Free Capture of a Heart by Mya Lairis

strike.
    Such memories caused her pussy to ache, craving him greedily, selfishly, as if she would never have him again. And yet, she knew that there would come a time when she would leave. She had to. Gavenas had his life, and she had hers.
    While the time between them had been the fodder of dreams, Shoraya was shamed by her desire to do the one thing she had never permitted anyone to do to her. She had allowed Gavenas access to her soul, the place that had been fortified with goals of mastery and aims of education. She had envisioned a future of sword dancing, composed of lessons from nature, not hearth and nurturing. Shoraya had been certain of those feelings growing within her that morning as Gavenas had stirred in her arms to the harping demands of a green-haired wood walker standing boldly and uninvited before their pallet.
    If Shoraya had had her way, Gavenas would still be resting. She might have had the opportunity to make him breakfast before he gave her a proper tour of the den’s wares. Then later they could have even made a proper meal…like a loving couple.
    Shaking her head of the ridiculous, idealistic notion, Shoraya stood up and drew her swords. Gavenas had not once confessed his desire for a companion, and there she was contemplating a future with him.
    She had an objective—a journey to make and lessons to learn. She was not like the other females or males. She had a calling.
    Beginning her warm-ups, Shoraya took solace in working her wrists in circles, twirling her blades round and round in wide arcs to loosen the muscles of her arms. She let go of dreams involving bathing Gavenas by the light of the moon, accompanying him on his journeys through the forest, and preparing him supper in the evenings.
    They would be good visions to carry with her on her journey and were already more than she could have hoped to ever have. Now her true loves lay in her hands, and as she seamlessly converted the oscillation of her swords into mock thrusts and parries to imaginary enemies, her heart felt light. The weight of wanting lifted from her chest, making each breath easier and every thought clearer.
    She practiced for hours until her arms were sore and hands—already callused—ached, but she felt invigorated nonetheless, having come to a decision. Like a succulent butter and berry cake, her time with Gavenas was not one to be exploited, to be gorged upon, but one to be sampled and savored. She had had a good portion, but to attempt to stuff herself would only end in an upset stomach.
    She sheathed her swords before going down to the water’s edge. She had left her flask in her pack but was no stranger to drinking from the cup of her hands. Crouching down at the calm edge of the water, she dipped her palms into the cool lake and drank.
    She had decided. She would thank Gavenas, tell him that she would be leaving soon. That hurdle would be solidified and clear. She could begin preparations and learn to exist on her own again. It would be an ailment the same as her poisoning and the recovery would have to be done on her own, but she was certain that she could do it—that she would!
    A subtle movement off to her left caught her attention, and she turned to witness a disturbance in the muddy bank. Emerging onto the shore was the mottled purple carapace of a Grave Pincer. With its four intimidating claws raised high, it scuttled away from its burrow, making its way toward a rotted log. Several other of its kind began to pop forth from the mud, all of them drawn toward the hollow wood.
    Shoraya was riveted to her spot as crabs rushed past her to join their kind in a mutual journey.
    It wasn’t until the log jostled fitfully that a pale-gray giant of a crab, nearly three times the size of the largest purple one, peeked from its hiding place. It was a female, Shoraya was sure of it as the spectacle began with the smaller crabs, dancing, warring, showing off their strength and skills against their brothers. Everywhere she