Nikodemus’ head hurt from trying to convince Elizabeth. He knew it was a hopeless endeavor to try and do so. She had lived her whole life under the rule of the Zironists, and he could not undo a lifetime of indoctrination in one minute. He was content that he had at least gotten her to question her views.

He began to calm down. Since he was able to vent to Elizabeth, he was able to stop concentrating on the vile activity he had participated in. He wished he hadn’t so foolishly launched into a tirade against the Zironists—it was very against his usual, calculating behavior. Indeed, it was downright stupid. And what he was about to tell her was even more stupid.

“Elizabeth…” He whispered passionately.

The woman was blushing just from the intensity with which he has said her name.

“I doubt the Zironists because I have my own set of beliefs. Maybe I can tell you about them sometime, and you can develop a set of your own.” He grabbed both of her hands in his. He had no intention of making Elizabeth adopt his beliefs; he only wanted her to stop being a Zironist.

Now that he had stopped questioning the Zironists, Elizabeth cheered up, too. She giggled. “That sounds like fun. But, um… If you believe in anything else, wouldn’t Ellia have to execute you?”

Nikodemus laid down and Elizabeth followed suite. Nikodemus wrapped his arms around her, wishing she was the only women who was with him that night. “No. I’m the Last Man. None of the tribal leaders have dared execute me for believing what I believe. They have, however, beat me roughly for expressing those beliefs, so I tend to keep them to myself.”

Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

Elizabeth yawned, closing her eyes and wrapping her arms around him, too. “I can’t wait to hear about them…” She murmured absently.

“I can’t wait to tell you about them.” He replied.

He felt comfortable, fuzzy, and warm with his arms wrapped around her. He liked Elizabeth, but, similar to every woman he had spent the night with, he did not love her. She was merely a friend and a joy to spend time with.

He had to admit, however…

That there was something about Ellia that made him want to get back into her bed and good graces more than anything. Perhaps it was the fact that she had been one of the kindest tribal leaders he had ever met, which wasn’t saying much, but still made him want to get closer to her. She acted like she wasn’t, but she was so very feminine and surprisingly soft, both physically and mentally, despite the fact that her skin was laden with scars.

That’s why she had managed to rile him up so much earlier, he supposed. He wanted her to be the same person during the day as she was in bed with him at night. He wanted to tear down her tough, cruel exterior and make her the vulnerable person he knew her to be underneath.

Perhaps it was selfish, but he wanted the opportunity to protect her, to do things for her. To be a man to her. He hadn’t been a man since he was a boy and helping his father and mother on the ranch. He was not a man anymore, and he was not a woman either. As he had expressed to Ellia, he was a barely-sentient tool used for making babies and nothing else.

He couldn’t believe he had expressed that to her. He had never been so stupid in his entire life. With tribal leaders, he had always made sure to give them everything they wanted and never overstepped his station, content to be their bull. But Ellia, somehow, had encouraged him to want to be more than a bull.

She reminded him that he not only wanted to be human, but that he also wanted to be a man.