust I dive…
“I'm sorry,” I say to the space below my feet, “What did you say?
“Oh!” She sounds excited. “You’re coherent. The fever has let you go. That is wonderful. I have some questions for you. You can pick the temperature of your shower in The Estate. How would you like it?”
I wiggle my toes. I am dreaming. What an odd one this is. Everyone knows we have it hot. “We usually have it—"
“Scolding, I know,” the kind voice says. “That is what all the Silk Girls say. But what do you want? Now that you have a choice of what you want?”
“Scolding,” I repeat plainly. Not an answer or agreement, just a word that works and she used. Easy to pull out of my mind.
“Excellent choice,” she praises, and I smile, proud. “And your sheet? You can choose the colour of your main sheet, but the rest of your bedding will be purple.”
“Um.” The complementary opposite of purple is yellow—we learn that when we arrange flowers. So I say, “Yellow is the best colour to match purple.”
“Gold then?”
Why is this bed so high? “Sure.”
“What flowers do you want? I'll bring you Silk Wisteria, but you can pick another species?”
“Flowers,” I say, smiling. We are all little flowers growing through the crust of The Cradle. Suddenly, as the f sound makes my tongue flap, I remember I’m wounded. I stick it out and look down, trying to see the cut but my tongue isn’t long enough.
“Don’t do that,” she says, poking my tongue back inside my mouth. “Tongues heal fast. It is mostly fine. It is a muscle after all. It’s your temperature that has been bothersome the past three days.”
“Three days?”
“Yes, you’ve had a terrible fever.”
Fever…
“You can pick whichever flower you want,” she says, back to the same question. “I'll make sure you always have fresh ones in your room.”
“Pick a flower,” I repeat. “Pick the petals, one by one. He loves me, he loves me not, he loves me. Who will he choose? Um. Aster. I pick Aster.”
“Most Silk Girls pick their own name.”
“Aster is foreign, though.” I wiggle my toes again, little beans waving. A three-day fever? “Aster isn’t from around here. It’s not like the rest.”
“No, but that’s okay. They produced seeds when you were named. And we started growing Aster ourselves. They turned out beautifully.”
I laugh at the silly dream. “Really?”
“Of course. And your pills.” She is suddenly in front of me, looking like a stunning Xin De Goddess. So tall and strong. She has brown hair and skin, long dark lashes, and a birthmark on her left cheek shaped like a star.
“Woah,” I mutter, gazing up at her. Then I look down at the pills lying on her palm. Two tiny pills. One white. One blue.
“Do the other girls get these, too?”
“No. These are just for you. You were poisoned, Aster. You got tetanus and have been sedated and on IV treatment for the past three days. To help you heal. These are a low dose. Soon, you should be mostly better.” She smiles. “Take them.”
I swallow the pills.
“And finally, Sire would like to know what ‘meal you will not forget to eat.’”
I blink at her.
“His exact words. So…” She nods to encourage me to answer. “What will it be?”
“I’ve always liked warm oatmeal and honey, but it’s hard to get. They are both so rare. Just like Asters.”
Chapter Two
Rome
“What temperature did Aster choose?”
My ears twitch to the sound of her name, and I find myself detouring from the double doors that lead outside to the hunting grounds. Instead, I follow Cairo’s voice toward his rooms. I wonder what he makes of her.
At the far end of the hall, the door to his chamber is open and a Watcher stands in the gap.
He doesn’t allow anyone to enter his space except for me. Had he a choice, he might object to that, too. He does not.
“Scolding, Master,” she answers.
Cairo nods. “And the flower?”
“Aster, Master.”
“And the sheet?”
I continue down the corridor, the hard rap of my boots on the concrete draws The Watcher’s attention. Noticing my approach, she swallows and bows, her chin to her chest, her eyes cast downward as I pass her.
“Sire.”
“The sheet?” I press, strolling into Cairo’s pristine quarters. Wall-to-wall bookcases carved from the rich, red flesh of ancient trees surround a matching single desk and leather studded chair.
Cairo doesn’t look away from the three-dimensional screen across from him—a giant vision that covers the wall. He swipes his finger and pinches to move through the depth of the screen. Documenting the finer details hidden in each answer and filing them accordingly.