Lost Prophet Pt 02

...

This series isn't that popular, but I like writing it so whatevs. I'll go back to writing regular erotica one day. I have a Mike and Max chapter that's been lingering in drafts for months now.

Less action, more world building. I'd still call this an urban fantasy with erotica in it, not an erotic urban fantasy. This is about story and character more than sex.

I should have maybe put this in the transgender category, but there's still cis gay male sex scenes in here, too. Categories are hard. I don't like sorting people into boxes. I just want a "queer" category so I don't have to pick.

Anyways, nonbinary character who uses all pronouns ahead. I am also a nonbinary character who uses all pronouns. Weird comments about enbies and the wide and wonderful ways in which we relate to gender and sex get deleted <3

...

...

Elijah

I chose the temple.

Flynn was unhappy about it, but I'd seen enough of his suffering to know that wasn't the life for me. I would happily serve with temple regulations in place. Owen gave me a list of five temples to choose from. None of them seemed all that convenient or economical for him to help me reach.

"Any of these," he said, tapping the paper meaningfully. "I'll take you to any of these."

"You can just drop me off at the closest one," I started. Owen silenced my argument with a pointed scoff.

"Shark, be nice," Flynn admonished him. "He researched the best ones. These five should be the safest. No scandals, no runaways, they don't sell prophecies, and they aren't incorporated so you can't be passed around between locations."

"You really went to a lot of trouble," I said warily. "I didn't expect you to."

"Kid, I promised Bunny that we would find you, save you, and help you find a safe place to live," Owen pointed out. "I always give Bunny what he asks for. So, take your time and pick a temple. You can use my laptop to look them up to get a feel for them. We'll visit any that interest you to see them in person."

I swallowed the lump in my throat and whispered a thank you.

...

"Will you visit me when I pick a temple?"

Flynn looked up from where he was crouched on the ground, examining a cluster of orange mushrooms. We were out in the woods. Flynn was happily explaining plants and animals we saw as we walked. I liked spending time with him like that. I'd never had a brother, but I imagined that hanging out with Flynn might be close to having one.

"I'll try," he said. "Some temples are too heavy for me to spend any real time in."

"Heavy?" I asked. He didn't wince when I asked for clarification anymore. That was nice. Like maybe he considered me a friend.

"Um, too many spells in too many layers," he said. "Like being underwater. You go too deep, it gets too heavy."

"So you'll pop?" I chuckled.

"Hmm, I'll pass out and drop all my occlusions. I'll be detected and end up in a TE cell," he said.

That was the only thing keeping me from making my choice. Flynn's mentorship was unlike anything I'd ever had in my life. Education was intentionally limited at the old temple that held me to keep us under control. Flynn was happy to teach me the esoteric writing systems and obscure rules of magic right along with all his facts about the world.

"You're coming with us to visit those two I wanted to see, right?" I asked. "Tell me which one is better for you."

"Don't choose based on me!" Flynn insisted. "Pick the place that's best for you."

"Um, Flynn," I started warily. He was back to poking curiously at the lichens and moss, observing something that was beyond me. "Maybe this is me being needy and dumb-"

"You aren't needy or dumb," he interrupted. I rolled my eyes. He gave me a pursed look, but let me continue.

"I would really like to stay in touch," I said quietly. "I haven't ever had a friend before." I felt heated embarrassment at the confession, but Flynn just gave me a crooked smile.

"Of course we'll stay in touch," he said happily. "Shark and I have to travel a good bit, but he'll figure out a way we can talk if I ask him. And I'll visit if I can."

"Then, picking a place where you can visit is important to me," I concluded. Flynn didn't say anything, but he grinned at me and tossed an arm around my shoulders. I'd gotten used to him not always knowing what to say over the months I'd spent up there on the mountain.

Owen and Flynn left for their work fairly often, leaving me to entertain myself with my crow for company. Flynn had warned me that I could pray, but I absolutely could not consecrate any holy space to my god. His goddess was tolerating my presence in her holy sanctuary fairly well, though I suspected Flynn had made some kind of agreement to keep me there. That was ok with me. My god was much less demanding than his.

I loved the quiet. I loved seeing the sky and the stars. My crow stayed close, flitting off during the days to do whatever it is that crows do. She slept perched on the mantel over the little cot Owen procured from somewhere for me. I hoped she would stay with me permanently, but I knew she was a gift, not a pet.

Flynn and I made our way back to the cabin. Owen was on the floor with his laptop on his knees and an annoyed look on his face. That was his most noticeable oddity. He always sat on the floor when he worked.

"All good, Shark?" Flynn asked. Owen sighed and pulled his headphones off.

"I can't go to the temple tomorrow," he said. "You two can go or I'll move the flights around for when I get back."

"Where are you going?" Flynn asked. He sat on the couch behind Owen and leaned down to kiss his cheek.

"Lucas got himself in trouble and, apparently, I'm his deadswitch," he said. "I've got to go to Monaco and bail him out. I'll probably have to wipe his record for him, too."

"Did you ever tell him we sniped Elijah?" Flynn giggled. God, they were cute together. Like seeing otters hold hands.

"Maybe I will once the kid is under a new temple pledge," Owen said with a shrug. "He won't be able to cash the bounty after that."

"Is there still a bounty on me?" I asked curiously.

"Yeah, you're a runaway oracle," Owen pointed out. "Even TE would pay out a nice bounty on you right now."

"Oh," I said quietly. Icy fear was sloshing in my chest. "What if those temples won't let me join? Will they turn me in?"

"Probably not. Legit temples don't have much love for prophecy factories. If they do turn on you, I'll bust you out," Owen answered. He snapped his laptop shut and stood to stretch. He and Flynn made an odd couple from the outside. Owen was notably small for a man, with features that would more comfortably be termed 'pretty' than 'handsome'. He dressed plainly in shades of unremarkable gray most of the time. Flynn, on the other hand, was tall enough to look gangly, covered in rough tattoos and scars, and wore battered, paint covered clothes. He dyed his hair whatever color he liked that month.

"So? Am I rescheduling or are you two going without me?" Owen pressed. "I need to head out as soon as possible."

"I'll take him," Flynn said. "But come home soon?"

"As soon as I can, Bun, " Owen reassured him. "You be careful."

Flynn pulled Owen into his lap to nuzzle his face into the crook of Owen's neck. Owen chuckled and stroked his bright orange hair.

"Why so clingy?" he said.

"We haven't had a night apart since we met," Flynn mumbled.

I felt awkward to witness that conversation, so I let myself back outside to watch my crow play in the wind.

...

My crow didn't love a plane ride, but she would settle in a crate that fit under my seat with only the slightest amount of fussing. I was glad about that. I didn't want to visit temples without her.

None of us liked the first temple we visited. Flynn was jumpy and nervous as a nice enough priestess walked us through to the sanctuary. We both sat in the pews and watched the acolytes performing a quiet meditation ritual at the altar. My crow paced the back of the pew irritably.

"This place feels weird," I whispered to Flynn. He gritted his teeth and nodded.

"Too many spells," he said softly. "And they don't fit together. You're feeling the discordance. Most acolytes wouldn't feel it, it's, um, like infrasound? Too low to hear, but sensitive people can feel it."

"Oof, I can't stay here," I said. A shudder ran down my spine.

"Yeah, let's go," he agreed.

We started the walk back to the hotel. Flynn rarely rented a car or called a taxi unless I asked him to. There was almost no distance that he considered too far to walk. I tried not to ask for concessions like that unless it really was just too far for me. He had some kind of superhuman resilience to him that I did not.

"Why can I feel the infrasound thing?" I asked him after a long, comfortable silence.

"It's not really infrasound," he corrected me. "It's similar. Discordant spells."

"Ok, why can I feel the discordant spells?" I amended.

"Because you're a prodigy," he said with a shrug. "Same reason I can. We're sensitive. There's something different in us. Like tetrachromacy. Some people can just perceive more than others."

The second temple we visited after a long flight followed by a drive through impossibly tall trees was stunning. Flynn grinned as he looked up at the large, timber framed building set back in the trees. More buildings could be seen beyond it, all enclosed in a log fence meant to delineate holy space more than to keep anyone out. There were aviaries at the front of the building filled with owls, pigeons, and crows all tended carefully by people in priest robes. The priests greeted us as soon as Flynn walked up to the mesh to look at the birds.

Maybe I should have been surprised, but it wasn't that shocking when the big barn owl snoozing closest to Flynn blinked awake to examine my friend. It immediately moved closer, hooting softly at Flynn as though it was greeting him.

"Hello to you, too," Flynn replied. "Oh, you're a handsome guy."

It might have been my imagination, but it almost seemed like the owl puffed up proudly at Flynn's praise. Flynn chuckled and waved goodbye to the birds to continue into the temple.

The entry of that temple was stunning in its understated elegance. No fake Greco-Roman garbage, no bored cashiers, and no vending machines stuffed with cheap offerings could be seen. An older man in priest robes approached with a kind smile.

"Welcome, pilgrims! The Bright One rejoices in your devotion," he chirped. "What can I help you find today?"

The crow squawked at him and fluttered through the door. She landed on the floor to strut over the space between us. The acolyte's smile brightened as he knelt to greet my bird.

"I suspect you are here for more than a blessing?" the man asked me as he stood.

I glanced up at Flynn. He was looking curiously around the entrance. He smiled and nodded at me. Apparently this one felt good to him, too. My prophetic sense didn't work quite like Flynn's intuition. He got more feedback than I did, and it was generally concerning the immediate surroundings, but it was also much vaguer. He had to be willing to blindly follow his gut feelings for it to work while I usually had to meditate and focus to receive clear visions. I trusted his gut way more than mine. I tried not to shake when I turned to answer.

"Yes, sir," I whispered. "May I see the Abbot?" My throat was tight with nerves.

"Come with me, this way," he said.

"Can my, um, my brother come with me?" I asked anxiously. Flynn lay a calming hand on my back, soothing me almost like a nervous horse. He didn't noticeably react to me calling him my brother.

"Of course," the man said happily. He motioned us deeper into the holy building, past pews dotted with praying parishioners, classrooms filled with people of all ages painting or playing instruments, and altars wafting scented smoke, through a heavy wooden door. The office I found myself in had a soft, insulated quality to the quiet, like being under a pile of cozy blankets.

The woman at the desk wore oracle robes. Her eyes were bright and soft behind the reading glasses that perched on her nose.

"Abbot Teresa," the man introduced her to me and left the room.

My crow once again broke the silence by hopping from my shoulder to the desk to peer curiously at the Abbot.

"Hello, little messenger," she greeted the bird. "What did you bring us?"

"I surrender myself to the mercy of the temple," I croaked out the right words as best I could. "I seek refuge from the temple that holds my pledge. My devotion to our patron remains. May Phoebus guide you in judgment."

I was staring down at my hands with my breath shaking in my lungs. The soft swish of fabric and a creak of wood told me the Abbot had risen from her desk. She stood before me and lifted my chin. I heard Flynn shift beside me to stay protectively at my back.

"You ran from your temple?" she asked. I nodded miserably. "Which one? Why?"

"The Delphi in Seattle, Abbot," I said quietly. "I served eight years without seeing the sky. People are so cruel when they know their dollars matter more than my safety. It hurts to call on so many prophecies in a day. I can't go back. Please, send me to Temple Enforcement if you judge me unworthy of a place here."

"Elijah," Flynn said softly. He sounded devastated. I shook my head at him and he fell quiet. If this temple wouldn't take me, I didn't have much hope for others.

"Eight years," the Abbot repeated softly. "And how did you get all the way here?"

"My, um, my brother here and his partner," I said. I glanced apologetically at Flynn but he looked unbothered by my sudden familiarity. If anything he looked ready to pounce the moment I might be under threat.

Abbot Teresa tilted her head to one side to examine Flynn. He stared through her with his creepy black eyes.

"You are more than you let on," she said with a chuckle.

"I'm just me," Flynn answered. "I'm here for Elijah. He's my little brother. He deserves a home that loves him. I won't let you send him to TE."

The Abbot arched a dubious eyebrow at Flynn.

"Oh? You against an entire temple?"

"Absolutely," Flynn promised quietly.

It was thrilling to hear him claim me as family. I could barely remember having one. My memories had faded under the pressures of constant prophecy. The quiet, confident threat in his voice still sent icy spikes down my back.

"Flynn, it's ok," I said softly. "If I can't serve at a real temple, TE can strip me of my oaths and send me to hard labor. At least I'll be outside."

Flynn growled, but he didn't answer. I had the strong suspicion that I wouldn't stay in Temple Enforcement custody for any serious amount of time if it came to that, though I really mean what I said. I wanted to serve. If I couldn't, I didn't have much reason left in my life.

"It looks like our lord has blessed you with two guardians," the Abbot said thoughtfully. "Your crow friend here and this brother who looks about as related to you as the crow."

The crow chattered and curiously stuck her beak into the cup of pens on the desk.

"She helped find me," I said. "Flynn fought hard to save me."

"We will shelter you, but I must investigate your story," she said. "I am bound by temple regulations to report runaways, though I can extend protection and refuse to ship you back. If your story checks out, you will be welcome here."

I was too grateful to remember to correct response. Abbot Teresa ushered us out to meet with another person in priest robes who showed us to a small room. It had nothing in it but a bed, a set of drawers, and a small desk. Over the head of the bed, a double window let golden sunshine spill all over the worn carpet.

"This is where we part, then," Flynn said quietly. That broke my reverie at the modest room. Part. Flynn had to leave. Of course he did. I didn't hesitate to throw my arms around him and bury my face in his tee shirt. Flynn chuckled and returned the embrace.

"Thank you," I whispered into the cloth.

"You're very welcome," he said softly. He gently pushed me off to dig in his pockets. He handed me a cell phone and an envelope. "Here. Shark fixed this phone for you. It will have service as long as you want a line to us. Keep it with you. Owen will be able to find you anywhere in the world if you have this, ok? My number is in there and so is Owen's. Call me? So I know my little brother is ok?"

I wiped tears off my face and nodded.

"The envelope is cash. Enough to get you back to the Greyhound station closest to the cabin or a place to lay low until we can find you. You can always come home."

"Home," I repeated softly.

"Well, maybe this is home to you now," Flynn acquiesced. "But there's a cot for you up on the mountain with us if you want it."

"Thank you," I repeated, unable to summon any other words.

"Love you, little brother," Flynn chuckled. "Be great. Be happy. Be a beaver."

"A beaver?" I laughed, it was a gross, wet sound. Flynn just grinned.

"Claim your territory and make it the home you need," he said.

"Love you," I replied. Flynn squeezed my shoulders, then he was gone.

I crawled onto the bed, sitting up on my knees to throw the window open to the summer heat. A garden full of vegetables was right outside. I heard the happy chatter of acolytes as they tended to the plants together.

I smiled and wiped away tears as the crow hopped up on the sill to caw at the puffy clouds above. She took off to hunt or play or soar up to the heavens to speak to the gods.

...

Owen

I liked Monaco just fine. It was a gorgeous city filled with art, architecture, and incredible coffee. I didn't like being summoned like a dog by Lucas and I really hated being away from Flynn. He would have liked Monaco. Lots of beautiful places for him to hide his art.

The police department was as lovely as any other building. I smiled and charmed my way through a rough French conversation, paid off Lucas's bail, and collected my very guilty looking friend. He smiled hopefully at me out on the street.

"Hey, um, thanks for coming," he started.

"Why am I your deadswitch?" I asked him.

"Because you're the one who's most likely to have a way to find me," he said. "That deadswitch isn't just in case I get arrested. I could have been in some mobster's basement or some shit."

"Hm," I grunted. "Well, you owe me."

"Ah, I'll have to really owe you," he said with a wince. "I never found that oracle kid and now I lost out on this fucking contract, too."

"What do you think happened to the kid?" I asked, making sure I sounded like I was just making conversation.

"He's probably dead," Lucas said with a shrug. "Those temple raised kids are so naive. He didn't stand much of a chance out there."

"Hm, poor kid," I said.

"Yeah," Lucas agreed. He shoved his hands in his pockets and looked around at the street thoughtfully. "You found him, didn't you?"

I laughed, but I didn't answer.

"You owe me a favor," I told him. "And you owe Bunny an apology. You better come bearing gifts next time I see you."

Lucas waved me off as we split up. I checked my phone to do some timezone math. It was pushing into evening in Monaco, which would make early morning assuming Flynn was still in Southern California with Elijah. I chanced a call.

"Shark!" He greeted me happily. "I miss you."

"Aw, Bunny," I chuckled. "It hasn't even been two days."

"You don't miss me already?" he asked with a wicked hint of teasing in his voice.

"I miss lots of things," I told him. "How's it going with you two?"

"It's just me one, now," he said. The note of sadness was unmistakable. "Elijah chose the temple in Kings Canyon."

"You ok?" I asked him. I was mad all over again at Lucas for making Flynn handle this alone despite how ridiculous that thought was.

"I'm good," he said. "It's a good kind of sad. He's so happy. That place is going to take great care of him."

"Did he take the cell phone?"

"Yeah, he, um," Flynn giggled a little on his end before he went on. "He called me his brother. I think we'll stay in touch."

"Good," I relaxed at hearing him sound so happy. "I'll be home soon, ok?"

"Ok. Love you, Shark."

"Love you, Bunny."

...

Elijah

There was a lovely, comfortable routine to life at the temple. I had my temple duties, though I was given a say in what that entailed. It was hard work, cleaning the temple, tending the gardens, caring for the birds, leading blessings and prayers, but I enjoyed the service to my lord. I chose not to join the ranks of oracles. The Abbot supported me in that. She understood why I couldn't face being an oracle again.

Tending the gardens was my favorite chore. I had never had a chance to plant or grow anything before. The priests and acolytes in the greenhouses and gardens were happy to teach me. They always appreciated an eager extra hand. The produce and flowers we grew all went to help fund our mission along with the proceeds from our small school for music and art. I couldn't help with any of the arts, but my efforts in our gardens were appreciated with a real kindness I was unused to.

I made it through a cold fall, a bleak winter and into a glorious, sunny spring. Watching the gardens wake up was a delight I'd never even considered.

I was in the sunshine with dirt grinding into the knees of my robes. Acolyte robes, not oracle robes. I couldn't bring myself to don the costume of my previous position no matter where my blessings lay. I had the loose robes tucked under my legs and through my belt in the makeshift jumpsuit we all wore in the gardens. It allowed for free movement and reduced tripping as I crawled along the row of happy sunflowers, pulling weeds and watering as I went.

"I don't think we've met?" The voice that said that was soft and warm, cozy like my perfect little room and my ever-sweetening little life. I looked up into a rugged face with pale blue eyes outlined in delicate black eyeliner and the most endearing smile. This new stranger was my height, but broad and strong. He had pretty waves of dark hair partially pulled back off his face in a bun at the back of his head. A scruff of dark stubble lined his jaw. His acolyte robes were dirty from working the garden just like mine, but his seemed to include a mix of both the masculine and feminine versions of our vestiges.

"Oh, hi!" I squeaked. My crow took that moment to save me from my awkwardness by swooping down to my shoulder. She chattered at me and fixed a curious eye on the stranger.

"You must be Elijah," the new acolyte concluded. "I was on field missions this year, but I heard we gained a new brother who has a way with crows."

"Oh, it's, um, it's just the one crow," I stammered out stupidly. Oh, gods. This guy was so gorgeous. Somehow rugged and delicate at the same time, like a statue perched on an ancient temple.

"Well, it's nice to meet you, I'm Lock," he said with a chuckle. "Short for Hemlock, because I can't be much if I'm not dramatic."

"Hemlock," I repeated stupidly. "That's a beautiful name."

Lock smirked at me and flicked his fingers in a little wave.

"I have to get back to the roses," he said. "But let's talk later? I'm curious about that crow."

"Yeah, ok," I nodded. I watched him walk away, into the setting sun like a divine being from a legend. My heart was fluttering in my chest.

I was very confused.

...

I called Flynn.

I didn't really know anyone else and I hoped he would understand.

"Elijah!" Flynn greeted me with his usual pep. It sounded windy on his end. I guessed he was either out in the woods or scouting an unfamiliar city somewhere. He often told me about the places they traveled and the strange things he found as he explored.

"Can I ask you an awkward question?" I barreled right in. Flynn wouldn't care if I failed to make small talk. He was usually better if I didn't force him into meaningless niceties.

"Sure thing, but I'll probably give you an awkward answer," he said amiably.

"I was eleven when I went into the temple, but before that, I was in acolyte training," I said. "So, um, no normal school or normal social things, right?"

"Sure, ok," Flynn encouraged me.

"Which means I have some really big holes in my understanding of the world. I don't mean this to sound, um, rude? Or insensitive? But I don't have the vocabulary to ask the right way," I said hopefully. I really didn't want to hurt Flynn.

"I always assume the best from you," he assured me. "Go ahead and ask. I'm pretty hard to offend."

"How did you know you were gay?"

"Oh, I was expecting something hard," Flynn laughed. "I thought I was gay when I had crushes on the other boys but never on girls in middle school. I knew I was gay when that stayed true when I grew up. Why?"

"I met someone so, so handsome," I croaked. "Like, I've never met anyone like him. But he was, um, pretty too? Not pretty like Owen is pretty, pretty like a woman? And kind of dressed halfway like a woman? Does that make me gay?"

"You think Owen is pretty?" Flynn giggled.

"Flynn! That's not the point!" I whined miserably.

"Ok, ok," he said, though he was still chuckling. "A few things on that. You might be gay. You might be bi or something in that realm. Maybe you're straight except for this particular person. Did you get a name from this jaw dropping hottie?"

"Lock," I mumbled. Ohh, his name felt tingly in my chest. "Short for Hemlock."

"Lock might not identify as a man," Flynn said. "They might be nonbinary or trans, maybe genderfluid or something like that. They would need to tell you. Everyone relates to gender in their own way."

"Does that make me... not gay?" I asked.

"I couldn't tell you that," Flynn said gently. "That's going to be on you to figure out. But, next time you talk to Lock, ask what pronouns they use. Then make your best effort to honor that, ok?"

"I can just ask that?"

"I always do," Flynn answered. I could practically hear him shrugging. Hm. I loved Flynn and I valued his input, but I would never trust him on social conventions. "You want to talk to Owen? He's pan. Um, like, attracted to people of all genders. Maybe he can help you more than me?"

"Oh, gods, no!" I laughed. "It's awkward enough with you. At least you actually like me."

"Owen likes you," he replied. "He's just like that. Does your temple let acolytes date each other?"

"I think so? There are a few married couples serving here," I said. I had never really considered that. Dating wasn't ever an option for me before.

"Well, I'd say you should find out and then ask Lock out," Flynn advised. "Just go slow and see how things go. Worst case, you realize you're not actually attracted to them and don't go out again."

"Maybe I'll try," I mumbled. "Will you come visit soon?"

"Sure," Flynn said. "We're in Prague right now. I'll have to see when Owen will be finished here and what he already has lined up, but I'll come soon."

"Then you can do that thing where you read someone's mind by looking at them and tell me if Lock is my destiny," I was only halfway joking.

"I can't read minds. It's enhanced perception and intuition," he said. "Magnetoreception for faithful dummies."

I didn't know what that meant, but I didn't question him.

"Ok, but you'll tell me if he's a good person and if I should go for him?"

"Of course," Flynn laughed. "I'm not letting my little brother get serious with anyone I haven't vetted."

...

Flynn

Prague presented some unique challenges. I never chose to paint historic buildings unless ordered specifically to do so by my lady. Luckily, every city built on a major river has modern shipyards full of freight containers and at least some modern buildings tucked in amongst the history. I definitely found enough graffiti around the city to feel ok adding my own.

I didn't speak any Czech beyond basic politeness. Owen, as usual, spoke enough of most major languages to get us around. I was walking along the river, balanced on the top of a concrete retaining wall, when a man shouted at me.

He didn't look like police, so I just smiled and waved. I doubted he could climb up the wall to reach me and I was certain he couldn't catch me if I ran. Not many people could.

I sat down on the top of the wall where I could dangle my boots over the water to look out at the city.

"Looks like you're pissing off the locals," a familiar voice shouted up at me. I looked over my shoulder to see Owen smoothing over whatever had that old man so angry. My beloved's charm was usually enough to get us out of trouble. The man eventually walked off irritably. I hopped off the wall to wrap my arms around Owen.

"My knight in ratty hoodie," I mumbled into his hair. "What was that guy mad about?"

"You climbing the walls like some kind of wild animal," he laughed. "My sweet, feral Bunny."

I kissed his cheek to thank him for the save. Owen smirked and ruffled my hair.

"Come on, dinner," he said. He tucked himself under my arm to walk to whatever restaurant he chose that night.

"Elijah called," I said. "He asked if we can visit soon."

"Sure, Bun," Owen chuckled. "I'm a few days from dumping this data cache and getting paid. We can head to California after that if you're done here."

"Yep. I'm just upsetting the locals at this point," I replied.

...

Lock

My year-long field mission had been fruitful. I spent it visiting other temples and commercial gardens to study their methods, exchange cuttings, and deepen my botanical studies. I learned a lot, and I loved traveling, but I missed my home and the family I'd found at the temple. Coming back to take my place as the lead acolyte in charge of our agricultural forays was made even sweeter by the cute new face in my gardens.

I was a little surprised to hear the Abbot had accepted a new devotee. Ours was a coveted temple to join. We had to manage our numbers through a rigorous application process. It was harder to join the Kings Canyon Temple than it was to get into some highly competitive colleges.

It made more sense when I met him. He practically vibrated with potential. The presence of his feathered messenger spoke of high favor with our lord. His eager interest in new subjects and willingness to jump into the often grueling work of maintaining our temple sealed the deal. I was glad he chose my gardens as his primary duty when I heard what a big help he had been.

It didn't hurt that he was adorable on top of all that. He had sweet, soulful brown eyes and a shy smile. The time out in the sun had dusted freckles over his nose and cheeks. His hair was windblown when I met him, but I imagined he kept his brown hair in a messy, short cut anyway.

I was young for my position, just twenty-three, but blessings have no sense of seniority. Lord Phoebus gave me an affinity for plants, the temple honored his choice. I guessed my new friend to be a bit younger, maybe around twenty.

I was working in what the temple termed "the botany lab", but I just thought of it as my workshop. That was the space where I tested new pigments for our art school, made medicines packed with our enhanced extracts and laced with magic, and researched the lives of our plants to continue the temple's legacy of science, art, and philanthropy.

My hands were mostly pink from my efforts that day. Pigments for the art school and to sell to the public were my focus that week. Madder roots, beets, and cochineal were scattered haphazardly around the various tables, burners, and glass vessels of my shop.

A light tapping on the door surprised me. No one knocked at the workshop. I led the program, but I didn't think of myself as anyone's manager. I was firmly of the opinion that deference to me was unacceptable in the gardens.

I looked up to lightly tell off whoever was making me feel like the boss, but stopped when I saw those big, brown eyes and freckled cheeks.

"Sorry to interrupt," he started. Elijah was carrying a large basket filled with rose petals from the greenhouses. "Maja asked me to bring this to you?"

I grinned, wiped my very stained hands on my mostly ruined robes, and hopped off my stool to take the basket.

"Ah, perfect timing!" I said. "By the way, people are always welcome to just walk into the workshop and talk to me. Just don't disturb any of the projects."

"Oh, sorry, I didn't know," he mumbled with his cheeks tinted pink like my hands.

Hm. I didn't want him to be intimidated by me.

"Don't worry about it!" I said brightly.

"What are you doing in here?" he asked me tentatively. He was trying not to look too curious, but his eyes were skipping over the various in-progress messes I left around the room.

"Come in, I'll show you!" I didn't wait. I grabbed his arm and dragged him through the doorway to the station I was working at. I explained the process of extracting pigment from various sources and described how I was attempting to highlight some of the more favorable qualities from the various ingredients by blending them along with various binders.

Elijah was rapt as I spoke. He asked concise, curious questions. I watched the shy blush leave his face to be replaced with focused interest. He started to make a suggestion based on the information I had given him, but quickly bit it back.

"No, no," I said. "Tell me. It might be the angle I'm too close to see."

"Oh, I'm not, um," he looked away from me, his cheeks growing heated again. "I haven't ever been to real school. I wouldn't know how to do any of this."

"Elijah," I said softly, trying to get him to look at me again. His eyes stayed locked on the table. "Everyone matters here. Everyone can have a chance to shine. If you're interested in the work I do, I would be happy to teach you. I usually have an assistant or two, but no one has taken to the work recently. You can join me in here and try it out?"

Elijah's eyes went wide in surprise. He blinked a few times, obviously trying to work out what to say. I just waited.

"Um, Lock," he started slowly. "Can I ask you a question? My, um, my brother said I should ask it, but he's basically feral and I'm too sheltered for common sense, so I'm sorry if it's rude."

"Sure," I chuckled. Gosh, he looked cute there in my workshop with his very serious, thoughtful expression.

"What are your pronouns?" he almost squeaked those words.

"That's not rude!" I said. He huffed a little sigh of relief. "Any of them. I don't actually care. I don't identify any particular way. Around here, you're probably going to hear folks call me either he or they."

"Oh, ok," he said a little shakily. "So I'm not being rude if I call you he? Because that's how I was thinking of you."

"Literally any of them," I assured him. "Now, tell me your idea. Let's see if it solves my problem."

We worked together making adjustments and running tests for a few hours. Elijah eventually relaxed into the work and tried his hand at mixing his own blends. There was something so alluring about the genuine excitement and fresh perspective he brought to the table.

I crushed the rose petals while we chatted about nothing in particular. He giggled when I stuck my finger in the pretty burgundy mash and used it to tint my lips.

"That's pretty," he said.

"Thanks! I prefer staining my lips over lipstick," I said. "Stays on better out in the sun."

"Um, can I ask another question?"

"We're having a conversation," I laughed. "You don't have to get permission to ask me things."

"Oh, right," he chuckled nervously. "Are members of this temple allowed to, um, to date? Like, each other maybe?"

I kept the big grin off my face. I really didn't expect him to work through his nerves so fast.

"Sure, as long as it doesn't interfere with duties or cause any problems," I confirmed. "Acolytes and priests can do pretty much whatever we want with our free time. I mean, within the bounds of our oaths, of course. Oracles can't date, of course, but that's not a temple-specific rule."

"Wait, what? Oracles can't date?"

"Right, you know, oracles of Phoebus have to be virgins," I said. "Romance is a risky choice even if they choose to remain celibate. I don't know any temple that will allow it." I was confused as to why he wouldn't know that. He was in acolyte robes, though, so maybe he just never dealt with prophets much.

"Oh, gods," he mumbled and nearly crumpled onto the stool behind him. "Of course I didn't know that. Of fucking course."

"Elijah? Are you ok?" Concern was rising in me. Elijah looked devastated and furious. "I don't understand."

"I'm, um," he looked down at his robes, now splotched with pink like mine, and shook his head. "I spent eight years in a Delphi. The oracle chain? I'm an oracle. The Abbot just let me choose other duties. I didn't want to give prophecies after all that. I felt sick just picking up the oracle robes again. But my oaths are oracle oaths."

It was all clicking into place.

"That's why you said you're too sheltered," I said slowly. "You pretty much went into isolation as a kid."

"Right, and before that, my family had me in acolyte training. They made sure they got the best price for me," he said dismally. "So no, I don't know really basic things like that. No one ever taught me anything useful."

"Oh, Elijah," I murmured softly. "That's horrible. I'm so sorry. You can always ask me if you don't understand something."

He just sighed and shook his head.

"It's fine. I'm fine," he insisted quietly. "It's not your job to teach me."

"It actually is my job to teach you," I pointed out. "These are my gardens, you work under me as long as you work in the dirt."

"Oh, right," he said awkwardly. "I'll get out of your hair. Thanks for teaching me about the pigments."

"I thought you were my new assistant?" I said. "You're not in my hair, you're doing your work."

"Can I be?" he said in a cracked whisper. "I really enjoyed this. I think I could be good at it with some study."

"You have a knack for it," I said. "Maybe you have more blessings than you realized?"

"Maybe. I don't know," he said shakily. "I wanted to, um, well, can we just be friends? Since I can't, um..."

"Elijah, yes, that's fine," I said carefully. "But listen, ignore the dating thing for a minute. Prophecy was never supposed to be forced on you in the first place. Your oath is supposed to be a choice. Pray. Meditate. Speak to the Abbot and the other oracles. Lord Phoebus is kind. He asks for sacrifices, but he still wants us to rejoice in his gifts. It doesn't sound like prophecy offers you much joy anymore. Definitely don't change anything because of me, just know that you may have options."

"Thank you," he said softly. "I'll think about it. But, while I think, I would love to keep working as your assistant."

"Then welcome to the workshop! Hold onto those stained robes, we get pretty messy in here!"

...

Owen

Flynn was asleep on the couch in our cabin, a gangly pile of well muscled, lanky limbs and a cute, peaceful face. We had a flight to Fresno later that week. We both agreed we would prefer to shake off our jet lag at home before visiting Elijah.

I carefully crawled onto the couch and into Flynn's arms to lay my head on his chest. Moving slow was key. He wouldn't panic if he knew it was me, but startling my Bunny awake would drop him right back to his previous life on the streets. I must have gone slow enough, because Flynn giggled and squeezed me closer.

"Hmm, I think there's a sexy man in my arms," he murmured into my hair. I reached up to tangle my fingers in his lime green hair, tugging slightly until he groaned.

"You want to get fucked, pretty boy?" I purred. Flynn shivered with goosebumps. "You want to be mine?"

"I'm always yours," he giggled and dragged me up to kiss me. "Yours in all the ways I can be, at least."

I let Flynn dominate that kiss and enjoyed the way his strong, talented hands mapped the curves of my body with soft caresses. He kissed his way down to the sensitive skin of my neck, mumbling something I didn't quite catch.

"What's that, Bunny?" I panted.

"Like the mountain creeks, wild and free and sacred," he said. "That's how I feel when I kiss you. Like wading in the creeks."

"Sacred? Thought I was a heretic," I giggled breathlessly as Flynn reached under my shirt to pull it off. He kissed and nipped a slow, tingling trail down my chest.

"Together, we're sacred," he said.

"Sounds blasphemous, Bun," I laughed.

"Only if I worship you," he said with a shrug. He licked a hot circle around one nipple. "I'm allowed to acknowledge the holiness outside of my lady. Love is holy. Being your treasure is sacred."

"You are my precious treasure," I purred to him. I took over then, gently stripping off his tee shirt and returning his earlier attention to my chest. I liked Flynn to fuck me like a starving man at a buffet, but fucking him was a divine privilege as far as I was concerned. I took my time to make sure he was falling apart. He whimpered beneath me, going limp and letting me manipulate his body to remove the rest of his clothes. I dropped my jeans and boxers as quickly as I could and crawled back over my man.

"You pretty, pretty boy," I sighed. Flynn grinned a crooked, blissed out smile and stroked my cheeks.

"You're pretty. Pretty like a snake," he murmured. "Dangerous and pretty and quick."

"A snake?" I chuckled. "Hm, sexy."

"Yes," he agreed. "You are. Very sexy."

I slid down his body to lick the drops of precum off his hard, flat stomach. Flynn groaned as I kissed his tip, moving on quickly to swipe my tongue over his hole. He giggled and shifted, chasing my touch. That was my Bunny, always eager.

Teasing him never lasted very long. Flynn's desperate, needy responses urged me to work him open slowly, but steadily. I had my lubed fingers in him and my tongue on his sack when he lightly tugged on my hair.

"Shark, please?" he gasped. "Fuck me, please?"

"You never have to beg me, baby," I chuckled. I crawled up his body to look into his piercing, dark eyes. "You know all you ever have to do is ask."

"Fuck me, Shark," he panted. His unsettling gaze never left my eyes, his lean body was trembling below me. "I want you inside me."

I groaned and eased into him. Slowly, always carefully. My Bunny didn't like pain. He liked knowing he was safe in my hands. He loved knowing he was my beloved treasure. Flynn's eyes rolled back as he moaned happily, a sweet, dopey grin on his face.

"You feel so good," he gasped.

"You beautiful boy," I sighed. "My perfect, wild man. My feral artist."

We moved together, a graceful undulation as old as time. Flynn grasped the back of my head to drag my mouth to his, but he was too far gone to really kiss me. He just looked into my eyes and whined. I reached between us to stroke him. Flynn gasped and grunted, his hole tightened on me, spasming with his orgasm and dragging me right along.

Flynn held me while I panted, our skin pressed together, slick with sweat and his cum between us. He played with my hair and peppered kisses over my cheeks while I caught my breath. A soft, gentle moan escaped him when I slowly pulled out.

I was going to get some towels for us, but Flynn tightened his arms around me, refusing to let go. I chuckled and relaxed into him, nearly completely curled up on top of him. Flynn didn't care. That was exactly what he wanted. I was lightly dozing off in his arms when Flynn's giggle shook me.

"I think you got cum on the couch," Flynn said.

"I got cum on the couch?" I responded in mock outrage. "You're the one refusing to let me clean us up."

"You got cum on the couch because it's your cum leaking out of me," he giggled back at me. He surprised me by swinging his legs around to stand up, keeping me cradled in his arms.

"Ah, yes, you're big and strong," I chuckled, rolling my eyes. It was impressive. I just didn't like being reminded that I was so small. "Shower, Bun. Let's get cleaned up."

Flynn laughed again and carried me up the stairs as though I weighed nothing.

...

I definitely had to give it to Elijah, he had picked a truly magnificent place to call home. The temple was a sprawling compound of buildings with a handsome wooden main building acting as an entrance and housing most of their public operations.

We were, apparently, expected. A priest greeted us by name. He led us through the big building and out into expansive gardens, past steamy looking greenhouses, to a smaller outbuilding.

"Flynn! Owen!" Elijah shouted as soon as we entered the single large room that looked somewhere between a lab and chaotic mad scientist lair. He threw himself at Flynn, wrapping his arms around my man in a big bear hug. Flynn laughed and happily returned the hug.

"I'm so glad you came!" Elijah mumbled into Flynn's jacket. He eventually let go and grinned sheepishly at the other, fondly smiling person in the lab. "Um, Lock, this is Flynn and Owen. Guys, this is Lock. He runs the gardens. He's teaching me about botany."

We all exchanged greetings. Flynn shook Lock's hand and tilted his head to one side. There was that familiar shift in the air as Flynn looked deeper than Lock's scruffy face. That surprised me, Bunny could definitely be more subtle than that. Lock blinked in surprise, then arched one sculpted eyebrow.

"Looking for something in particular?" he asked.

"Just checking that you're going to take care of my little brother," Flynn said with a shrug. "Making sure I brought him to a pack and not a hive."

"A member of the family and not a drone?" Lock guessed. That was impressive. Not many people figured out Flynn's metaphors that fast.

"Yes, exactly," Flynn agreed.

"And? What's the conclusion?" Lock laughed.

"And I'm pretty sure I can trust you," Flynn said. "Elijah is important. He's special. I won't let him get hurt."

"Well, I'm not planning to hurt him," Lock said, casting a fond glance at a very awkward looking Elijah.

"Um, Flynn," Elijah interrupted the mild tension hesitantly. "We're making pigments for paint. Do you want to see?"

Flynn absolutely lit up in delight. He and Elijah began an examination of the various jars and vials of colored substances in the room. I watched in amusement as Flynn and Elijah fell into their usual, curious natures. My man was adorable when he was so enthralled by a new wonder.

Lock looked similarly amused and charmed, though he only had eyes for Elijah. Interesting. I slid over next to him to do my own evaluation of Elijah's new friend.

"Sorry about Flynn dipping into your head," I said quietly. "He's protective of the kid." Lock dragged his attention from Elijah to me.

"It's all good," Lock said. "Eli didn't tell me everything, but it sounds like you and Flynn went through a lot of pain to get him out of something really dangerous."

"Well, Flynn did," I said. "I just helped."

"So, Flynn," Lock started. "What temple does he belong to?"

"That's a question you shouldn't ask," I said amiably enough, but Lock definitely picked up on my warning.

"I'm not in the business of policing other acolytes," Lock scoffed. "Especially not the man Eli claims as his only family."

"Good. Because I'm definitely in the business of doing anything to protect Bunny," I said mildly. "Absolutely anything. He's the one with the morals and I'm already a criminal."

Lock rolled his eyes at my threat. That was ok. I was used to being underestimated. I could at least consider him fairly warned.

Bunny interrupted us by bouncing over to me to excitedly show me some kind of ink Elijah was working on.

"Look! Charcoal, rosemary, and clove," he said. "Perfect protection ink. I never considered layering the qualities of ink ingredients with my spells. Like attenuation with both a maze and shielding?"

I didn't understand so I just nodded. Lock understood, though. He grinned at Flynn and started a conversation about sigil construction and the various inks he produced. Elijah frowned and looked away.

"Kid? You ok?" I asked him quietly.

"I missed so much," he sighed. "I can help make the pigments and inks, but I have no idea how to do what Flynn and Lock do."

"Hey," Lock slipped next to Elijah and bumped his side with an elbow. "You're learning. That's ok. I'm always learning, too."

"Every acolyte is always learning," Flynn pointed out. "It's part of the role. We're supposed to be scholars."

Elijah smiled gratefully at them and hesitantly joined the conversation.

...

Elijah

Lock and Flynn got along great. I kind of expected that. Lock's interests were more focused than Flynn, and Lock wasn't quite as odd as Flynn, but they both shared a sharp intelligence and love of science. Lock and Owen seemed to have some friction, but they were laughing and chatting eventually. That didn't really surprise me. Lock's unflappable confidence was a good match for Owen's caustic ways.

We left the workshop to see the rest of the grounds. Owen waved me and Flynn off into the towering sequoias with some comment about letting us catch up.

Flynn loved the trees as much as I did. He grinned up at the canopy hundreds of feet above us.

"Glory," he whispered happily.

"Hey, Flynn," I started. "I have another big decision to make. Can I get your perspective on it?"

"Sure," he answered. We settled on the forest floor, leaning back against one of the arboreal giants.

"Well, I guess my first question is what you think of Lock," I said.

"I like them a lot," Flynn answered. "They have a nice soul. Smart and soft and warm. Like a fox."

I sighed in relief. I hadn't quite realized how badly I wanted Flynn to approve of my new friend. I didn't trust my gut, but Flynn had never led me wrong.

"Um, so, I can't date and still be an oracle," I said quietly. "Not that I really want to be an oracle. I was going to just avoid giving out prophecies ever again by hiding out in the gardens. But oracles of Phoebus have to be virgins. Apparently the oath I took as a kid included celibacy, but I didn't really understand that at the time. I'm not acting as one now, the Abbot let me join the acolytes in my duties, but my blessings still lie in prophecy."

"And you can't break your oath," Flynn concluded.

"I might be able to modify it, apparently. If Lord Phoebus allows me, I can sacrifice my prophetic blessings and take a new oath," I said. "It's... well, I've been praying and meditating. I think I'll be allowed to change my role, but there's no way to know for sure. I might choose to do it and become an oathbreaker if Lord Phoebus refuses a new oath from me."

"Oh," Flynn said softly. He looked thoughtfully up at the trees for a while. I let the silence linger. Flynn would talk when he figured out what needed to be said.

"I can't tell you what to do," he finally said. "But I can assure you that you won't be homeless if the worst happens. You can always come back to the mountains, or Shark will set you up somewhere on your own, if you want. It would actually be easier for you to live on the mountain with me if you weren't sworn to another god. My lady doesn't like sharing."

"That helps," I said. "But I don't want to break my oath entirely. I want to serve, I just want to serve as an acolyte and, um, maybe to have someone like you and Owen have each other. I would like to not be alone. I spent so much time alone. It might not be Lock, but I would like a future with a partner who loves me. It would be so much easier if I could just ask like you can."

Flynn's eerie, dark eyes snapped back to me. I felt the brief pressure of his magic as he probed something about me.

"I can definitely break your temple limits," he said. "But I might be able to just lift them temporarily. They should be separate from your oath. You have two marks, right?"

I just stared at him. Was that actually possible? Flynn didn't lie, he definitely thought it was an option. I pushed the sleeve of my robes up to show him the two marks on my upper arm. They were brands given to me by two disinterested priests in a room full of about a half dozen other kids who were just as confused and scared as me.

Flynn squinted at the marks, tilting his head in a way that reminded me of my crow. He reached out and tapped the lower scar.

"This one," he said. "Let me take a picture, I'll need to do some research."

I stood there, still dumbstruck, and let him snap a few pictures with his phone. He looked them over, then nodded to himself and tucked his phone away.

"I do have one piece of advice," he said thoughtfully. "Stay in that workshop and learn everything you can from Lock. There's something in there for you. There's a reason you met Lock even if that reason doesn't end in romance."

"Well, that sounds positive if vague," I laughed.

"Eh," Flynn shrugged. "It's intuition. It's always vague. Go pray for a vision if you want a better picture of your future."

...

Lock

Elijah was quiet after his friends left. We usually spent our time in the workshop talking through problems, discussing the projects at hand, or just chatting as though we had known each other for decades. Instead, Elijah accepted instructions with the barest response and got to work in a gloomy silence.

"Hey," I carefully lay a hand on the small of his back and took the tools out of his hands. "I'm sure Flynn will come back soon."

"It's not that," he said. He winced and looked away from me. Aw, the poor guy. The conflict and fear in his soft brown eyes sent an ache through my chest.

"Then what? You can talk to me," I said gently. "We're friends, right?"

"What if I told you we could be more?" he whispered tightly. He was refusing to look at me at all.

"Eli..." I started slowly. Oof. I liked the guy. I definitely could see how well we would fit together. But the absolute last thing I wanted was for him to risk changing his oaths for me. "I told you that it might be possible to change your oath because you obviously hate the idea of acting as an oracle again. It has to be something you do for you, though. You won't have a very good chance of success if your motives are just, um, a crush."

"That's not the only reason," he mumbled. "I can't go back to oracle duties. It's... it hurts. I can't explain it, exactly, but just thinking about sitting there in the oracle chamber... with no one to help me if something goes wrong, angry people who blame me for bad visions. Some of them hurt me, no one cared as long as I could work. It's so lonely. Locked in, no windows, away from the sky..."

He huffed a shaky breath and swallowed hard. I didn't realize fast enough to stop him from sliding off the stool to the floor. He put his face to the concrete and shuddered.

I sat by him and rubbed gentle circles on his back. I'd seen enough panic attacks during my work with pilgrims to recognize it.

"Eli, take a deep breath for me," I said softly. He fought the sob in his throat in his effort to follow instructions. "Listen to my voice, ok?"

He muttered something that sounded affirmative. His crow fluttered into the shop to land beside us on the floor and glare accusingly at me.

"You're in the workshop with me," I assured him. "No one can hurt you here. I won't allow it. Tell me what you can feel."

"The... the floor?" he said doubtfully.

"What does the floor feel like? Can you smell the concrete?"

"It's cold," he said. "It feels gritty. I must have forgotten to sweep yesterday. It smells like dust."

"What else do you notice in this room?" I prompted him.

"Your hands are warm," he whispered. "And your voice is so soft and deep and nice. You always smell like plants and potting soil."

"Just me?" I teased him gently. "There's nothing to notice in this room but me?"

He tilted his head to look up at me. A sweet little smile lit his teary face. He slowly sat up with my help, though we both stayed on the floor. I tentatively pulled him close to my side and wrapped an arm around him. Elijah didn't hesitate to lean on my shoulder. The crow hopped up on the stool above as though she planned to keep an eye on us.

"Lock, I might have a chance to ask Lord Phoebus directly if he will allow me to take a different oath," he said after a few minutes of silence.

"How would you do that?" I asked him warily.

"Flynn," he answered. "He's, um, well, he knows more about the technical construction of magic than anyone else I've ever met. He can break my temple limits and leave my oath intact. He offered to do it and let me live as an unregistered acolyte like he does. I didn't want that. I like life in a real temple. He's researching a way to just lift the limit temporarily, so I can just ask and be done with all this worry."

I couldn't answer that right away. I waited until I was sure I could answer him succinctly and calmly.

"You can't do that on temple grounds," I said.

"I'm really shocked you aren't telling me I can't do it at all," he answered. We were still sitting close together on the floor. I had the urge to pull him into my lap. I wanted more than anything to hold him and soothe away the rough, shaky sob in his throat.

"That's between you and Lord Phoebus," I replied. "You should definitely pray and meditate on that before you decide. Either way, you can't do it here. You and Flynn will both end up at TE, probably lobotomized and sent to rot somewhere."

"Hmm," Elijah hummed thoughtfully and subtly tried to get closer to me. I gave in and pulled him fully into my arms. Elijah sighed as he lay his head on my shoulder.

"You really think this is just a crush?" he murmured near my ear. "All I see in this room is you, Lock. Just you and your kindness. You and the way you look at me. You and your strong arms, your pretty eyes, and your sweet laugh. The way you light up when you teach me new things and the way you listen to me."

Oh, gods. I lowered my head to rest my face in the nest of his hair. He smelled like the shampoo we all used, but there was a distinct, warm Eli smell under that.

"You can't do this for me," I whispered. "Please. I won't forgive myself if you end up an oathbreaker for me."

"It's not just for you," he assured me. "It's for me. So I can have a life I choose. If it's up to me, that life is going to include love. Someone to live life with. Someone who I can cheer for and stand beside. Someone who loves me. I don't want to be alone."

"Eli..." I swallowed hard, trying to remember to be the steady one. He needed me. I could do it. "What would Flynn need to do to lift your temple limits?"

"I don't know yet," he admitted. "But, if I'm allowed to travel, finding a place to do it shouldn't be a problem."

"You can travel, but you're only halfway through your initiate years. You would need another acolyte to go with you," I told him.

"What, they think I'll run away?" he laughed roughly.

"No, young acolytes are vulnerable. There are people out there who want to prey on their innocence," I said. "But I'll go with you if Flynn figures this out. I want to be there."

"Oh, Lock," Eli sighed and pressed his face to my shoulder. "Thank you."

We were quiet for a while. I stroked his back and just enjoyed the moment. Eli in my arms. It felt right. We fit together just like I knew we would.

"I should probably tell you how I got away from my last temple," he said regretfully.

"You can tell me anything, Eli," I assured him.

He took a deep, slow breath, and quietly began the long, frightening story of how he ended up there in my favorite place in the whole world with me.

...

Flynn

I didn't make a habit of sneaking into restricted libraries much at that point in my life. I didn't have to carry everything I owned on my back anymore. My esoteric library in the little cabin I shared with Owen was slowly growing into something really impressive. But, occasionally, I still needed to acquire some forbidden knowledge that wasn't so easy to access. These particular tomes were hidden away in an ancient temple somewhere on the coast between the Giant's Causeway and Londonderry.

The temple was a stately thing that looked more fortress than house of worship. I supposed it was old enough that it likely functioned as a fortress during the early days of largescale religious unrest. The international truces between temples were largely based on monetary interests, but they at least stopped the bloodshed.

I would need to fully occlude myself. Being unnoticed on the street was exhausting. Doing it in a temple was painful and dangerous. I could push through it, but only if my goddess decided to have mercy on me. I knelt in the dirt some distance away to pray.

You're still using my blessings to help the messenger's prophet?

I winced at her voice and the familiar shocks it sent rolling down my spine.

"He's important to me, lady," I said. "Like family. I never had a family."

Why would you need a family, zealot? Do I not love you enough?

It still hurt, but there was a note of humor in her tone.

"I must be greedy, lady," I joked hoarsely.

You haven't failed me. You've proven yourself my loyal zealot in the face of your heretic's blasphemy. I will allow you to help the prophet. The messenger is an ally, after all. His prophet may make a good ally, as well. Go steal the warmonger's book. I will aid you, but I expect you to be clever. I will not tolerate stupidity from you.

That was curious. She never gave me hints like that. Not knowing which goddess I served was part of my oath. I had plenty of suspicions, but it wasn't something I pursued.

"Thank you for your mercy, lady," I whispered and wiped the blood from beneath my nose before it could stain my shirt. She was gone again. I waited until I was certain my joints would respond before I pushed myself off the ground, called on the full occlusion spell I used to hide completely, and made my way to the temple.

A temple dedicated to a warmonger in ancient Celtic lands was exactly what I expected. The cults of the god Neit were largely cults of shadow. Their practices were not open to outsiders, though the temple offered the usual storefront of standard blessings and knickknacks, a small public altar, and, interestingly, a small tavern offering free aid to travelers. I slipped through the store, avoiding the packed shelves and the brown-robed priest who tended them. I found my way back through their private sanctuary, a place decorated in weapons and smelling of incense, copper, and bile.

Intuition nudged me to where I needed to be, though it was hard to hear it over the roar in my ears and aches in my joints from the heavy occlusion I was holding. I went as quickly and as silently as I could, following the tug of my intuition to the library.

It wasn't guarded or locked, though there were burned out sigils on the door suggesting it might have once been protected with spells. Either knowledge was free in that temple or the acolytes knew better than to even attempt to learn what their god would not allow. I pulled the books I needed one after another until I heard the soft voice of my goddess in my head again.

Be still. Be silent.

I obeyed immediately, wishing I could at least sink to my knees. I was having a hard time keeping my limbs from trembling. An overexerted shudder was working its way through my bones.

The acolyte who must have been the librarian entered. She began tidying papers on the table while I held my breath and tried not to sway on my feet. There was definitely blood on my face. Hopefully, the smell of it would be hidden by the general visceral scent of the temple.

The acolyte paused and cocked her head to one side. Her eyes scanned the room, thankfully skipping right over me and the stack of books in my arms. She shook her head, smiling at herself as though she had given in to some silly paranoia. She eventually took her papers and left again. I swallowed a shaky, pained whimper, waiting for my lady to release me.

Go now, zealot. If you are caught, I will forsake you.

That was enough to spur me through the stasis of pain and carefully, methodically make my way back out through the temple, through the store, and as far as I could get out on the grassy coastal lowlands before I dropped the spell and sank to the ground.

"Glory," I panted in gratitude to my lady. I don't know how long I sat in the grass before my phone rang.

"Hey, Shark," I said roughly.

"Where are you Bun? I'm as close as I could get to your location on the roads," he said. "Help me find you."

"Straight ahead, walk towards that big, round concrete thing," I said without thinking too hard about it. "I'm east of it, like fifty yards."

Owen found me a few minutes later. He helped me up to my feet, took the books, and made me hang onto his arm to walk back to the road. I sank gratefully into the soft passenger seat.

"Did you get what you needed?" he asked. I knew Owen didn't like seeing me hurt myself with my magic, but I didn't like the danger he put himself in, either. We had a tenuous agreement to stay out of it, help when we could, and only make a big fuss in life or death situations.

Granted, I wasn't sure if Owen really knew how dangerous a full occlusion in a temple soaked in ancient spells really was. I hadn't thought to explain it to him.

"I got them," I told him happily. "Now I just have to figure out how to read them."

"I'm sure you can do it, Bunny," he said fondly. "Close your eyes. Just rest now. I'll get us home."

...

Elijah

After the day that Lock held me and let me cry, something changed between us. I entered the workroom a few days later to find him carefully cutting the gooey hearts out of aloe leaves. The big, delighted smile he gave me made my heart jump.

"Hey!" he said, dropping the knife and wiping his sticky hands on his robe. I stood transfixed by his pretty, graceful smile. He caught me immediately in his arms and wrapped me in a hug that somehow solved all the world's problems for those few seconds. I clung to him when he tried to let go, dragging him back to me. Lock chuckled and let me squeeze him back for a while longer before he gently pried us apart.

"Open doors," he said softly, flicking his eyes to the door to the lab which was, indeed, open as always.

"You sat on the floor and held me for like an hour a few days ago," I pointed out.

"Well, you had a panic attack," he said. "I had a reason."

"You had an excuse, you mean?" I prompted him. Lock smirked.

"Exactly. I'm not the only one who knows you're an oracle. You don't want to end up at honor court," he warned me. I sighed, but he was right.

"What are we making today?" I asked. Lock pulled me closer than was strictly necessary to explain aloe vera, its cultivation, properties, and varieties.

He was in the process of making burn salve for the temple to donate to other temples that provided healthcare to pilgrims. He told me about how he started magic in his teens in the free clinics as a volunteer healer pledged to the work rather than to any specific gods. He slowly found his way to the gardens of Phoebus where he used that healing blessing along with his other talents to infuse the medicines he made.

I took over cutting the leaves so Lock could do the more complicated work of measuring out the additional tinctures, herbs, and additives he would include to make the salve more effective. He finished that before I processed all the leaves and came to stand behind me with his hands resting on my hips. I shivered and leaned back just enough to feel the warmth of his broad chest at my back.

"Lock," I murmured. He growled softly and moved away.

"Sorry," he mumbled at me. "It's hard. I'll do better."

"Don't apologize," I whispered.

"Eli, I have to do better," he said gently. "It's not that I want to, it's that I have to. Maybe there's a future for us, but it can't be right now. You'll be excommunicated if you break your oath. I'll never see you again."

"Right, right," I answered and shook myself in an attempt to knock the needy burn in my chest that would only be extinguished by Lock holding me in his arms again.

We got back to work in an uncharacteristic but comfortable quiet. I suspected we both had a lot to think about. I carefully processed the rest of the aloe and began loading the sticky hearts into a large strainer.

"Lock," I said as I tossed slippery handfuls in to mash out the solids. "I can take another duty. I don't want to make your life hard."

"No!" Lock gasped. He nearly dropped the fragrant, boiling pot he was tinkering with in his haste to push it off the hot burner. He grabbed both of my hands, ignoring that I was still covered in aloe goo, and looked desperately into my eyes. "You're not making my life harder. Please, please don't go. I can't hold you, but we can at least be here together. I can be satisfied with that. At least I have you in my life. At least I can teach you about plants and be your friend."

"You're so much more than my friend," I said quietly. "You know that, right?"

"Right now, I'm just your friend," he said firmly. "When Flynn gets back to you, maybe we'll be something else."

"You might be able to help Flynn, actually," I said and begrudgingly pulled my hands back. I did my best to wipe the sticky green slime off my hands before digging my phone out of my robes to show Lock the latest pictures I got from Flynn. He hadn't sent them to ask me for help. In his usual flighty ways, he sent me the pictures along with a bunch of silly shocked emojis because he thought I would recognize how strange the mystery writing in the pictures was. I had no clue. It looked like all the other incomprehensible magical languages I had seen before.

"Oh, shit," Lock mumbled and took my phone. He zoomed in on the pictures, squinting at the screen and mumbling to himself. After a bit of studying, he grabbed a piece of paper and wrote out something that looked equally as confusing.

"Send that to Flynn," he said. "I can't read it, but it looks really similar to some of the surviving Sporoi and Veneti dialects that were compiled into proto-slavic sigil construction."

"I, um," I stammered. I took a picture of the page and handed my phone back to Lock. "You'll need to type that. I don't know what any of it is."

Lock fell quiet. I heard my phone buzz with texts as he and Flynn had some kind of conversation. Lock was grinning with a hint of the manic delight I often saw on Flynn when he was studying magic. I went back to straining the aloe.

"I have to come up with a reason to be gone for a month or two," Lock said suddenly. I looked up from my work, feeling a devastation and shock that surprised me in its intensity.

"You're leaving me here?" I whimpered.

"Oh, oh no, Eli," he gasped and gently reached for me. His rough fingers traced ghostly tracks over my jawline as he drew me into his encompassing attention. "We're both going. Flynn and I think the two of us have a better chance at cracking this together. You and I are going on a field mission to wherever they want to meet us. I just have to come up with some research to bring back."

"I'm sorry," I mumbled. There was heat rising in my cheeks in embarrassment of my overreaction. Lock just stroked my cheek and shook his head.

"Shhh, we're both on edge today," he chuckled. "Some time away from temple eyes will help us sort this out, too."

My heart was skipping at how close we were. He glanced at the door and regretfully let me go again.

My phone buzzing again made me jump in surprise. Lock laughed as the tension leaked from the room. It was Flynn calling. I answered the phone on speaker.

"Shark wants to know if an invite for travelling academic fellowship at Kew would work for a reason to travel," Flynn said without any greeting. "They have a two month program that starts soon."

I didn't know what that was, but Lock was ecstatic.

"Wait, a real invitation? Like, I could actually access their labs and study something?" he asked in a voice that clearly wanted to be a shout but was relegated to a squeaky whisper.

"Yeah, you would need to write a proposal real quick, something you can actually study and show some results on in two months," Flynn said. "We'll have to crack these books in the off hours."

"Hold on, how would I get an invitation? I haven't even applied?" Lock said in confusion.

"Owen said he can do it, so he can do it," Flynn said. There was a shrug of disinterest in his tone. He clearly thought the how was not important. "Would that work? A few months in London? We'll find a place for you and Elijah to stay."

"Yes! Absolutely yes! I have the perfect proposal. I'll write it up and send it over today," Lock was beaming with glee. I still didn't understand, but if it made Lock so happy then it had to be good.

...

We traveled in street clothes. I wondered about that considering we were travelling on our temple credentials instead of passports. Lock said it was easier if we just fit in.

Lock still stood out, though. He looked stunning in fitted jeans and a pretty, flower printed shirt that somehow both flattered his shoulders and accentuated a narrow waist I'd never seen in his temple robes. He had his eye makeup on like he always did and a charming, confident smile that disarmed anyone who challenged us.

Granted, I was carrying a crow in a cat carrier. I wasn't exactly fitting in, either. I was grateful that her status as an envoy endorsed by a temple meant she wouldn't have to go into quarantine.

I tentatively rested my head on Lock's shoulder once we were on the plane. He grinned, shoved the armrest between us up, and pulled me in close.

"No open doors here?" I teased him quietly.

"No one knows who we are," he chuckled. "We can just be Eli and Lock for a little while."

"So, good friends?" I giggled and pressed my face to his shirt. Even there, on a plane and far removed from his gardens, he smelled bright and green.

"You know we're more than friends," he whispered into my ear. I shivered with goosebumps.

"Are we?" I asked, but I couldn't look up at him.

"As long as both of us know there are boundaries we can't cross," he said softly. "Then, yes. More than friends. At least for now, while we can be a little more honest away from the temple."

I sighed happily. There was a long flight ahead of us. It didn't seem so bad with Lock's arms around me.

He woke me up hours later, gently stroking my hair out of my face.

"Hey, we're landing soon," he said softly. "You have to sit in your own seat now."

I felt heat in my cheeks when I realized I'd practically climb into his lap after I dozed off.

"Oh, sorry!" I gasped and tried to untangle myself enough to get off him. Lock just laughed.

"Don't apologize!" he chuckled. "I'd let you stay there as long as you want, but that won't go over well with the flight attendants."

Owen was waiting for us at the airport. He was leaning on a column at baggage claim looking smug and amused as always.

"Where's Flynn?" I asked him.

"It's great to see you, too!" he laughed in response. "Bunny was onto something in those books. I couldn't break through the trance."

"Sorry!" I winced. "It's good to see you, Owen. Thanks for setting this up."

Owen waved off my apology and greeted Lock with a handshake. They were both happy and chatting like old friends, with Lock excitedly discussing the study he had planned for the next two months.

It surprised me when Owen led us to a car in the parking lot instead of getting a taxi. He drove through London like it was familiar, through the packed streets and over the Thames. He parked on the road in front of a row of tidy brick townhouses.

"That one is ours," Owen said, pointing at one of the many matching doors. "I couldn't get two this close to the gardens, so we're sharing. Hope that's ok."

I wanted to point out that I slept in the living room of their tiny cabin for months, but I still found Owen a little scary. I just enthused about how adorable the place was.

"It's also just two bedrooms," Owen added. "Flynn thought that might be a problem, but you two can figure out who's sleeping on the couch if that's the case."

I glanced nervously at Lock. Any answer he had for that was a frightening thought. He gave me a soft smile and squeezed my hand before he spoke.

"We'll figure it out," he said.

The inside of the townhouse was small, but welcoming. There was a mouth watering smell of something savory roasting in the oven wafting through the air.

Flynn was on the floor in the cozy living room. Three heavy, antique books were open in front of him and his pile of notebooks were spread out around him, some opened to clippings from other books, some showing his own sloppy handwriting or meticulously correct renderings. Owen went to him and gently played with his hair until Flynn blinked and looked up, looking surprised to find that he wasn't alone.

"Hey, Bun," Owen murmured softly and cupped Flynn's cheek. "Elijah and Lock are here. Take a break. Eat something. The books won't run away."

Flynn seemed to take a moment to process those words. He leaned into Owen's touch, then stood up with a chorus of popping joints to greet us. He looked rough. Well, rougher than usual. I wondered when he had last stepped away from his studies.

"Elijah! Lock!" he said happily, sounding a little hoarse. He welcomed me with a big hug and patted Lock on the back. My crow cawed in annoyance in the carrier until Lock released her so she could perch on Flynn's shoulder and ruffle her beak through his hair.

"Flynn, don't hurt yourself trying to figure this out," I said nervously.

"Oh," he looked down at his wrinkled tee shirt with a crooked grin. "That's normal. I can't do anything halfway."

"It's divine mania," Lock provided. "Happens to some acolytes. Smart ones who like to learn, usually."

"That's Bunny, for sure. Brilliant and eager," Owen chuckled. He pointedly pushed a glass of water into Flynn's hands and nudged him to the little kitchen table. "It's not Sunday, but I tried my hand at a Sunday roast. Hope you're both hungry."

...

Lock

Owen proved to be a gracious host. His prickly exterior was, apparently, not intended to scare us off. Between the long day of travel and the heavenly, heavy meal, I was yawning well before the sun set. Eli was in the same boat, blinking his big brown eyes like an adorable owl and trying not to look too sleepy.

"I think we'll tuck in for the night," I said. "Flynn and I can hit the books hard for a few days before I start my study up at Kew on Monday."

Flynn and Owen bid us good night. I had a strong feeling Owen was going to force Flynn to sleep soon, as well.

"Hey, um," Elijah said softly once we were in the spare room and his crow had settled down for the night on the curtain rod. "I can sleep on the couch..."

I winced. That wasn't going to happen. If anything, I would sleep on the couch. I took his hands in mine and moved us to sit together on the bed.

"Eli, answer me honestly, are you offering that because you want to sleep alone or because you think I want to sleep alone?" I asked him gently.

"Um, I didn't think you would want... because I can't, um..." he trailed off in embarrassment.

"If you're uncomfortable, I'm happy to sleep elsewhere," I told him. "But I can finally hold you without worrying who will see us. If you'll let me, I would love to sleep with you in my arms."

Eli's little smile was heartbreakingly hopeful. He just nodded.

As we readied ourselves for bed, I saw him glancing at me. I grinned and stepped in front of him to unbutton my shirt. His eyes strayed down the line of exposed skin, then skipped back up to my eyes. I couldn't help but chuckle at the sweet, pink blush under his freckles.

"Have you ever seen another person naked?" I asked him. Eli swallowed nervously and shook his head. "Well, I'm a little different than what you might be expecting. I can explain if you have any questions, ok? Don't be afraid to ask me."

He looked confused, but he responded affirmatively. I shrugged my shirt off and waited for him to notice. It took him some time. He was busy practically drooling over my muscles. Eventually, his eyes landed on the tell-tale twin scars on my chest.

"Oh, um, did you have, um, heart surgery?" he asked doubtfully.

"Top surgery," I told him. "To remove my breasts."

"To remove your... so you are...?" He looked so confused and so desperate to say the right thing.

"I'm me," I said gently. "I'm just Lock. But, at one point in my life, I was Bethany."

"Ok, um," Eli bit his lip and glanced away from me. "So you're, um, a man now?"

"I'm nonbinary, Eli," I chuckled. "Remember? Any pronouns. I didn't like having breasts, so I had them removed. I take testosterone because I prefer looking more masculine. I keep this scruffy beard to look more rugged. I still wear my hair long and do some makeup because I like being pretty. When I'm in my street clothes, I accentuate my waist and my shoulders because I like that dramatic curve. I'm just me now."

Elijah took a moment to take me in. His soulful eyes raked down my naked torso to my narrow waist and admittedly curvy hips. I wasn't as soft as I once was, but there was definitely still a feminine gracefulness in my body that I didn't discourage.

"You're so beautiful," he whispered. He blinked and looked up at me. "And handsome. Both. Just... I've never met anyone like you before."

"Flatterer," I teased him. He giggled and shrugged. Oh, gods. So cute.

He stepped forward and shyly raised a hand to brush over my bare shoulder. I took his hand in mine and pressed his palm to my chest.

"You can touch me," I whispered. "That's ok."

His trembling fingers lightly traced my skin, following the curves of my muscles to brush over my scars. He raised his eyes to mine again, looking for approval or searching for some indication that I was uncomfortable.

"They're old scars," I said softly. "They don't hurt and I'm not ashamed of them. They tell my story. You can touch them."

"Lock," he whispered. "I'm so dumb, I don't even know what I swore myself to. I don't know what I'm allowed to do. I didn't even know people could be like you. I don't have any idea what's ok to call you. I'm sorry. Please, tell me if I get it wrong."

"Oh, woah," I stepped back from him to give him a little space. He looked up to me with shame in those sweet, brown eyes. "Ok, a few things. You aren't dumb. You're actually really bright. It's ok not to know something. You can always just ask me if you're unsure about anything, especially if it's about me. I will answer you and I won't be angry that you didn't know, ok?"

He nodded and wiped at his cheeks. I gave in to the side of me that wanted more than anything to hold him. I took him back to the bed and urged him to join me in laying down with his head on my chest. Eli shuddered and cuddled into me gratefully.

"As far as what you swore yourself to, I can probably help you figure that out, too," I told him. "It should be in the mark you took when you made your oath."

"Really?" he said.

"It's a sin that your old temple kept you in the dark on so much," I said derisively. "They make slaves, not oracles. But, yes, let me see your mark. If I can't read it, I bet Flynn and I can figure it out."

Eli nervously sat up and gripped the hem of his sweatshirt. He made a face like he was ripping off a bandage as he yanked the top off over his head, then bit his lip as I took him in.

Lightly muscled and lean. His narrow chest and shoulders were pale compared to his face and forearms from wearing his robes while he worked out in the sun. The freckles that decorated his cheeks also dotted his shoulders in a light dusting. He had just the lightest hint of hair on his stomach, leading down to his waistband, and a little bit on his chest. I grinned at him and carefully, slowly ran my hands down his pretty, slender arms.

"You're gorgeous," I whispered to him. Eli blushed a fetching deep red and hid his face in his hands. I laughed and pulled them away playfully. "Don't hide your pretty eyes! I love how you look at me."

He shivered when I said that and slowly dropped his hands to rake his eyes over my exposed skin again.

"I like how you look at me, too," he whispered roughly. He shook himself a little, seemingly remembering why he stripped his shirt off in the first place, and twisted to show me the brands on his upper arm.

Hm, those were done without much care. I imagined poor Eli, so young and so vulnerable, swearing himself to an oath he didn't understand and trying not to sob as those brands were pressed into his skin.

"Ok, so this part," I said, lightly touching his arm to indicate the portion I was talking about. Goosebumps ran down Elijah's arms at my touch. "This is the standard priesthood oath pledging fealty to Phoebus and forsaking the worship of all other deities. There would normally be a bit after that where you pledge to spread the joy of the arts and bring light to humanity, but it looks like your temple didn't want you actually helping anyone. This part is your acceptance of blessings from our lord as an acolyte and a promise to use them to further his glory. The bottom is your oracle pledge. It indicates the great responsibility of prophecy and includes an oath of celibacy. Unfortunately, that's a really general oath. There's not really any explanation of what would break it."

"Oh, well, thanks for looking," he sighed.

"In general terms, an oath of celibacy would preclude intercourse with another person," I added. "That's pretty open to interpretation, but the safest bet is to adhere to the letter of the law and avoid sexual contact with anyone else."

"I'm sorry," he mumbled. "I don't know what that means..."

I lifted his chin to see his sweet, sad eyes.

"Eli, you can always ask me if you don't understand, remember?" I reminded him. "It looks like we can touch and hold each other without breaking your oath since we've already been doing that, but we better stop there. No kissing and no touching below the belt."

"We can't kiss?" he whimpered. That little, sad sound was like an icy dagger to my heart.

"Not right now," I answered as gently as I could. "If you choose to alter your oath, if Lord Phoebus allows it, I'll kiss you for as long as you want. I promise."

Eli nodded miserably. I pulled him back into my arms and tried to be happy just holding him, just feeling his weight on my chest and knowing we could be together in that way, at least. I thought he might fall asleep like that, but he eventually wiggled away and grimaced.

"I can't sleep in my jeans," he said softly.

"Then take them off?" I chuckled.

"Is that ok?"

I playfully rolled my eyes and struggled out of my own jeans without getting up. Elijah laughed at my tangled, ungraceful attempt. Good. That let some tension out of the room. I tried not to check him out in his boxers. That wasn't going to help our situation. It was nearly impossible considering the way his excitement had that plaid fabric straining. I swallowed my groan of needy anticipation just seeing that promising bulge. He blushed and covered himself, trying to mumble an apology.

"It's ok, come here," I murmured, pulling him back to the bed and into my arms again. Oh, gods. His skin on mine felt so good. "Let's get some sleep."

...

Elijah

I woke up still wrapped in Lock's arms. I held my breath, afraid I was dreaming and that I would pop the perfect moment to crash back into reality if I moved too fast. Lock sighed behind me and nuzzled his face into my hair, his strong body flexing as he shifted in his sleep. I scooted in as close as I could. Lock rewarded me by squeezing me in with a happy sigh.

"You awake?" he chuckled.

"Did I wake you up?" I asked guiltily.

"No, I was dozing," he said. One of his hands slipped up to lay flat across my chest, pressing my back to him more firmly. He groaned softly, a deep, rumbling sound like a tiger just out of sight.

"Is this real?" I asked him in a whisper.

"Well, I'm real," he laughed. "And you're real. So probably? There's a philosopher out there that would argue those points, though."

I was trying to focus on his words, but his skin on mine and the way his strong arms held me tight had my head spinning. I was aching in my boxers and desperate for him not to notice that I was so hard. An embarrassing little moan fell out of my mouth. Lock paused, then pressed his face back into my hair.

"Phoebus, help us be strong," he murmured.

"We can be strong," I gasped back.

Lock let me go to sit up. I whined at the loss of his warmth, reaching to pull him back to me, but he just shook his head sadly.

"I have to get out of this bed right now," he said with his voice low and gruff. "Pray. Meditate. We both have to remember why we are here, ok?"

I nodded and tried not to let him see how much that hurt my heart. Lock knew, though. He gently tilted my head to him with his fingers under my chin. An aching longing had settled in his icy eyes.

"We'll know for sure by the end of this," he reminded me. "Until then, we can either enjoy the contact we can have or we can separate. I'll move out to the couch if this is too hard."

I took a slow, deep breath to calm the neediness inside of me.

"It's worth how hard it is," I said quietly. "I've never felt like I do with you."

"Ok," he said, that sweet, confident smile tilting his pretty lips. "Then we'll do the hard work. We can do it. Pray for strength."

"Yes, we can do it," I agreed, though I was a little less confident.

"Good. I'm going to grab a shower."

He went to the en suite bathroom. I shoved one hand into my boxers and clamped the other over my mouth the moment he disappeared behind the door. It didn't take long, a few pumps with my face pressed into the sheets still warm with the scent of his skin. A perfunctory, less than satisfying use of that tension in my guts, but I hoped it would ease the pressure between us to a more tolerable level.

"Gods, Eli," Lock murmured. My eyes flew open in horror. He saw me? I couldn't imagine anything more embarrassing in that moment. But Lock just groaned, almost a needy, purring sound, and bit his lip. "Gods, I want you so bad."

"We can't," I whined. That didn't stop my dick from trying to twitch back to life.

"I know," he sighed. "I know. But I'm going to do my own version of that in here. The door's unlocked."

I scrambled out of the bed as soon as my brain decoded those words. Lock was already stepping into the shower. He smirked at me and closed the glass door behind him. He looked impossible under the cascade of water. His grace and muscles, the ruggedness edged in delicate beauty. I watched him stretch and run his hands down his body, following the tempting V on his abdomen that drew my eyes down to the dark patch of hair below.

He slid his fingers down, moving them gently and sighing softly at the contact. I glanced up to see his piercing eyes locked on me. I gasped at the intensity of the moment, my dick was struggling back to full mast. Oh, gods. I wasn't going to be able to just watch.

Lock moaned and my eyes dropped back down to see what he was doing. He tilted his hips to show me his busy fingers stroking through his slick lips. I heard myself whining when he brought his other hand down and slid two fingers into himself.

"It's ok, touch yourself while you watch me," Lock gasped.

I realized I had one hand trying to hide or maybe subtly stroke my treacherous hardon. I didn't think about it too hard, I just dropped my boxers and circled my aching dick with my hand. Lock purred happily.

We watched each other without any more words, just the sounds of our gasps and moans rising softly above the patter of the water. I'd never seen anything as beautiful as Lock writhing on his own hands, wreathed in steam and framed behind glass like a work of art. He panted, looking up at me desperately.

"Lock, please," I gasped. "Let me see. Please?"

That must have done it. Lock's hips bucked, he gasped out a growling moan, I watched in dumb wonder as Lock fell apart in front of me. He leaned forward, one hand on the glass, and grinned at me.

"Now you. Can you go again? Can I look into your eyes while you cum?"

I whimpered and sped up my own hands. I wasn't sure if I could cum again so quickly, but I desperately wanted to. He urged me on, stroking his own body for my amusement and murmuring softly to me. I broke for him, leaning back against the counter, our eyes locked together through the glass as I painted my hands again.

"Oh, Eli," he moaned softly. "Gods, you are beautiful."

"Me?" I laughed in surprise. "Have you seen you?"

"We can both be beautiful," he chuckled. "I'll finish up so you can hop in and clean up, ok?"

"Ok," I said. I glanced around awkwardly. "Can I, um, can I stay in here? With you?"

"Sure," he said with a fond little smile. "I always like your company."

I settled on the floor in the steamy room, just happy to have him in any way I could.

...

It quickly occurred to me that I should find a project to keep me busy while we were in London. Lock was gone on weekdays to work on his study in the botany labs at the Royal Gardens. Flynn was locked into his research, barely responding to anyone except Lock when he joined the work or Owen when Flynn's small, fierce man dragged him off the floor and forced him to take care of himself. Owen seemed to be working on something himself. I wasn't entirely sure what he did, but I knew he made a lot of money with whatever it was.

That left me twiddling my thumbs and hanging out with my crow. Owen noticed me sitting at the kitchen table, idly flipping through one of the many books Flynn brought that I couldn't read. He shoved a handful of cash into my hands.

"What?"

"Go explore London. It's boring here," Owen said. "Take your bird and your phone."

"You don't have to give me money," I said in quiet shame.

"Just take it, kid," Owen said, but he was being more gentle than he normally was. "You should get a chance to see the world. Go introduce your bird to the ravens at the Tower of London."

Lock joined us in the kitchen about then. His brows furrowed at my withdrawn, embarrassed posture. Lock immediately pushed between me and Owen with a glare for the smaller man.

"If you need to pick on someone, you can bully me," Lock growled.

Owen just laughed.

"I gave the kid some cash to go play tourist," he said when he got himself back under control. "Didn't know telling him to sightsee was bullying."

Lock relaxed and chuckled through an apology.

"No worries, I'm an overprotective hothead, too," Owen snickered. He turned back to me with his grin still on his face. "At least take enough cash to go see the Royal Gardens. They're like a block away and you like plants, right?"

"It would be nice to see the city," I said a little hesitantly.

"Great, here," Owen shoved a plastic card in my hands along with the cash. "That Oyster card has plenty on it."

I stared at the colorful bit of plastic in confusion.

"Oyster?" I repeated.

"For public transit," Lock provided. "You can use that for the buses and trains to get around the city. Carry your temple credentials with you. That will get you sanctuary at almost any temple if you need help. There's a Phoebus temple in Chelsea."

"I can always find him as long as he has his phone," Owen pointed out. Lock arched an eyebrow.

"Why?"

"Because I take care of my people," Owen said with a shrug. "Stick around, I'll start tracking you, too." He left us there in the kitchen to go drag Flynn off the floor and make him eat.

"I'm his people?" I said curiously.

"Well, you're Flynn's little brother," Lock said. "Go explore the city. You'll have fun."

...

Flynn

Lock definitely sped up the research. They had some experience with esoteric languages I was only passingly familiar with. We worked without talking much, but I also sometimes started conversations in the middle. That made sense to me, I was tuned in to the flow of our studies. Lock seemed surprised by it.

"Can you read minds?" Lock asked me after another one of those conversations that started in the middle.

"No," I laughed. "I'm good at guessing what you're thinking, though."

"That's not that reassuring," they muttered.

"I wouldn't use it for anything bad," I said. "I'm just a rabbit."

"Sure you are," Lock chuckled. "And your nameless goddess? She's a harmless little rabbit, too."

I just grinned. They knew better than that. I wasn't looking in Lock's head, but I caught a flash of something else.

"Eli can't break his oath," I said quietly. "Shark can get one of you a hotel room or something if the living situation is a problem."

Lock chuckled uncomfortably.

"Oh, gods. Can you see that much?" they said. "Look, I know. We'll be careful."

"You have to be. All this work will be pointless if you two can't keep your pants on for a few months," I said. Lock rolled their eyes.

"I don't need a big brother," they scoffed.

"I'm really too old to be Elijah's brother," I chuckled. "Like, twelve years? More maybe? Way too old."

"My sister was eleven years older than me," Lock said with a little touch of sadness.

"I'm sorry for your loss," I said. Lock squinted at me.

"Are you sure you can't read minds?" they asked.

"Yep. I'm just blessed with perception," I said and shrugged. "You'll get used to it. I try not to be too weird, but I'm a dandelion in the daisies. I don't always do the right thing."

"Dandelions are useful, important plants," Lock said. "I cultivate them in one of our greenhouses."

"Good, so you understand that I mean well," I concluded. Lock laughed and got back to work.

...

Owen

Flynn loved spending his days underwater in books. He was even happier to have a friend who shared that passion. Maybe it wasn't exactly normal, but I was enjoying our new little found family, as well.

He surprised me one night by tugging my headphones off well before I went out to remind him that he had to sleep. I looked up from the floor to see him grinning at me from the bed.

"Hey, baby," I said. "You get bored of your books?"

"I got lonely," he giggled.

"Isn't Lock out there with you?" I laughed.

"Not that kind of lonely," he murmured.

I snapped my laptop closed and dropped my headphones on top of it to stand up. Flynn's eager grin and excited giggle sent a jolt through my chest. I stood between his knees and tilted his chin up.

"You need my attention, pretty boy?"

"Yes," he purred back at me. His dark eyes looked dreamy in the low lamp light. "I'll be your good boy. I'll be big and strong. I'll be whatever you want, Shark."

"You'll have to be quiet," I chuckled. "Unless you want your little brother to hear us. We can't run out to the woods to fuck in the middle of London."

"Maybe you have to be quiet," he suggested, reaching up and gripping me by the back of my head to drag me down to his lips. I laughed and let him take over, moving to kneel over his lap and enjoying the desperate way he kissed me.

"I'm not the loud one no matter which of us is in charge," I told him when he let me breathe again. Flynn laughed and dragged me back on the bed to cover me with his body.

"So pretty," he purred. "Quiet and pretty and always in charge."

"Like a shark, yeah?" I suggested. Flynn just grinned and kissed me again.

"Can I be your big, strong man?" he murmured into my ear as he started pulling off my shirt. "Can you be mine tonight?"

"You sweet boy," I sighed. "You know the answer is yes. Fuck me like you own me, Bunny."

Flynn giggled and made quick work of the rest of my clothes. I stopped him and made him strip before he attacked me with kisses again. I loved feeling his skin on mine. His hard, knotted muscles and his talented hands. His eager disposition and his honesty. My sweet, feral man.

Flynn took advantage of our size difference since I agreed to play along, pinning me down with his weight and leisurely exploring my body with his hands and lips. I groaned as he found his way between my legs.

His dark eyes flicked up to me with a little grin before he licked his way down my shaft, circled the tip, and swallowed me down. I held my breath to keep my moans to myself even as his tight throat flexed around me. I felt him giggling to himself and couldn't stop the soft groan that escaped me.

He worked me in earnest, his hand stayed busy caressing my body, massaging my sack, and keeping me guessing. I wasn't going to last, not with my Bunny pushing all my buttons and looking up at me with those eager eyes.

"Bunny, I'm," I tried to warn him, but it was too late. He hummed happily as his throat milked me dry. He swallowed every drop before he eased off and kissed his way back to my lips.

"Be pretty for me," he murmured. "Just like that. Spent, sweating, beautiful. Your eyes look like stars right now. Distant. Sparkling. Perfect."

I chuckled and reached down to grip his twitching dick. Flynn's breath hitched and he thrust into my hands. His eyes never left mine even as he covered his own mouth to smother his moans. He grunted as he came. I sighed in delight at the way he kissed me at his peak.

"I love you, Bunny," I whispered to him as we lay in each other's arms. The sweat on my body was leaving behind goosebumps now that my heart stopped racing.

"I love you, Shark," he sighed happily back.

...

Elijah

I was so grateful that Owen urged me to get out and see the city. It was scary, at first. I had never really been out on my own besides the long, fateful Greyhound trip I took to Tennessee.

I got around to the Tower of London the next week. It was much bigger than I imagined. I had pictured an actual tower, not a full castle. My crow perched on my shoulder, tilting her head at the crowds of tourists. I showed my temple credentials and her endorsement to keep her with me on the tour.

We ended up in a courtyard filled with flightless ravens. Looking at them made me sad. I loved to see my crow soar on the winds. She fluttered off my shoulder to inspect her giant brethren despite my attempt to keep her with me.

"Ah, come back!" I hissed at her. A yeoman in his red regalia chuckled near me.

"She wants to meet the big boys?" he asked me.

"Um, sorry," I mumbled. "She's an envoy. She does what she wants."

"I'm the Ravenmaster. They aren't connected to any gods, but they still do what they want," he told me.

My crow was cawing at the much bigger birds, they looked curious but largely unbothered by her. That was a relief.

"She's a gorgeous bird," the Ravenmaster said approvingly. "What are you feeding her?"

"Oh, she mostly forages for herself at home, but she likes meat and eggs. That's what I give her when we travel," I answered. "Well, that and cheesy popcorn. She really likes that. I try not to let her eat too much junk, though."

"Does she have a name?"

"Probably," I answered. "My brother thinks every animal has a name they call themselves, we just can't understand them. She's smart. She probably has a name."

The yeoman looked at me oddly. Ah, crap. That was a weird thing to say. I'd been among acolytes too long. He eventually smiled, though, a distant, curious look.

"That's an interesting thought," he said. "We just give the birds here human names."

"That works, too," I laughed a little nervously. My crow swooped back to me, but she brought two of the big ravens with her. She landed on my shoulder, her new friends looked up at me from the cobblestones.

"Oh, um, hi," I greeted them, thinking about how Flynn always spoke to animals like they were people. "Did you make some friends?"

"Here, lad," the yeoman said. He shoved two damp dog treats into my hands. "Give 'em a treat."

I offered the treats to the birds. They took them more delicately than my own bird did, tossing their heads back to swallow. My crow chattered amiably on my shoulder, apparently a farewell to the big birds as they hopped back to their flock.

"It was nice meeting you," I said to the Ravenmaster. He smiled and waved me off. I walked back out to the crowded streets, thinking about where I would go next.

"Hey, kid," a familiar voice greeted me. I jumped in surprise to see Owen leaning on the wall outside the exit.

"Oh, hey! Were you... looking for me?" I asked in confusion.

"You said you were going to the Tower today," he said. "There's a great place to eat nearby where we can see the Tower Bridge. Come on, you like Mediterranean?"

"I've never had it, but I'm happy to try," I said and fell in step with him. I was still confused, though. "Did Lock send you?"

"No one sends me anywhere," Owen laughed. "And I'm not as much of an asshole as you think. Can't I just take my little brother in law out for dinner?"

"Um, yeah, ok," I said, relaxing into the casual mood Owen was giving off.

"Really, though," he added after a few blocks of companionable silence. "Flynn loves you and he worries that you're afraid of me. Which is insane considering he's an open conduit to a vindictive goddess and I'm just a guy with a computer, but there's that."

"You're a guy with a bat," I said quietly.

"Huh?"

"In my mind, you're a guy with a bat," I explained. "I watched you beat a man to death the first time we met."

"Oh, that," Owen laughed. "I'm not usually so hands on, but you use the right tools for the job, you know?"

"Um, I guess so," I said doubtfully.

"Well, the point is you don't need to be afraid of me," he concluded. "I only use my questionable skills for good when it comes to you."

"Like my bugged phone?" I joked warily.

"Yeah, exactly," Owen agreed. "It's not bugged, though. I don't spy on you through it. I mean, I guess I could, but I don't. I can track you with it."

"So you can find me if I get kidnapped again," I finished for him. I had to admit, it felt nice knowing someone was looking out for me.

"I'm hoping we don't have to do that again," Owen said. "But you live your life however you want. That was the whole point of finding you in the first place."

I relaxed into an easier conversation as we shared a meal looking out at the Thames and the stately Tower Bridge. Owen ordered a bottle of wine for the table and offered me a glass.

"Oh! I'm just twenty," I said.

"Legal drinking age is eighteen in the UK," Owen said. "But you can do whatever you want."

I tentatively accepted a glass and tasted the pale white wine. It wasn't what I expected. I thought it would be either sweet or harsh, but it was soft on my tongue, a little tart, and interestingly complex.

"Uh, oh," Owen snickered at my surprised grin. "Did I unlock a vice? I'm always corrupting acolytes. You better stick with one glass. Bunny and Lock will kill me if you come home wasted."

I found that I enjoyed spending time with Owen. He was sharp and funny. I liked the way he casually challenged me to try new things by ordering small dishes of different foods to the table and encouraging me to try them. Maybe he really wasn't as scary as I imagined.

"Why do you call Flynn 'Bunny'?" I asked when I got to the bottom of my wine. I felt a little flushed and giggly.

"I asked him if I should be worried about my safety when we first met. He told me that he was just a rabbit." Owen said. "Just fast and soft and harmless. I call him Bunny because he really is soft and fast. He's not really as harmless as he'd like to be, though. He calls me Shark because I'm a hunter."

"Like... deer? Ducks?"

"Bounties," he said. "Databases, locations, secrets, people. Anything really. I'm well known enough to be picky at this point."

"Oh," I mumbled, unsure how to respond. There was a long silence during which Owen seemed perfectly comfortable. "That's how you found me."

"Partially," he replied. "That was a team effort with Bunny. You were pretty hard to find."

"I'm really glad it was you and Flynn that found me," I said quietly. "I should find a way to thank you."

"Seeing Bunny happy is enough," Owen laughed. "He needed a family to love him for who he is. So, welcome to the family. Your boyfriend seems nice. Maybe I'll make him family, too."

I blinked at him, feeling slow and sweet like honey. Once I put all those thoughts together, I managed to answer.

"Do you think love is real?" I felt a little teary for reasons I didn't understand.

Owen tilted his head to one side and gave me an amused smile.

"Oooh, a lightweight," he chuckled. "I'm glad I stopped you at one glass. Yes, I think love is real. I think love between friends is very real and, a lot of times, stronger than family ties. I don't think soulmates are real, but very lucky people sometimes find a person who fits them perfectly. That love is definitely real."

"Do you think, um," I trailed off and tried to get a better grip on myself. "Sorry, nevermind. I think I'm drunk."

"Do I think Lock is your perfect fit?" he asked with a smirk. "Maybe. He's a good guy. I liked how he shoved me away from you the other morning. He has your best interests at heart."

"Lock is nonbinary," I mumbled.

"Oh, sorry. They have your best interests at heart," Owen corrected and sipped his wine.

"He doesn't mind being called he," I said, though I had no idea why. "I've never met anyone like him before. He's so pretty and strong and sweet and protective. He teaches me things and never gets fed up with how stupid I am."

"Hey," Owen broke into my rambling. "No. You're not shit talking yourself here. You were sheltered. You're learning."

"I never even went to school," I mumbled.

"I have a fucking doctorate and Bunny dropped out of high school. He's still light-years ahead of me on knowledge. Formal education isn't what makes a person smart," Owen insisted. "You are putting in the work now. You're catching up. Plus it's really not fair to compare anyone to Lock and Flynn. Their IQs probably break the scales."

"You have a doctorate? In what?" I asked curiously. He didn't seem like the scholarly type.

"Criminology," he said dismissively. "Not the point. The point is, you're not stupid. Don't put yourself down like that."

"Ok, I won't," I said. "But go back. You're a Doctor of Criminology?"

"Hm, well, one of my aliases is, but I did all the work," he chuckled. "It was useful. I never get caught. I'm boring. Tell me more about Lock."

I took the bait and ran with it, telling Owen stories of the work Lock and I did together, the time we spent walking among the sequoias, and intricate descriptions of his pretty eyes. We were back on the train to our townhouse before I realized it. Owen looked amused by my ramblings as he ushered me through the station closest to home.

"Sounds like Lock might just be perfect for you," Owen said as we exited the station to the street. It was quiet out there. Pools of lamplight made islands of light on the sidewalk surrounded by a muggy darkness. I shivered and stepped closer to Owen. I had no doubt that my frightening friend could easily keep me safe.

We made it back to the townhouse where I stumbled in through the front door. Lock and Flynn looked up curiously. Lock chuckled after he got a good look.

"Eli, are you drunk?" he asked.

"Umm, a little," I giggled. "I like white wine."

Lock laughed and folded me into his arms. I heard Owen asking Flynn if he ate and when he last took a break. Another tipsy little chuckle escaped me.

"What's so funny?" His voice was a rumble I felt more than a sound I heard.

"Owen isn't a shark," I whispered. "He's an overprotective mother hen keeping all the flighty, naive acolytes safe and fed."

"I'm not flighty or naive. What does that make me?" Lock chuckled.

"A goose?" I suggested. "A swan? What's a pretty farm bird?"

"I'll be one of those fancy ducks," he said. "Like, too fancy for the barnyard kind of ducks."

"Oh. So concerning levels of fancy," I said seriously, but that didn't last long. Lock and I were both quietly giggling in each other's arms while Owen made Flynn eat. I wanted nothing more than to stay in that sweet, silly moment forever.

...

Flynn

We cracked it.

Lock and I both knew the moment everything slid into place. They looked up at me with a shocked excitement on their face. I just nodded, words were too hard right then. Lock bounced up to his feet.

"Eli! Eli! We did it!" they shouted down the hall.

Elijah crashed out of their room and stumbled straight into Lock. He looked into Lock's eyes for a moment, then buried his face in Lock's tee shirt. His shoulders trembled as Lock wrapped him up in a hug.

Owen leaned into the room with his headphones down around his neck.

"Good news, Bunny?" he asked me.

"We figured it out," I said happily. It felt more real with those words. I picked up the notebook with the spell written out in complicated sigils and set it on the table. Owen came to tuck himself under my arm and squeeze me.

"Look at that. Just one small theft, a little falsifying records, and two months of work later," he chuckled. "You're brilliant, Bun."

"It wasn't just me," I pointed out.

"Shhh, take the compliment," Owen shushed me.

Lock and Elijah eventually joined us, taking seats at the table. Elijah's eyes were red and teary, but he had the most hopeful little smile on his face.

"So, what's next?" Owen asked.

"Lock or I need to cast this," I said. "And Elijah will ask his questions."

"You need to cast it," Lock said. "I already know I can't handle something like that."

"Ok, I cast it, Elijah asks his questions, then we make whatever plans those answers need," I amended. "But, if I'm casting it, my lady will want to be present. So that complicates it a little."

"Two gods? Can we survive that?" Lock asked.

"Um, Lock, Elijah, and I can survive it because we are protected," I said. "Owen is only kind of protected, so he'll have to be somewhere else."

"Can the house survive that?" Owen asked.

"We should probably do this outside," I conceded.

...

Owen drove us out into the countryside. We picked a place where we were pretty certain we could be alone for several miles in all directions. Owen stopped the car to let us out, but he stopped me before I could open my door.

"I'm going two miles down the road and I'm coming back in thirty minutes," he said. "You have to be alive when I get back. Please, Bunny? I need you."

I leaned over the center console to press our foreheads together.

"I love you, Shark. I'll be ok," I promised him. "My lady won't let me die trying to help another god's follower."

Owen smirked at me, pulled me into a kiss, and let me go.

I watched him drive off with a little knot in my heart. I hated to make him worry, but sometimes I had to. When the car was out of sight, I turned to Lock and Elijah. They both looked nervous. I motioned for them to follow me into the woods.

Intuition picked the best place. A pretty clearing that looked like it belonged in a period drama with gangly trees, dark green leaves, and the soft velvet quiet of being deep in the woods. Lock and Elijah stood clinging to each other anxiously.

"Ok, a few things to remember," I said. I knelt on the crunchy carpet of leaves. Lock and Elijah followed my lead. "Keep your eyes closed. If you don't think you can, say so now and I'll blindfold you."

"I can keep them closed," Lock said. Elijah just nodded.

"Good. Let me handle my lady, but, if she speaks directly to you, be brief and be respectful. I have a little leeway to be casual because I'm her favorite," I explained. "You're going to have about ten minutes after I cast this. I won't be able to hold it any longer than that. Be polite, but get to the point."

Both agreed quietly.

"Elijah, are you ready?" I asked him.

"Yes, I'm ready," he said. He was shaking hard.

"We don't have to do it today," I told him. "We don't have to do it at all if you changed your mind. It's ok. You can do that."

"No, I want to do this," he said firmly. He reached for Lock's hand and squeezed it. "I want to know what options I really have."

"Ok," I nodded. I set the page with our complicated sigil in front of me and bowed my head. "Eyes closed, heads down. I will speak to my lady first."

I'm already watching you, zealot.

Lock and Elijah both gasped at the jolt of her voice.

"Lady, can I help my brother?" I asked politely.

The heaviness of her presence never failed to knock the air from my lungs and make my bones creak. She rested her large hand on my head and ruffled my hair like she was petting a dog.

Help the little prophet. But I'll be here to make sure the messenger doesn't take any liberties with my property.

"Yes, lady," I gasped. "Thank you for your mercy."

I leaned forward to place my hand in the center of the sigils, braced myself for the pain, and called on my blessings.

...

Elijah

The presence of Flynn's goddess was horrible. I felt pressed into the ground by an impossible weight while her voice plunged into my brain like a migraine. I vaguely heard her give her permission and fought to pull myself together. I had to be present. I had to get this right.

Lock's hand on my knee grounded me. I focused on that and imagined his sweet, pretty eyes looking at me with a love I never imagined could exist. I straightened up in time to hear Flynn finish the spell.

There was a beat of total silence. Even the wind stilled. Then a presence that felt like fire instead of weight joined us in the clearing. I gasped and wrapped my arms around myself. I felt Lock crawl to me to sit behind me and cover me with his arms.

Oh, gods, I had to get it right.

I had to do it for Lock.

Be calm, children. My presence will be more comfortable if you can calm yourselves.

Phoebus. His voice didn't hurt. It felt warm. Soft. Like a favorite sweater and a perfect hug. I sighed at the tingles that ran through my skin, chasing out the tension and pain of Flynn's goddess.

Good. Very good. Now, prophet, I understand you wish to ask me the same question you have been asking for months now.

He sounded amused. I was still shaking, but I felt warm.

"Yes, lord," I whispered. "I need to be sure. I want to serve you. I want to spread your joy and your light to the world. But I want to serve as your acolyte. Will you allow me to sacrifice the blessing of prophecy? Will you accept my new oath as an acolyte?"

Why would you want that, child?

"I didn't understand the oath when I took it," I said, trying to sound confident but knowing I sounded afraid. "It was forced on me. I chose you as my god, lord, but I didn't know I could serve you in any other way. I... I want a different life than that. I want to rejoice in your glory and serve in your name, but I want the chance for love, too. I, um, I met your beloved acolyte Hemlock. There's no one in the world like him. If you would allow it, if it would please you, I want to be his partner for life. We can serve you together, but I can't do that as an oracle."

Hemlock. That one is indeed beloved and blessed.

His fond chuckle felt like carbonation, almost a little painful, but still delightful.

You may do this, child, but it is a final decision. If you choose to give up your blessing of prophecy, you cannot ever get it back. Be sure this is the path you want to take before you choose.

"Thank you, lord," I gasped. Lock echoed my gratitude, but he was still holding me protectively while he spoke.

Muse, your zealot is in pain, he said.

Messenger, my zealot is not your concern, she scoffed.

Of course. May I bless your follower for caring for my child?

There was a sound like a sigh, then I heard Flynn gasp in pain.

Go ahead. But this one is mine.

"Of course, lady," Flynn groaned. "Always yours. Devoted."

Zealot, you have performed two great kindnesses for my child. Accept my blessing with my gratitude and the gratitude of my temples.

"Thank you, Lord Phoebus," Flynn said politely, but he sounded terrible. I clamped my hands over my face to avoid the urge to look at him.

What would you like? You have more than enough natural talent for art. Music? Philosophy? Astronomy? You can't be a prophet, but I will give you the gift of second sight.

Give him second sight, Messenger, the goddess said, sounding bored. My zealot will be unstoppable.

So be it, Muse. I propose we ally our followers. These three are powerful together and their mutual happiness should be nurtured.

I'll allow it, but my orders will always take precedence. My zealot knows the punishment for failure. His happiness is not my priority.

"I won't fail you, lady," Flynn said tightly.

Of course you won't. This is done. Bid your followers goodbye. My zealot will burn out if you stay any longer.

Children, I want you to find joy in service. Your union will be blessed if you wish it so.

Both divine presences were suddenly, shockingly gone. Lock shuddered behind me and dragged me fully into his lap to stroke my face and check me for injury.

"Eli, are you ok?" he whispered hoarsely.

"I'm ok," I said. "You?"

"I'm so much more than ok," he grinned. "He said yes!"

"He said we are blessed," I murmured back. Lock nodded happily, tears sparkled in his bright sapphire eyes.

I heard a soft groan and suddenly remembered it wasn't just me and Lock in that clearing.

"Oh! Flynn!" I hopped up to go to his side. Lock was on my heels to kneel on his other side.

Flynn was shaking hard with his face in the dirt. He pushed himself up on his elbows to look at us. I gasped at the gore on his face. Blood from his nose, yes, but rivulets ran down his face from unseen wounds on his scalp, as well. His goddess must have clawed him. Flynn grinned a hideous, bloody smile.

"That was great!" he croaked. "Perfect!"

"Fuck, Flynn," Lock muttered. He helped Flynn untangle himself to sit up. "We need to get him back to the townhouse. I can patch him up."

"Huh? I'm ok," Flynn chuckled. "This is normal unregistered acolyte shit."

"Maybe the temple limits are a good thing," Lock said softly.

"Well, I'm a zealot," Flynn added. "I'm in a little deeper than most people."

Flynn's phone was ringing. He fumbled it out and tapped the speaker button.

"Hey, Shark," he sighed happily. "Straight ahead, about a half mile. But I'm sure Lock can help me get back to the road."

"You sure, Bun?" Owen said quietly. "You sound bad."

"I'm sure. Give us, like, twenty minutes. I'm a tortoise," Flynn giggled a little drunkenly.

"Slow and steady, Bunny. I'll be here if you need me," Owen said and ended the call.

...

Lock

Elijah seemed dazed when we got back to the townhouse. He didn't say anything on his way back to our room. I shot a worried look at Owen. He looked like he had his hands full getting Flynn cleaned up.

"Go on, I got this," Owen said quietly. "I'm used to patching Bunny up after his goddess plays rough."

Flynn laughed at that and waved me off.

"This is normal. I'm fine," he assured me. "Go talk to Elijah."

I left them there and found Elijah sitting on our bed staring dully at his hands. I joined him on the bed.

"Eli? You ok?" I asked.

"It's just so much," he whispered. "Our patron just... he knew me. He knew you. He wants us to be happy."

"Yes, Lord Phoebus is kind," I agreed. "His prerogative is always spreading the joy of arts and knowledge. That joy includes those of us who serve him."

"So... why does Flynn's goddess beat him up?" he asked in a small, sad voice.

"Ah, well," I hesitated as I thought about that question. "She does it because she can. She chose Flynn for his devotion and loyalty along with his other talents. She's a muse. Joy isn't a concern for her. She wants obsession and worship."

"Is Flynn going to be in trouble now? He's not supposed to know who she is," Eli sounded so worried. "Lord Phoebus identified her."

"I can't answer that for sure," I said carefully. "But muse is a category, not an identity. There are at least a dozen possible goddesses she could be. Technically, he should be ok."

"I hope so," Eli whispered. "I'll pray for him, but our lord can't really help him, can he?"

"He may be able to help a little. The Muse allowed Flynn to accept a blessing from Lord Phoebus. That gives him a little bit of influence," I said. "Maybe he can inject a little joy in Flynn's obsessions."

"Hm, maybe," Eli said thoughtfully. He was quiet for a while, then a sweet little grin crept up on his face. "Speaking of joy, I kind of dropped a lifetime commitment on your head back there. That just came out in the moment. I should have discussed it with you."

"Eli," I couldn't help but chuckle at his charming smile. "These weeks with you have been hard only because of the boundaries of your oath. I'm more sure now than ever that this was meant to be. Lord Phoebus brought us together for a reason."

"A perfect fit," he murmured. "That's what Owen calls it. Not soulmates, a perfect fit."

"A perfect fit," I agreed. A little shiver ran through him. I wanted nothing more than to pull him into my arms and taste his cute smile. I shook myself and stood up.

"Soon," Elijah said softly. "I'll announce my decision when we get home. I'll change my oath as soon as I can."

"There's no rush," I said tightly. "It's a big decision. Take your time."

"The decision is made, Lock," Eli said firmly. "I have no doubts."

"Oh, Eli," I sighed. "Gods, I wish I could kiss you right now."

"I'm going to take a walk," he said suddenly. "Over to the gardens to meditate."

"Yes, good idea," I agreed. "I'm going to check on Flynn."

...

I really did want to finish my work at the Kew labs. Horticulture and botany were my life's purpose. I spread the love of Phoebus through the plants I grew and their various applications. I loved helping people. I loved supporting the temple and our mission of joy and art.

But it was hard to care about that when I had Elijah in my arms every night. His body pressed to mine, the smell of his skin and the sweet way he sighed in his sleep. It was a delicious torture I wouldn't give up for anything less than going home and supporting him through the big changes to come. It was nearly done. I had just the final week of wrapping up my work and presenting my conclusions.

Nights in the townhouse were fun that last week. With our research done, it was just the four of us hanging out every evening. Owen liked to cook or surprise us with reservations at fancier restaurants than seemed necessary. He seemed set on introducing Elijah to a new type of food every night for the time we had left.

The last night in our shared home, we walked to the closest pub for dinner. Flynn was teaching Eli to throw darts after a heavy, greasy meal and several rounds of beer. Owen and I leaned on the wall nearby, watching our partners and adding helpful commentary. Flynn, a man of many strange and hidden talents, was unsurprisingly great at darts.

Eli, giggly and tipsy on his two beers, threw his arms around me and laid his head on my shoulder after he lost the game.

"I'm going to miss this," he sighed wistfully.

"You'll miss London?" I asked.

"I'll miss the four of us together," he said.

"We'll do it again," Owen said. "Just pick a place you want to see, I'll make it happen."

"Oh, um," Eli straightened up and bit his lip awkwardly. "I didn't mean you had to take us on vacations."

"Yeah, I know what you meant," Owen laughed. "But this was fun, and it would be more fun without the complicated magic shit. So, I'll get the family together again whenever you two can take a couple weeks."

Flynn laughed softly and wrapped one long arm around Owen.

"Thank you, Shark," he said quietly. Owen smirked up at him and leaned into his embrace.

"Turns out I like having siblings, too," he said.

...

Elijah

The temple was lush and green with late summer when we got home. Lock was immediately dragged away by the acolytes he had left in charge of the gardens. He'd missed most of the summer crops, but the greenhouses were always fruitful and the fall harvest was on the horizon. He squeezed my arm apologetically. I smiled and waved him off. He had responsibilities. I knew that.

I hadn't considered that coming home meant sleeping alone again. The little room that had been my great joy when I first saw it was suddenly a cold, unwelcome sight. I settled in, unpacking my few belongings and changing back into robes. My crow hopped from the headboard to my shoulder to ruffle my hair and chatter gently at me.

"I'm ok," I told her softly. "At least I have you, right?"

Now back in my temple uniform, I went to find the Abbot. She was leading a group of pilgrims in song in one of the small classrooms. I joined the group, sitting in the back to enjoy the music. I had missed that. Being with Flynn meant I still saw art every day, but the constant joy of music was a comfort I loved. There was always someone singing, playing an instrument, or teaching a group of musicians somewhere in the big building.

Abbot Teresa saw me as the class ended and the pilgrims filed out. She stopped beside the back pew where I sat with a smile.

"Welcome back, Elijah," she said. "I hope your time away from our temple was productive?"

"Yes, Abbot," I said. "I had a lot of time to meditate and pray. The Royal Gardens are incredible."

"That's good to hear. I will be interested to hear about Hemlock's study," she said. "Did you get a chance to see the city at all? There are so many beautiful temples in London."

My crow tapped her beak on my head irritably. I almost laughed. She wasn't going to let me chicken out with small talk.

"Um, Abbot," I said, trying to sound more confident than I felt. "I've made a decision about my oath. I believe Lord Phoebus will allow me to sacrifice my place as an oracle and pledge a new oath as his acolyte."

The Abbot sobered and nodded solemnly.

"I see you have been meditating," she said. She was well aware of how conflicted I had been when I left. "You will need to purify yourself. You will be excused from duties and remain in solitude in your rooms for the next five days. Your crow will not be allowed to keep you company. Food will be delivered, but you will be hungry. Pray. Meditate. Listen. After five days, if you are still certain, you will come to the sanctuary for weekly worship and declare your decision to your siblings in devotion."

"Yes, Abbot. I'm ready," I said, but my throat had gone dry. Alone. Locked alone in a room. Again. Oh, gods.

"Go to your rooms. Your solitude begins now," Abbot Teresa said.

"Now? I can't tell-" I started.

"You are an oracle," the Abbot said pointedly. "You don't have any close enough attachments to need to tell anyone anything. Leave the bird in the gardens."

"Yes, Abbot," I whispered.

...

Lock

I couldn't find Eli that night at dinner. He wasn't in our usual spot or among the other friends he had made out in the gardens. I tried to shake that off until his crow landed on my shoulder.

"Where's Eli?" I asked the bird, hoping she would, somehow, answer me. She chattered and tilted her head. Ok, not helpful. She didn't seem upset, though. I tried to take solace in that. She was Elijah's guardian sent directly from our patron deity, she would know if something was wrong.

"Lock!"

I turned to find a priestess who worked in the kitchens walking towards me with a small basket. She pushed the package into my hands with a harried smile.

"Do me a favor and take this to your friend? That little guy with the freckles?" she said.

"You mean Elijah?" I said, taking the basket with a lot of confusion. "What is this?"

"His provisions?" she said with equal confusion. "You know, because he's in solitude this week?"

"Oh, um, right," I said and walked away. Eli was in solitude? Why hadn't he said anything to me?

The corridors were empty at that time of the evening. My boots thumped along the carpeted expanse as I passed dozens of identical doors, marked only by a letter and a number, until I stopped at Eli's.

Solitude. He was in solitude. Meaning I should leave the basket at the door and not try to speak to him. That didn't feel right. It felt cold and cruel, especially considering what I knew of his past. I was still standing there, waffling in my indecision, when the crow hopped off my shoulder and tapped at the door. She twisted to stuff her beak in the crack at the bottom.

"You can't be here," I heard Eli say fondly. His voice sounded thick and exhausted as though he had been crying. "Go on, you'll get me in trouble."

"I think I would get you in more trouble," I said softly.

"Lock! I'm so sorry," Eli gasped. "I didn't know Abbot would put me in solitude without letting me tell you."

"It's ok. I'm leaving your basket out here," I said softly. "Ration it out, ok? You won't get anything else until this time tomorrow night."

"Ok," Elijah said sadly. "Lock... I-"

"Tell me when you get out, ok?" I interrupted him. Whatever he was going to say, I didn't want to hear it through a door. "This is important. The purification matters. I'll be here when you finish and I'll be next to you when you take your new oath. I promise. Be strong."

There was a moment, then his phone slipped through the crack under the door. We were allowed phones, but most devotees couldn't afford one unless they had family outside who provided it. The Abbot hadn't thought to take it. A little burst of pride lit my heart to see Eli willingly giving it up.

"I'll be strong," he whimpered back. "See you in five days."

I gathered his crow into a complaining bundle of feathers, took his phone, and left Eli there alone.

...

Elijah

I had plenty of experience of being in solitude. Eight years of my life were spent mostly alone, locked in my oracle chambers and speaking only to pilgrims who wanted me to read their futures. Then the uncounted amount of time I spent on that distant farm, locked in an old silo and being siphoned to make magic-laced drugs.

I was trying to remind myself that this was different. No one would hurt me in the temple, and there was an end in sight. There was a purpose. Lock told me the purification was important. I intended to take it seriously.

Or, at least, I was going to take it seriously once I finished panicking over being locked in my room alone. No, that wasn't right, I wasn't locked in. I could open the door. I did open the door to retrieve the small basket of meager provisions given to me to keep me from doing any real damage to myself.

I prayed. I meditated. I tried to envision the warm, comforting presence of Phoebus. My heart was still galloping on the afternoon of the second day. I was sobbing in frustrated exhaustion, furious at my own body for reacting so strongly to a danger that did not exist.

I wanted to go back to London. It almost felt like a fever dream in my dull hysteria. A place where Lock could hold me, Flynn could teach me, and Owen would keep us all safe with his terrifying array of skills. I closed my eyes and pictured that place full of people who loved me.

I woke up curled into a ball on the floor. The light from my window was fading into evening. My face felt tight and puffy, but my heart was finally calm in my chest.

I moved to my knees to pray.

...

Lock

My workshop felt empty without Eli. I'd grown accustomed to having him nearby. Throughout my day, I would catch myself turning to say something to the empty spot where he should have been. I shook that off. The purification was important and I knew it was much harder on Eli.

His phone buzzed in my pocket with a text from Flynn halfway through that lonely week.

"Hey! Haven't heard from you in a long time. You ok?"

I never got used to texting. I went into service when phones weren't tiny computers. So I just called him.

"Hey, it's Lock," I said when Flynn answered in his bright, happy way.

"Oh, hi!" He rolled with the change without comment.

"Elijah is in solitude this week to purify before he takes his new pledge, so I have his phone," I explained.

"Does he have his bird?" Flynn asked warily.

"No, she's with me."

Flynn was silent for a long, uncomfortable moment.

"That's, um, he shouldn't be locked away all alone. He needs the bird, at least. He's a meerkat," Flynn finally said. "A corvid. It's, um, do you understand? He shouldn't be alone."

"Yeah, I know," I sighed. "It's part of the process. I didn't know it would apply to changing an oath or I would have warned him."

"Is he in the dark?" Flynn asked.

"No, he's in his rooms. He has a window," I said. "He's not locked in. He can leave solitude if it's too hard."

"He won't," Flynn said quietly. "Um, can you be there at the end? When he opens the door? Can you be waiting there for him?"

"I will be whether it's allowed or not," I said firmly. Flynn sighed in relief.

"He's scared," Flynn added. "He, um, fuck, sorry. You already know all this, but it feels so bad. Dark clouds on the horizon, cold winds on hot days."

"Flynn, it's ok," I told him. "He can do this. He needs to do this without our help. Let him stand on his own feet this time."

"Right, right," Flynn answered. I heard him shudder through the phone.

"You ok?"

"Second sight," he muttered. "Lots of maybe futures, you know? It's vivid. Strange. I'm getting used to it."

"Eli will be ok," I assured Flynn. "He can do hard things. Trust him. He thinks you can do anything, believe in him just a little bit, ok?"

"Ok," Flynn sighed. "Let me know? When he's out and ok? Let me know?"

"I have a feeling you'll know whether I call you or not," I chuckled. "But I'll tell you when your little brother is safe again."

"And invite me to your wedding," he added with a giggle. "I'll be a good flower girl."

"Yeah, definitely," I agreed.

...

Elijah

I was absolutely sure of my decision. I was more certain of this choice than any I had ever made before. That surety helped me calm myself through the panic. The goal was worth facing the fear of isolation.

A life I wanted. A life I chose. A life of love and joy and service. It was all that I wanted and more than I ever imagined.

The days passed steadily. I was hungry, but that was distant. It was nothing compared to the aching starvation I had faced before.

I lost track of my days. A tap on my door shocked me from my prayers. It was early evening. I could see the glowing sunset leaking through my window. I slowly stood up. My legs felt wobbly and numb from kneeling, my head was foggy. I hesitantly opened the door.

Lock's perfect, pretty smile greeted me. My crow swooped through the door to fuss at me and settle on her usual perch. I stumbled forward into Lock's embrace without considering who might see.

He smelled like plants, rich soil, and the sweat of working in the sun all day. I missed that scent. I loved that scent. I sobbed as he pulled me in tight to rub soothing circles on my back.

"Hey," he said softly. "You did it. I'm so proud of you."

I couldn't answer. I just squeezed him as tightly as I could and buried my face in his robes. Lock chuckled and let me cling to him until I pulled myself together. I begrudgingly let him go and wiped my face.

"I'm ready," I said. Oof. I sounded hoarse and shaky.

"Let's go, then," he said.

"Can I tell you something before I do this?" I asked him. Lock tilted his head curiously and nodded. "I love you. Just, whatever is next, I need you to know."

Lock's dazzling smile set a blaze in my chest. He reached for me to curl his calloused fingers under my jaw.

"Oh, Eli," he sighed happily. "I love you, too. Everything will be ok. We are blessed, remember? A perfect fit."

"A perfect fit," I repeated softly. "Ok, now we can go."

...

Lock

The Abbot stood with Eli at the front of the sanctuary. We were all gathered for our weekly devotional service. It was the only time every member of the temple would be in one place.

I was in the front of the small gathering. There were about fifty of us in total, a mix of people from all walks of life working together for our common cause. Eli looked nervous as his eyes skipped over the crowd, searching for me. His crow must have known, she leapt from his shoulder to fly to me, drawing his gaze in the right direction. The sweet, relieved smile on his face nearly broke my heart.

"Friends," the Abbot called us to order. All chatter ceased immediately. "Our brother Elijah comes to us in a state of purity to announce a decision. Listen well."

She left him up there alone. Elijah, visibly shaking, gritted his teeth and took a deep breath. Oh, gods. He looked so vulnerable up there.

"Hello," he said softly. He cleared his throat and tried again. "Hello, I'm Elijah. I have prayed for guidance and come to you all to announce my choice to sacrifice the blessing of prophecy. Lord Phoebus willing, I will serve as an acolyte for the rest of my life."

There were mumblings among the gathered devotees. Prophecy wasn't a common gift. Sacrificing a blessing like that was nearly unheard of. They didn't understand. They didn't know his past.

"If Phoebus wills it, let it be so," the Abbot prompted the crowd. We all repeated the phrase, though there was hesitation in the congregation.

Elijah was trembling hard. I tapped his bird to urge her to return to him. She swooped across the empty space between us to perch on his shoulder again. That helped. A visual reminder that Elijah was favored by our patron.

"You will take your new oath tonight," the Abbot said. "Who among our numbers will you choose to witness?"

"Lock," Eli said immediately. "Hemlock. I choose Hemlock."

A small chuckle rolled through the crowd. No one was particularly surprised by that. Maybe we weren't as subtle as we tried to be.

"Hemlock, escort Elijah to the meditation room," the Abbot said. She sounded like she was trying not to laugh, as well. "I will join you shortly."

I led Eli out with a hand on the small of his back. I could feel him shaking as we walked in silence to the beautiful, plant-filled glass room that served as both public and private meditation space. The room was lit with low, subtle lights hidden among the vegetation. The night sky was visible through the glass above us. Eli sank to his knees and shuddered. I wrapped my arms around him and felt him melt into me.

"You did it," I whispered. "It's nearly over. I'm so, so proud of you."

"Lock, what's next?" he asked shakily.

"Next, the Abbot will strike your old oath," I explained. "Then you will take a new oath and accept a new mark."

"Strike my old oath," he repeated softly.

"It's going to hurt," I said apologetically. "The old brand has to be destroyed. She will brand over your scar with a flat plate. Then you'll get a new brand below that matches mine."

He nodded and swallowed nervously.

"And you can stay with me?" he whispered.

"I won't leave your side," I assured him. "And I'll take care of you after. I'll treat your new marks and tuck you into my bed."

"Your bed?" he said with that sweet, hopeful smile.

"Our bed," I amended. "My rooms are out in the gardens. I think you'll like them a lot."

The Abbot joined us eventually. I didn't bother to pretend Eli wasn't clinging to me. We were past the point of needing to hide. Abbot Teresa chuckled at the sight of us sitting on the floor in a tangle of limbs.

"I suppose we will be blessing a union, soon," she said with a smirk.

"He's moving his quarters to mine tonight," I said.

"No surprises there, Hemlock," Abbot said fondly. "Elijah, are you ready? I have prepared the necessary tools in the sanctuary."

"The sanctuary?" Elijah repeated in a small, horrified voice. "In front of everyone?"

"No," the Abbot assured him. "Everyone else has been released for the evening. It will be just the three of us. Our brazier is in that room."

"Right, ok," Elijah whispered. I helped him up and supported him back to the empty sanctuary. He knelt on the dias and clenched his eyes closed to avoid seeing the roaring brazier and the two long brands that were glowing malevolently inside.

I helped him lower the top half of his robes to bare his arms and torso. He was shivering even with the heat of the coals belching onto us from feet away. I knelt in front of him to hold his hands in mine.

"Elijah," the Abbot said gently. "Lock and I will walk you through this part. I apologize for the pain. It is, unfortunately, part of the sacrifice required of us. I will not draw it out unnecessarily."

Eli just nodded. I squeezed his hands. The Abbot took the first brand from the fire. She gave me a meaningful look over Eli's head. I nodded grimly. Neither of us really wanted to see him in pain.

"Hands on the floor, Eli," I said gently. "Brace yourself."

He was shaking as he followed my instructions. I moved to the opposite side of his brands to support him.

"I strike this oath in the name of our lord," the Abbot said solemnly. "Your blessings and responsibilities are no more."

Eli tried not to scream. He flinched against me, but I didn't let him escape the heat of the brand. A strangled, sobbing cry escaped him to land like a dagger in my chest. The Abbot pulled back to thrust the flat brand back into the fire.

Eli was covered in sweat and shaking with shock. He sobbed quietly against me in the silence of that room.

"You are no longer an oracle of Phoebus," the Abbot said quietly.

"If he wills it, let it be so," I said tightly.

"Elijah, you need to repeat this next part after me," the Abbot said gently. Eli nodded and tried to move to support himself again. Tears were running down his face to drip on the floor.

"I pledge my life to the service of Lord Phoebus," the Abbot started. Eli shakily whispered the words back. "I accept his blessings with joy and swear to use my talents to spread his love to my fellow man."

Eli couldn't stop his scream with the second brand. I held him up and shook with my own tears. He went limp in my lap after the Abbot pulled the searing metal off his skin again. I stroked his hair and let him cry.

"Welcome to our ranks, brother," the Abbot said quietly.

"It is willed, let it be so," I whispered.

...

Elijah

Lock's space was bigger than mine. His rooms turned out to be a small annex to his workshop that amounted to a little apartment with a small living room stuffed with botany books, his bedroom that was full of plants on shelves and suspended from the ceiling, and a little bathroom.

I didn't appreciate the cozy apartment much that first night. Lock gently applied some of the ointments he made and bandaged my aching, burning arm. I fell asleep with my head in his lap, sobbing with pain and the exhaustion of the week.

My arm was throbbing the next morning, but my head was clearer after some rest. Lock was asleep, still sitting up with his back to the wall and my body cradled in his lap. I blinked in the bright, glorious morning light. Lock's rooms had a lot more windows than mine. With all the plants in the room, it was almost like waking up deep in the woods.

"Eli," Lock murmured softly. I looked up into his worried, tired eyes and immediately clawed the blankets off to crawl up into his arms.

"Lock," I whimpered. "Please. You promised."

"What did I promise?" he chuckled as he settled me in his arms. Right where I fit perfectly.

"You promised you would kiss me," I said. "Please, Lock? Please?"

Lock didn't hesitate. He tilted my head back and drew my lips to his. It was gentle and slow, his soft lips eased mine open as I relaxed into the pleasure of his touch. An embarrassing little whimper slipped from my mouth to his, Lock responded with a needy growl that shook me to my core.

He let me go but kept me close, looking into my eyes with the icy, diamond blue of his heated gaze.

"Gorgeous," he whispered to me. "You are gorgeous like this."

I gasped as his lips found mine again. It was harder that time, forceful and urgent with his tongue plundering my mouth in an unimaginable, ecstatic explosion of new sensation.

He stopped himself, panting and chuckling, to look into my eyes again.

"Your arm," he said.

"I don't care," I whined, trying to drag his lips back to mine.

"Let me clean it and change your bandages," he said gently. "Then I'm yours. I cleared the next few days to care for you."

I let him go, but I didn't hide my disappointment. Lock laughed at me, kissed my forehead, and gathered the supplies he needed to care for my injuries. He hissed in empathy as he peeled off the old bandages.

"I can't heal it, I'm sorry," he said quietly as he very gently cleaned my arm and reapplied his ointments. "It has to heal naturally. It's tradition."

I listened to his soft, deep voice in an effort to ignore the pain in my arm. I wanted to push that off and drag Lock back to the bed with me. We were finally together without any oaths or doubts hanging over us. I didn't want to be limited again. There was no denying the tears on my face just from changing the bandage, though. Lock wiped my cheeks off and pressed his lips over the tear tracks.

"Lock, I'm sorry," I whimpered. "It hurts so much. I don't know if I can, um..."

"Shhhh," he shushed me. "We're together. That's more than enough. We have a lifetime ahead of us to explore. There's nothing that has to happen today."

I nodded miserably. He went to put the tee shirt I was sleeping in back on, but I stopped him and tugged at his shirt.

"No more layers between us," I mumbled. "Please?"

Lock chuckled and shed his shirt. He looked so pretty there among his plants in just his boxers. Delicious muscles and tanned skin, tan even beneath his robes, somehow, long, elegant curves that highlight his narrow waist and the flare of his hips. I moaned softly just seeing his skin in the sunshine.

"You're beautiful," I whispered reverently. Lock smirked at me and approached slowly. He put one hand in the center of my chest and gently eased me back on the bed until I was flat on my back with him hovering over me.

I shuddered at the weight and warmth of his body pressing me down. Lock leaned down to kiss me again. I was lost in his influence, all pain forgotten as he coaxed my mouth open again to share our souls.

I reached for him without thinking and gasped at the pain of moving my arm. I whined in frustration. Lock chuckled and settled beside me.

"Relax," he purred in my ear. "Let's slow this down."

"But I want you so bad," I whimpered.

"I know you do," he chuckled. I nearly jumped out of my skin when he kissed just below my ear and started trailing his lips along my sensitive neck, leaving little kisses and the rasp of his beard behind. "You'll get me. But we're going easy, ok? That's going to hurt a whole lot more if you break the scabs open."

"Ok," I panted. "But, um, Lock, I've never, um, this is my first..."

"Eli, baby," Lock laughed and laid his head on my head to grin up at me. "I know. Wasn't the whole point of all of this work because you're a virgin? It's ok. I've got you."

"Are you, um..." I trailed off. Maybe that was a rude question.

"Am I a virgin? No, I'm not," he said carefully. "Does that bother you?"

"No," I mumbled nervously. "I was just, um, curious. Sorry."

"Remember what I said?" Lock's sexy purr was back. He nipped lightly at my skin and swiped his tongue over my nipple. "You can ask anything about me. Anything you want to know. I'm an open book for you."

I couldn't answer him. He knocked my brain out of the game by palming my chest and kissing his way down my stomach to tease the elastic of my underwear.

"Can these come off, baby?" he asked me. I nodded desperately and lifted my hips to help him. Lock grinned when confronted with proof of his power over me. I was achingly hard already, twitching and dripping precum.

"Oooh, it's even better up close," he sighed happily. I squeaked in surprise when he leaned in to lick the dripping tip. He giggled and looked up at me. "You make the cutest noises."

"Take yours off, Lock," I gasped. "Please?"

He grinned and obliged me. I pushed myself up, being careful of my injury that time, and tentatively kissed his chest. Goosebumps prickled his skin at the contact. He groaned, spurring me to lick and nip at his skin the way he had done to me. Lock giggled and pulled me up to kiss me again.

I sighed into that kiss, pressing our exposed skin together and trembling as his fingers trailed hot lines over me. He gently touched my twitching erection. I moaned at the light contact and pressed into his hand. Lock chuckled and stroked me as he kissed my mind away.

I remembered I had hands about then and gripped at his narrow waist. Lock spread his legs and guided my hand down to feel the heat and slick wetness there. I gasped and broke our kiss to see his face as I tentatively explored his soft, welcoming folds.

"Oh, gods, Lock," I moaned softly. He smirked as his eyes lost focus and his hips chased my touch. "How do I, um...? I don't know..."

"Just explore," he purred happily. "Be gentle and explore."

"Can I, um, will you," I stammered.

"Relax, Eli," he said softly. "There's no rush and no pressure. What do you need?"

"Lay back on the bed?" I asked him. "Can I see you?"

Lock gave me one last, quick kiss, then untangled our limbs to lay back on the bed for me. My mouth ran dry as he spread his legs and smiled.

"Come here," he growled.

I scrambled to sit between his knees, gaping dumbly at that most vulnerable place he so eagerly offered me. I dipped my fingertips through the warm, slick moisture of his excitement. Lock groaned as I curiously touched his engorged clitoris. That seemed different than I expected. I knew, medically speaking, what a vulva looked like. I didn't think it included nearly four inches of thick, sensitive nerves.

"Lock?" I said. He blinked and smiled dreamily at me.

"What, you beautiful boy?" he purred.

"I don't know how to ask this, but, um, is this usually so big?" I asked. I stroked that erect bundle like he had stroked me. Lock gasped and twitched under my hands.

"You can't do that if you want me to talk," he laughed breathlessly.

"Bad?"

"Good. So good," he assured me. "That's what I got from testosterone. T can't grow me a dick and balls, but I'm happy with what I have. It works for me. Call it my dick and we'll treat it like one."

"Your dick is so hard," I whispered. "And your, um, your hole is so wet. You're dripping on the bed."

Lock moaned and reached down to spread his lips for me, baring the source of all that wetness to my hungry eyes.

"I'm in the middle, baby," he giggled. "You can call it my pussy. I'm the lucky enby who got exactly what I wanted."

"You're perfect," I mumbled stupidly. I slid my fingers over his pussy, tracing around the rim. Lock hummed happily.

"Hmm, don't let me rush you," he giggled. "But feel free to slide a finger or two in there. I'm aching for you."

I did as he asked, sliding one finger into that warm, velvet softness. He groaned in appreciation. I stroked the wet, twitching walls of his pussy and slowly slipped a second finger in. Lock bucked suddenly at my aimless exploration.

"Ooh, right there baby," he sighed.

I repeated that motion and tentatively brought my other hand to stroke his dick, as well. My aching arm was long forgotten in my need to touch this perfect, perfect person. Lock gasped and met my movements until we found a rhythm that sent his eyes rolling back. I watched in dumb fascination, desperate to see him, feel him, shatter for me.

"Lock, please," I gasped. "Please, please cum for me."

That did it. Lock growled deep in his chest, his thighs clamped down on my hands, and his pussy convulsed around my fingers. I felt a flood of new wetness on my hands as I watched the most beautiful person I had ever met fall apart just for me.

He eventually went limp, giggling and gasping. Lock dragged me to him to kiss me as his warm, talented hands wrapped around my begging dick. I lasted barely three pumps before I came all over his hands and my stomach. Lock kissed me through it like he could meld our souls if he tried hard enough.

We panted in each other's arms, exchanging little kisses and sweet giggles as we calmed down. Lock stroked my sweaty hair off my forehead, I tucked his long, silky tresses behind his ears.

"I love you," he whispered.

"I love you," I giggled. "Can you bandage my arm again?"

Lock laughed and got to work treating my wounds all over again.

...

Flynn

I was halfway up an abandoned, half finished office tower in Beijing. The floor I was on was littered with broken glass bottles and the other remnants of someone's wild parties. The building was just a skeleton of steel and concrete without any glass to stop the winds from sweeping through hard enough to make me stumble. I stayed away from the unguarded ledges and the oblivion beyond.

I ducked back into the relative shelter of the stair tower to answer my ringing phone.

"Is it too soon to ask you to come back?" Elijah asked without saying hi.

I laughed and crouched against the wall to rest while we chatted.

"Why am I coming back?" I asked him. I knew why. It was hard not to know things after my encounter with Phoebus.

"Lock said you volunteered to be our flower girl," Elijah answered.

"Oh, yeah. I look really cute in pigtails," I told him, earning a delighted laugh from my brother. "So you did it? Oath changed successfully?"

"You already know, don't you?" he questioned me curiously.

"Yeah, but I want to hear it from you," I said. "Tell me how it went."

Elijah explained the process in detail, including the branding. I winced in sympathy. I had a few brands. I'd switched to tattooing myself for a reason. There was a nice, warm feeling in my chest as he giddily told me about the apartment he now shared with Lock out in the gardens. He described it like a fantasy cottage from a soft focused fairytale.

"Bonding ceremonies aren't a big ordeal among acolytes," he explained. "It's really just the Abbot saying a prayer over us. But I wouldn't even be alive to meet Lock without you and Owen. I would love it if you could come."

"I have some things I have to finish before I can come back," I said. "My lady was really patient to let me help you for so long in London. Can you wait a little while? Maybe until the Spring?"

"We can wait," Elijah confirmed. "Be careful painting your shrines."

"I'm never careful," I laughed. "But I'll be fast and clever."

"Be fast and clever, then," he laughed. "Love you, brother."

"Love you!"

I hefted my backpack full of paint back to my shoulders and turned back to my hike up the countless stairs. My lady would be very pleased with the shrine I planned to leave at the top of the tower. She would appreciate the place high above the city.

The wind was bracing and clean so high up. I laughed into the night and took the stairs in twos in my eagerness to spread her glory.