Free Eyes of the Alchemist by Janet Woods Page B

flames licking into a conflagration of desire. If one had to have children, yes, she would want a strong man to father them?
    “When you are mine I will fill your mind with sweetness and your body with a craving only I can satisfy. I’ll plumb your very depths. Your resistance will be overcome and you will know and welcome your master.”
    What would it be like, coupled to this barbarian? She’d be helpless to fight off his superior strength as he took his pleasure of her and filled her womb with the seeds of his lust. Yet . . . he’d promised her pleasure too, and satisfaction for the cravings she fought so hard to control. There was one problem with the scenario he painted. She’d accept no man as her master, however highborn!
     Warmth flooded over her and she began to perspire. To bane with this man and his silver tongue. He hadn't laid a finger on her, yet already she was on fire from head to toe for something she’d only read about and imagined. She’d been warned about lust in the temple.
    Rule 29. A novice who lusts for carnal knowledge will burn in everlasting banefire!
    She glared at him, knowing her cheeks were glowing bright red. “Hah, you will never master me! Take every other woman for a mate. Let them swoon at the sight of you and crave for a moment of your attention. I will not pander to your vanity. I care not a gibber’s worth for legend, or appearing desirable for a puffing adder like you.”
    A great, booming laugh rang out. “You are untouched, Tiana. The blood of Lynx flows in your veins, the blood of Arcus in mine. Day and night will meet through us, as destined, each will taste of the turbulent sweetness of the other, and together will produce a son so powerful he’ll rule the universe and take his place amongst the gods. Thus it is written. Thus it will happen.”
    “Plant your god-child in another’s womb.” She gazed around her in panic, seeking a way out of a dream that had become too personal. “I do not think I like this dream state.”
    “You cannot escape the truth of the augur.” Kavan’s mouth touched against hers in the lightest of kisses. Filled with his sweet nectar, she clung to the kiss for a moment, helplessly drawn to the pleasure of it. Carnality was sent by Bane to plague the sinful. When she murmured a protest he released her. She descended gently, cradled in Kavan’s arms.
     When she woke she gave a shaky laugh, and then stretched in languorous rapture. Her body felt different, more aware of its creation and purpose, one that would have been denied on Truarc because of their lack of sustenance and the need to control the population. The dream had aroused the cravings in her she’d been taught to ignore. Longer meditation would be needed this morning to bring the uncomfortable urges under control.
    Atarta slunk back in after his night of hunting. His stomach was distended and his breath smelled of blood. He fell into a stupor on his side and she was unable to rouse him. She guessed he was glutting on the abundant prey in the forest. She’d keep him close by tonight and purge him if needed else the edge would be taken from his instinct.
    Meditation brought no peace or insight. Her mind kept wandering to Kavan and the dream. She abandoned the practice, going in search of something to fill her stomach instead. The fish in the stream eluded her, their bodies twisting and streaking through her fingers like silver lightning. She’d have to eat the herbs. When she went to fetch them, she discovered the shrub she’d hung them on had been stripped bare of them.
    She gazed at the forest, her stomach lurching in a prolonged rumble of protest. Wreathed in mist it looked forbidding. She thought she saw figures moving in the dark, twisting vapors. Forgetting her temple training she yelled. “Cabrilan thieves, may the Grand Alchemist burn you in banefire.”
    The wind held its breath. Total quiet descended on the forest, as if all the creatures that dwelt in its shelter