Chapter 1 #2
Kal ducked under a low branch, guiding it over both their heads.
“The King and Queen of Asteros put legal restrictions on the use of the second form. Their religion centers on the idea that it’s the lesser self.
It’s allowed voluntarily only for active procreation.
At all other times, the second form is suppressed.
Even young children are taught to ignore it, bury it. You know this.”
She did. “Yes. They teach all Asterosians this. It’s written in the godscripts. Preached in the Temple of the Rising Dawn. The second form is the Betrayer’s form.”
Kal’s tone was disapproving. “The second form is still a part of every shurii. It’s not a tumor to be carved out. The crown’s citizens are forced to neglect half of who they are. Is it really so surprising that when they finally do shift, they’re unable to control the resulting flood of sensation?”
Felíne couldn’t believe what Kal was implying. “You mean the reason they can’t control themselves is because they’re, what? Out of practice?”
“Think about it,” Kal reasoned. “It would be like raising a child on boiled potatoes, offering only small, infrequent tastes of sugar. Now imagine setting them loose in a candy store and expecting them to choose the potatoes.”
“Gods…” The notion was appalling. “What about the females? Their second forms are equally underutilized.”
“You tell me, Kitty. What did you feel the last time you shifted?”
Felíne’s jaw locked before she could incriminate herself.
Kal didn’t know she was the Prima of Asteros—the only shurii ever to have been born without a second form.
Kal thought her real name was Railah, his friend’s younger sister, whom he believed he had rescued from a life dedicated to the Fates—the women her mother and father had used as test subjects in an attempt to identify a safe method for Felíne to service the Primordial Male.
The Goddess’s prophecy demanded she bear him an heir to break the curse, and since males were only fertile in second form, she’d have to survive the exceedingly dangerous coupling.
So many of those poor Fates had lost their lives attempting to do what had only been done once before. And now Felíne had an idea of why…
It took her a moment to resurface from her thoughts before she realized that Kal was still waiting for an answer. “Never mind,” she said evasively before another question arose. “Do you have complete control over your second form?”
“I have temptations like anyone else, but yes, I do. I have not lost control in a very long time.”
“All because you didn’t grow up in Asteros.”
“The Asterosian monarchy uses its religious ideology to cripple and control its people. Those shurii don’t even know who they are anymore.
What they’re capable of. Where I grew up, we were taught to use our second forms. To train and hone our abilities.
Loss of control wasn’t common because all our people were intimately familiar with their capabilities.
A person could still do great damage if they chose, but it wouldn’t be because they couldn’t help it. ”
It was a lot to mull over. Felíne had grown up understanding the opposite of what Kal had been taught.
Granted, she didn’t have a second form to repress, so with that, she couldn’t relate.
But the message had been the same. According to the godscripts, the Goddess’s form was perfect and good.
The shurii’s second form, the form of the Godking, the Great Betrayer, was sinful and subject to base desires.
But why would the king and queen deliberately mislead their people?
Felíne’s mother, Queen Serebine, believed wholeheartedly that using the second form for anything other than bringing new life into the world was akin to eternal damnation after death.
It was the foundation of the entire Faithful Cursed belief system.
All their people were taught this. To think they were all misinformed was unfathomable.
It was one of the first things she’d be investigating when she returned home.
“Let’s assume that what you’re saying is true,” Felíne said. “Then we’ve been creating our own problem.”
“In what way?”
She paused. “Are you familiar with the Fates?”
Kal was quiet for a moment as though debating on how to answer. “In a limited sense.”
She wasn’t as intimately familiar with the Fated Mothers as Kal likely assumed, but she knew enough from what Imogen had explained to her.
“They were females who originally volunteered their services to the crown for exorbitant sums of money. They—” she mentally chided herself, forgetting her ruse.
“—we all have one job: to become pregnant. When a Fate enters a fertile cycle, they are given a tonic to prevent them from shifting to second form and then locked in with the male they’re instructed to service. ”
Kal went still behind her but didn’t speak.
“The males cannot control themselves in second form. They can’t resist their drive to mate.
And in first form, the females can’t defend themselves.
” Felíne’s voice dropped. “Many Fates were badly injured. Others died. The ones responsible for this program have attempted many different methods to ensure a safe, successful coupling. Only one has succeeded in all their years of trying. Her baby was stillborn.”
Imogen.
Felíne’s first friend. The young elder assigned to guide her through that last crucial phase of her training before her presentation to the Primordial Male. Her heart ached, remembering Gen’s testimony.
When Kal finally replied, his voice was low and angry. “How could the crown possibly justify that kind of abuse?”
Felíne steeled herself against the horrible truth. “For…” Me. “The Prima. To find a way for her to safely mate the Primordial Male. So she can bear him an heir and break the curse.”
Kal must have mistaken her bitterness for a liberated Fate’s vengeful reminiscence. He gave her a little squeeze. “Fuck the curse,” he said. “The Prima, whoever she is, can deal with her own fate. It isn’t your burden to bear, Kitty. It never should have been.”
Felíne tensed, forcing herself to keep from sinking through the saddle to be trampled beneath Sig’s hooves.
His words were meant to comfort her. He couldn’t know they would have the opposite effect.
Her guilty conscience reared its ugly head, and she cleared her throat.
“In any case,” Felíne said, “my point was that the crown has been creating its own problem. If what you said is true, that the shurii’s second forms simply needed to be used and known to prevent becoming a threat, the Fates could have avoided danger all along.
” Not only that, she realized. She could avoid the danger.
The Fates were not required. “The crown needs to hear this. Someone needs to tell them.”
Kal scoffed.
“I’m serious,” she said. “Those women’s lives can still be saved.” Railah’s life. The person Kal thought was sitting in the saddle with him. “The king and queen need to be told.”
“They were told.”
Kal’s words halted her racing thoughts. She craned around. “What? By whom?”
His black eyes met hers. Anger, pain, and a soul-deep hatred churned there. “My parents.”