Pure Requiem - Aja James Page 0,15

by her mother, the Dark Queen Ashlu. As a consequence of winning the Challenge against Anunit, her sister, now Medusa, our collective nemesis.

She still has that ribbon after all this time. She saved it, despite everything. Now, she wears it as a necklace in her Dark One form, and as a collar in her animal form. She never takes it off. Recently, Inanna took her to the jewelry shop and strengthened the frayed threads with silver and gold.

I wish I could give her such thoughtful gifts. But I do not have the currency of these contemporary times. Well, truthfully, I do not have currency of any time. I am “penniless” as modern humans would say. I can only create woodwork with my hands, using the materials and tools Ishtar provides me.

And I can fight. I can still protect those I love to my last breath.

Beyond that, I do not know why Ishtar continues to choose me. She can have any male she wants. More demonstrative, engaging, stronger, richer, just more than me in every way.

Except that no one in this entire universe, past, present or future, loves her more than I.

I rub my jaw tentatively. My face is the only part of my body that does not bear scars. Except the repeated blinding of my eyes until the effect became permanent despite my Pure One healing abilities, Medusa refrained from cutting into my face.

Sometimes, she said it’s because the visage is too “pretty” to ruin, and in case she succeeded in turning me, she didn’t want an ugly gargoyle in her ranks. Other times, she said it’s because she wanted to see every minute reaction on my face from the tortures she dealt, and that scarring it would prevent her from having a perfect view.

I suppose my face is something else I can offer Ishtar, though it’s far from what it used to be when we met, and even then, I doubt it was anything remarkable. She always assures me that everything I have, everything that I am, pleases her. But I…

I inhale deeply to suppress the doubts, to focus on facts.

Ishtar deserves the best. I cannot say that I would ever wear that qualifier. I do not give her everything she needs, physically, emotionally, spiritually. It has been better between us over the past few weeks, built on the physical connection we’ve rekindled with Jade and Rain’s help. But the effect of that initial surge is lessening. Or perhaps it is simply my natural tendency to pull away, to be alone, to flinch from another’s touch, even hers.

Most of all, hers.

She touches me to chase pleasure, both her own and to give me mine. But what she does not understand is that even when I find release, I seldom feel pleasure. Emotionally, I feel fulfilled that she is fulfilled. Physically, the pressure inside lessens, driven by the imperative to Nourish my Mate, to give her my strength. Spiritually, however, even though our Bond is stronger, I feel cold.

And mentally…I am not always in the moment with her. I am someplace else. I have to be, in order to detach myself from the memories that are engraved into my skin, my muscles, my very bones.

And deeper within.

The other Mated couples in the Shield are expressive with their love for each other, some more overtly than others. I am the only Mated male who remains physically removed from my female. Only when she is in her kitten form, cuddling in my arms, am I more natural at providing affection by touch.

Anything more intimate is… difficult.

Though Medusa has never managed to mount me because my body remained faithful to Ishtar’s original Claim, she’s done everything else to rape and defile me.

Everything.

I do not know if I can ever fully give Ishtar what she needs from a Mate. I will try. I will never stop trying. But it…

It fucking hurts.

Even when the pleasure is greatest, the pain is always present. I’ve been taught over four millennia that pleasure is pain, and pain is pleasure. Or if not pleasure, then something expected, a constant that has been carved into my psyche. Rain explains that I have been “conditioned” to live with pain, that if I do not have it, I do not feel alive.

This is also why testing and honing myself in mock battle with the Elite warriors and Chevaliers have helped feed my need for pain. The bruises, cuts and sometimes broken bones I receive daily from training invigorate rather than deplete me.