Page 12 of Ashborne Phoenix

My hands shook.

My nervous flutters returned.

And I held her after. For hours.

I didn’t sleep, even after she did.

And in the weeks that followed, I learned to need her—body, mind, and soul. That was the year I arrogantly ordered my mother to instruct her parents to leave her with us when they left after the Solstice.

I couldn’t understand why my parents exchanged a look at that.

Cali and I had become lovers, though we’d hidden the fact. I’d slept with girls before, but those couplings had been nothing but mindless rutting, yet another proof of my power.

With Cali, I barely breathed for days.

I lived in a world where anything could be grasped—usually simply by declaring that I wished for it. At worst, I bartered. But Cali…

Cali didn’t want my power. She wanted me. For the first time, I navigated the tension of the competing pride and fear which came with knowing someone needed me.

She came to me in tears after a particularly grueling ritual.

She came to me in fear when she’d angered her father.

She came to me breathless when our eyes caught across a ballroom. I snuck her away to a chaise lounge in a deserted parlor and would have sworn I grew an inch overnight after finally discovering how to bring her to her peak.

I was fifteen years old, and carried myself like a man.

Men bowed when I entered a room.

Married women flirted with me.

And Cali made my chest swell.

In a world entirely accessible, she was precious. She understood the war of disdain and fear that went on in my chest about my parents. She understood that I had a purpose, and wanted it for me. But didn’t want me for it. She didn’t laugh at my fear, or wrinkle her nose. She curled me into an embrace and whispered that we would meet it together.

I offered her my shelter and it helped us both feel less alone.

I made her safe. She made me known.

I determined to marry her.

Then, before I turned sixteen, the Cruors called a hunt. And because Cali was six months older than me, she was old enough to participate.

But I was not.

The Prize

SOUNDTRACK: God Is a Weapon by Falling in Reverse, feat. Marilyn Manson

~ VOSKI ~

At fifteen, I was arrogant enough to believe my own will and effort were a match for any obstacle. Yet, human enough to understand what would happen if I failed.

The night the hunt was announced, Cali crept to my room, into my bed, and cried as I held her.

“I won’t allow it,” I declared fiercely, stroking her hair back from her face and wiping her tears.

“It’s not your choice!” she whispered, and my pride flinched.