Chapter 5: Proselytizing

Cassian stumbled as he entered Professor Lyra's quarters—which had also been his for the past three weeks. The buzz was still rolling.

The room was dimly lit by the soft glow of enchanted lanterns, casting a warm, inviting light across the space. Shadows from the flickering flames danced along the walls, creating an almost sentient audience, watching and whispering as he moved.

There was a scent in the air. Something sweet and alluring, like citrus and honey.

Lyra, who had been waiting on a bed of cushions under the moonlight, looked up, her eyes glinting with unknowable intensity. She stood and walked toward him, her movements graceful and fluid, her robe fluttering, loose and barely concealing her nakedness beneath. Her eyes never left his.

"Enjoy yourself tonight?" she asked, her voice low and sultry.

Cassian nodded, a grin spreading across his face. "Yeah, it was a good night. We…”

She reached him and put a finger on his lips and shut him up. “I don’t care. I’m angry with you.”

He tried to ask why, but his lips wouldn’t move. A warmth kept his mouth sealed. Is she using magic?

Lyra's smile widened as she stepped closer, her other hand reaching up to trace a finger along his jawline, sending a shiver down his spine.

“You know, faun have an excellent sense of smell. I know you want me. You’ve been curious for some time. I waited for you tonight but you’ve come home so late.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t realize.” Cassian blushed. She’d waited for him, because she thought he wanted her? Is this going where I think it is? She wasn’t wrong. She’d been sleeping nude in a bed nearby for three weeks. He’d looked. He’d gotten curious what it might be like.

“Maybe you’re hesitant because of these?” Lyra snapped her fingers and her furry faun legs transformed into smooth familiar flesh, with delicate feet instead of hooves. Her robe opened some and he caught a clear view of hips and valleys, and the curves path that led to her inner thighs.

He felt a new heat rise in him. Completely unrelated to his buzz. If anything, it was sobering, and not at all unpleasant. His thoughts suddenly drifted to Isolde, and there was a flash of guilt.

“Hmmm…” Lyra sniffed his neck, so close that he could smell her, the source of the earthy citrus he’d smelled before. “I can smell another woman on you. And arousal. Both for me and for her. Is this your woman? I don’t smell sex on you.”

Cassian cleared his throat, feeling like his Adam's apple wanted to crawl out his throat. “Not exactly. We’re just friends.”

“I see. So it is, for now.” Then she brushed his cheek with the back of her hand. “I have come to believe that the ways of your world must have been barbaric and uncivilized, clogged with unnecessary proprieties and restrictions that limit the enjoyment of all things that aught to be free and natural. Much like Sunnites and their prohibitive laws.”

Cassian thought about it. “You’re not wrong. The way Lunars live is definitely what we’d call liberal.”

“Yes, I see. And yet it’s such a pretty word. It means freedom, does it not?”

“It does.”

Along with the increasing warmth of her touch, Cassian felt his buzz fade steadily until it disappeared entirely. In fact, it had been doing so ever since she first started speaking to him. His eyes narrowed, suspecting there was magic at play.

She smiled a sultry smile. “I could not in good conscience invite you to my bed without knowing you would regret it later for lack of a clear head. Once you make up your mind, if you wish it, I can help you restore your level of intoxication. In fact, I might join you. You have yet to taste my mead.”

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

Cassian had to give it to her. Lyra was the poster child for consent.

“So, Cassian…” Lyra wrapped her arms around his neck. She stood on her tiptoes. Their faces were so close to each other, Cassian could see the deep blue and brown speckles that made up her irises; he could smell the sweet ginseng tea on her breath. She whispered: “Tonight is a clear moon. Would you allow me the honor of proselytizing my faith under my goddess’ sacred light?”

Isolde and him weren’t an item yet. Would this constitute a betrayal? He knew technically it wouldn’t. He hadn’t even made up his mind if he wanted to ask her out. On the other hand, he knew that she was familiar with and, as far as he knew, comfortable with Lunars and their ways. He’d never asked her if she was one. Would that make a difference? The culture of Eldara was so different from Earth’s, it left him reeling and conflicted.

“Would you let me kiss you? Perhaps it will help you make up your mind.”

For an answer, he let the distance between their mouths close, and the delicious softness and warmth of their lips mingle. It became passionate in an instant, their tongues dancing. Wet, slick. A pair of skilled dancers trying to outdo each other while still moving in synchronicity.

When they parted, he only had one thing to say. “If it’s alright with you, I’d like to try both ways.”

She scrunched her eyebrows. “How do you mean? Is this an…Earth thing?” She was the only one aside from Aria who knew who he truly was and where he came from. Hearing the word “Earth” from her lips was a shock of wonderful nostalgia that gave further rise to his stiffening conviction.

Cassian raised one hand so he could caress one of her horns. The other hand, he slipped beneath her robes, exploring the supple flesh of her buttocks, then squeezed. She squeaked a pleased moan and involuntarily pressed herself into him. “I mean, I’d like to know you…Biblically…as both faun and woman.”

She giggled. “You and your strange terms.”

Then they kissed again.

Indeed, there was plenty of mead and wine. They floated in warmth and sensual touch. They were vines entangled, hands seeking the secrets each other hid. His darkness, her light.

He was embarrassed and flustered. Then open and wild.

They rolled around the endless cushions. He felt her nails on his back. Watched her silhouetted by the moonlight, the cool rays spilling down her hair and onto his abdomen. She rained kisses on his chest, then lower, drinking and lapping the light as her eyes never left his, and her sensual full lipped smile never wavered.

She gripped his trunk and took it into her mouth, worshiping her goddess by drawing out his moans and involuntary but welcome convulsions. Then he did the same for her, and they drank from each other's nectar like thirsty desert dwellers. He the nomad, she the keeper of the oasis.

“I won’t hold back now,” she said, the corners of her mouth glistening, his own mouth slick with her essence. “Do you think you can handle it?”

Cassian barked a laugh, feeling for the first time in this world that he was in truly familiar territory. Despite his memories’ lacking. This eminently human act, he understood. “The real question is, can you handle me.”

He picked her up, then spun her around so that her back pressed against his chest. He could feel her cute bushy tail against his abdomen. It was the only part of her faun that remained after she transformed.

One hand on her breast, the other cupped on her sex below, he caressed and squeezed. He played her like a lute until she sang.

Then, when she could no longer contain her need, she reached between her legs to find where his staff pressed heavily against her, she pulled him across the slick folds of her petals.

“I need you inside me.” She said, husky voice trembling.” Then she took him inside her.

They melted into each other, and sang to the moon. He took her: both as woman, and as faun. Many times.

When they reached the peak together, Cassian felt something profound and electric. It was a deep, preternatural awareness of her. A connection that transcended physicality, a knowing of her that felt ancient and unspoken. With each thrust, he sensed her as if he was sensing himself within her. And sensing her doing the same. An infinite feedback loop that spun until they were indistinguishable from each other.

He felt…magic—pure and undeniable. It flowed through and connected all living things. It flowed in rivers beneath the ground like an indescribable network of pulsing veins. And they two were at its center, growing roots that twisted and wound together, knotting in an ancient design.

Finally, Cassian came down first from the height of their ecstasy. He could see his and her mingled essence dripping from her and feel it dripping onto him. Their heady scent filled the room.

She still quivered for some time after, locked in the throes of her pleasure. Until her eyes parted and she smiled weakly. “Cassian, what the hells did you do to me?”

That was the last thing he remembered before the pleasant exhaustion took him.