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Tradition is not worth keeping if it causes pain.
Truth.
Our foreheads touch and in the quiet space between our mouths where not even the savage wind can reach, I whisper, “Warrior, what do you need?”
“Enough,” he says and there is so much in that one word that it hollows out my insides. I close my eyes. I follow his deep, even breath with my breath. “He cannot harm you. Nothing can.”
“Because I will never fuck you. You are too precious for that. Tonight I will breed you and I will do it as Kinan for this is my slave name and I am nothing if not a slave to you.”
“Hexa. You have lost many fights and you will lose many more. But you will not lose this one.”
“You are Peixal, the worthless. And that is all you will ever be known as to me. And you can be sure that I will be the last soul alive who remembers you. I will never speak of you to anyone and when I die, you will be forgotten. It will be like you never even lived.”
