Chapter 11
Andrew woke to voices. They were soft at first, distant enough that they blended into the fading remnants of sleep. Then clearer. Closer.
His eyes opened slowly.
The room was dim, the crystals barely glowing, the first hint of dawn not yet visible through the window. For a moment, he didn’t move, his mind still caught somewhere between sleep and reality.
Then the voices sharpened. “…he needs to come now.”
Andrew blinked and pushed himself up onto his elbows.
Three unknown higher sisters stood inside the room.
That sight woke him fully. “What—” he started, his voice rough, “what’s going on?”
They didn’t waste time. “You need to get dressed,” one of them said.
Andrew frowned, still disoriented, and instinctively glanced to his side.
The space next to him was empty. Ayla wasn’t there.
His eyes shifted toward the doorway. She stood there, already awake, already dressed. She didn’t look at him at first.
Andrew felt that same quiet weight from the night before returning. “Uh, okay,” he muttered, swinging his legs off the bed.
He didn’t have much time to think. He reached for the only thing available, quickly pulling on his boxers.
“That’ll do,” one of the sisters said.
Andrew chuckled. “That’ll—seriously?”
“Come,” she replied.
“Why so early?” Andrew asked as he stepped toward them.
The sisters exchanged a glance. “Word has spread,” one of them said.
Andrew frowned. “Word of what?”
“The ritual.”
“And why does that matter right now?” he asked.
The sister closest to him studied him for a moment, then spoke. “Do you realize,” she said, “that most women here have only ever dreamed of what you are? What you have?”
Andrew hesitated. “Uhm, my seed?”
Her expression didn’t change. “Your cock.”
Andrew pulled up his eyebrows. “Oh, that.”
“They have heard the stories and imagined it,” she continued. “And now, there is a man among us who has given one of our own the highest form of pleasure.”
Andrew stared at her, the words taking a second to fully land.
“Some will not be able to restrain themselves,” she added. “They want to experience the same.”
The meaning clicked then. “Oh.” A brief pause. “…Oh.”
Another sister stepped forward slightly. “They will come here,” she said. “They will seek you out.”
Andrew let out a short breath, glancing instinctively toward Ayla.
She stared at him blankly, her mind seemingly elsewhere.
“You need to be moved to the chambers now,” the first sister said. “Before this place is overwhelmed.”
Andrew rubbed his face, the last traces of sleep completely gone now. “That fast, huh?”
“Yes.”
He looked once more toward Ayla.
For a brief moment, their eyes met.
Then the moment passed.
“Alright,” he muttered, stepping forward. “Guess I don’t really have a choice.”
“You do not,” the sister replied. “Now, come.”
Andrew took a second, then stepped toward Ayla.
Her face softened as he stood in front of her; a trace of something sweet in her eyes.
“Thank you,” he said. “For, well, everything.”
Ayla gave a nod.
He took a step closer. She didn’t move, accepting him close to her.
His lips had turned dry. “I will be seeing you.”
Ayla smiled at that. He noticed how she tried to suppress it, but couldn’t. It was natural and warm. She locked eyes with him. “If the gods will it so.”
Andrew felt a surge of confidence. “Oh, they will,” he said. “I’ll make it so.”
She frowned at that, but there was slight amusement on her face, and he could see the twinkle in her eyes.
He almost kissed her, but held back just at the last moment. The higher sisters were watching and the Queen had forbidden intimacy between them. He didn’t want to get her in trouble.
While keeping his gaze locked with hers, he briefly touched her hand, igniting a spark between them.
Ayla gasped softly.
Then Andrew stepped backward, and followed the sisters out into the early morning, leaving Ayla’s quarters behind before the rest of the city could catch up to him.