The Choosing (4 page)

Kyr sneers at him. It shows off his fangs, and he runs his tongue over them just to emphasize the fact that he has
them. “Yeah, but I’m going to get my tattoo in less than a week.” He gestures to the two boys beside him. “And these two aren’t even eighteen yet. How old are you now, Jerath?”

Jerath ignores him and picks his axe back up. He readies another chunk of wood on the block and swings.

“Nearly nineteen, by my reckoning.” Kyr is still talking and Jerath groans under his breath. “You might be the first one to never actually get his fangs. Imagine how—”

“That’s enough, Kyr.”

Jerath turns around at the sharp reprimand and sees one of the older boys, Caleb, walking toward them and looking angrily over at Kyr.

“Leave Jerath alone. He’s working.” Caleb stands in front of the three boys and scowls. “Which is more than I can say for the three of you. If you need something to do, then I’ve got plenty of jobs for you.”

Kyr shakes his head, looks suitably chastised, and slinks off with his two friends following close behind. Jerath smirks, enjoying the rare spectacle of Kyr being put in his place. “Thanks,” he says, and smiles at Caleb.

Caleb nods. “Don’t let him get to you. That boy’s an idiot sometimes, but relatively harmless.” He flashes Jerath a grin and goes back to his own pile of wood.

The rest of the time passes in comfortable silence, and by the time Jerath’s pile has all been chopped, his muscles ache and he’s in need of a wash. He puts his axe away in the store and heads home, hoping his mother has some water heating so he can have a hot bath.

“U
GH
!”
Serim grouses and collapses onto Jerath’s bed. “I passed Kyr on the way over here. He’s such an ass!”

Jerath hums his agreement while he attempts to dry his hair. He’s bathed and dressed now, standing in his room as Serim sighs dramatically and covers her eyes.

“What did he say?” Jerath gives his hair one last rub and then gives up on it.

“The usual rubbish.”

Jerath pushes his door closed and joins Serim on the bed. His room isn’t overly big. There’s enough room for a bed and a small table next to it, but it’s his and he loves having this little bit of privacy. He looks over at Serim expectantly and she pulls a face.

“You know what I mean—
Oh Serim, how lovely you look today. I hope you liked the flowers, although they could never compare to your beauty.
”
She imitates him almost perfectly and Jerath bursts out laughing. “As if any girl in their right mind would be impressed with that sort of talk!”

“I’m sure some might be.”

“Well if they are, then they deserve Kyr.” Serim shudders next to him and Jerath can imagine just what she’s thinking about.

“So.” Jerath pulls his knees up onto the bed and leans against the wall. “I had a very embarrassing talk with my mother earlier.”

Serim smirks and rolls onto her side to face him. “Oh, tell me all about it. I could use cheering up.”

Jerath takes a deep breath and proceeds to relay the entire conversation in all its mortifying details. Predictably, Serim laughs at parts of it, but she’s more than a little interested in the sex berries. Jerath wonders if he should be concerned when she asks if he knows where to find them.

It’s nearly dark outside when Helan pokes her head around his door and tells them it’s time for Serim to go. She gets up off the bed and bids Jerath good night, but pauses before she leaves his room.

“It’ll be okay, you know.” She blushes a little, which is so uncharacteristic for her. “The ritual, I mean. Me and Mahli wanted you to know….” She ducks her head and toes the ground. “It might be a little weird at first, but either one of us would be honored to help you through your Choosing.”

Jerath feels a lump in his throat. He doesn’t know what to say to that. Yes, it probably would be a little weird to have sex with one of his best friends, but the fact they would be willing to do that for him makes his chest ache. He jumps off the bed and wraps Serim up in a big hug, burying his nose in her thick, dark hair. “Thank you.”

She hugs him tight for a few moments more, then smiles and bids him good night. If Serim notices that Jerath’s eyes look a little watery, she doesn’t mention it, and he loves her just a little bit more for it.

J
ERATH
’
S
eyes snap open. He’s breathing heavily and his body is slick with a soft sheen of sweat. He looks around his bedroom, trying to get his bearings, and his heart sinks.
Just a dream.
It was all just a dream.

It’s still dark outside his window. It must be the middle of the night and Jerath knows he needs to get back to sleep; he has an early start in the morning. The aftereffect of his dream is still evident under his sheets, the outline of his erection reminding him that he woke up before the main event.

Jerath sighs and scrubs a hand over his eyes. He can still feel the warm, hard body under his hands. The way the muscles bunched and rippled as Jerath licked over them. It was so real that when he first opened his eyes, he fully expected to feel the scrape of fangs across his tongue.

Jerath can’t get a clear picture of the face from his dream. But he can remember the smooth lines of his body and the soft skin as it rubbed against him, the hard length rutting into his hip and the sticky trail of precome that leaked out between them. Yes, Jerath can remember all of that, and his cock twitches under the sheets as he pictures it again.

He can’t help but slide a hand down under the covers and wrap it around his length. Jerath has to bite his lip. He wants to moan out loud because it feels so good, but his mother is next door and there’s no way he wants her to know what he’s about to do.

He slowly strokes up toward the head, twisting his wrist and sliding his thumb though the wetness there. He sucks in a breath when his nail catches on the sensitive skin, and his back arches off the bed as he pushes into his fist again and again.

Jerath pictures his dream, his mystery man buried deep inside him as they complete the ritual. He feels the familiar tingling at the base of his spine; it travels up through his balls and draws them in tight. As his cock tenses, painting white-hot stripes across his stomach, Jerath imagines his fangs sinking deep into a soft, willing neck and the stinging sensation of his animal tattoo as it covers his back.

His breathing is harsh in the quiet of his room and the afterglow of his orgasm is bittersweet. He knows it will never happen like that, but in the safety of his bedroom he can still dream.

T
HE
sun has barely risen when Jerath wakes again and rolls out of bed. He hesitantly runs his tongue over his teeth just to check. It’s highly unlikely he’d have slept through his fangs coming in—it hurts, by all accounts—but he still feels the small stab of disappointment when his teeth are the same as they were yesterday. Especially after his dream. Jerath sighs but forces himself not to dwell on it. There’s nothing he can do about it anyway.

He stretches his arms high above his head, waking his tired muscles in preparation for the day ahead. He has to be up early to tend the animals for the next few days. They work on a rota system in the village, sharing out the work and changing the jobs every week. Jerath is beyond thankful for this because he has no desire to spend his life mucking out pigs and cows. He has two more days left of this rotation and he can’t wait to finish. The only upside to barn duty is that Jerath gets to finish early in the afternoon and has the rest of the day off.

Serim and Mahli have to go fishing over at one of the breeding pools later, and Jerath has plans to tag along and watch them work. He can doze in the sun in between laughing at them as they moan and curse about handling the fish. Always one of his favorite pastimes.

He’s careful not to wake his mother as he moves around getting breakfast. She worked late into the night and needs to sleep later than this. After a quick meal of bread and cheese, Jerath gathers his plate off the table and places it carefully on the side of the sink. He’ll help wash up later.

He pulls on one of his old tunics. It’s a little tatty and stained, but cleaning out the animals is dirty work and anything he wears will be ruined by the end of the day. He shuts the door quietly and walks through the peace and quiet to the barns on the far side of the village.

It’s tough getting up with the sun, but Jerath loves the tranquility that comes with it. There aren’t many others up at this hour, and instead of the usual hustle and bustle it’s soft murmurings and hushed voices. He can hear the birds in the trees as they welcome in the day. He tilts his face up to the sun as it creeps higher in the sky, breathing in as much clean air as he can, while he can.

T
HERE
are already a couple of people at the barn when Jerath gets there. He smiles when he recognizes one of them as Ghaneth, and walks over to him.

“You’re up early,” Jerath says when he’s about a foot away. Ghaneth looks up, startled, but smiles back when he sees who it is. Jerath doesn’t know him as well as some of the other boys, but well enough. He’s one of the few who has never teased Jerath about his lack of fangs or the fact his two best friends are girls.

“Something woke me up.” Ghaneth bares his teeth, and Jerath notices the elongated canines that shine brightly in the morning light.

Ghaneth grins at him and, despite feeling jealous all the way down to his toes, Jerath grins back because he knows Serim will be overjoyed with this news. He’s also happy for Ghaneth and refuses to let his envy take anything away from Ghaneth’s excitement about coming of age.

Jerath immediately steps closer and pats him warmly on the shoulder. “Congratulations,” he says and he means it. He hesitates before saying what’s on the tip of his tongue, but figures Serim will thank him after she tries to kills him. Probably. “You know”—Jerath looks Ghaneth straight in the eye to judge his reaction—“Serim will be thrilled to hear that you’ll be going through the Choosing this full moon. She likes you.”

Jerath smiles softly when he sees the blush creep across Ghaneth’s cheeks. His blue eyes shine, and Jerath can totally appreciate the way they stand out against his pale skin and dark hair. Serim has excellent taste.

Ghaneth manages a shy smile and whispers, almost too quietly for Jerath to hear, “I like her too.” Jerath is both happy and relieved to hear Ghaneth say that, even though it’s glaringly obvious.

“What about Kyr?” Ghaneth blurts out. “He’s been telling everyone that Serim will be his partner for the Choosing.” His eyes have lost some of their sparkle and Jerath hates to see it, especially over such a blatant lie.

“Well, he’s wrong,” Jerath hisses. “Serim would never agree to that, and Kyr must be blind and stupid if he doesn’t realize it.”

Ghaneth grins. “Well, I don’t know anything about his eyesight, but he’s definitely stupid.” They both laugh.

“Seriously, though.” Jerath places his hand on Ghaneth’s arm. “You should approach Serim. It’ll make her very happy.” Ghaneth nods, his cheeks pinking up again, and Jerath drops the subject so as not to embarrass him further. “Come on, then. Let’s get started.”

They both make a face as they enter the barn. Jerath will never get used to the smell.

T
HE
sun is past the highest point as Jerath makes his way back from the barn. Everywhere is a hive of activity as the villagers make preparations for the upcoming Choosing. The ritual will be held in Eladir, and the neighboring villages of Westril and Lakesh will travel here to take part. Jerath is looking forward to the prospect of new people coming to the village. They don’t interact with their neighbors often, and only those of age are allowed to observe the rituals. Even though Jerath won’t get to watch—not that there’s much to see anyway, as most of the actual ritual takes place in private—he still hopes to meet some of the new arrivals.

Jerath idly wonders if maybe this time there may be someone for him among the visitors, someone who may feel as he does. He realized a long while ago that he’s unlikely to find anyone in his own village. The thought of leaving his home, his family, and his friends isn’t pleasant, but the alternative isn’t appealing either. Jerath doesn’t want to spend his life watching others fall in love and find their other halves; he wants that for himself, even if it means he has to look elsewhere.

The ceremonial circle is set apart from the village itself, in the large grassy area just in front of the tree line. As Jerath reaches his house, he can just about see the edges of the circle, and not for the first time he wishes they were preparing it for him instead. The grass has been cut. Three great piles of the cuttings are waiting to be carried away to the waste barrels and turned into mulch.

There are eight tall wooden poles, set in equal spaces around the edges of the circle. The garlands of flowers and vines will hang from these, but they won’t be put up until the morning of the ritual.