Desert World Rebirth Read Online Free Page B

Priest’,” Temar said softly.
    Shan felt a wave of horror run through him. “Oh, please tell me that it’s not about….”
    “Yep. You get the starring role. I’m the sweet young man who makes you question your faith.”
    Shan closed his eyes and struggled to find some core of calm that would allow him to avoid the emotional explosion he could feel building in his chest. She had no right. Worse, her ballad was a lie, and considering that Livre’s history was largely told through song, that was a sin in itself. “I’ll hold Wistia down if you want to drop the sandrat on her stomach and let it chew through her,” Shan finally offered. No wonder Temar was having trouble keeping his emotional balance. It worried Shan that Temar didn’t react to his joking threat at all. He decided to take the ballad more seriously.
    “Div must have objected; he must be telling people that she’s wrong. I didn’t leave the church because I chose you over God. God showed me that I needed to walk another path.” Shan thought about the events leading up to his decision. “Actually, God showed me, I ignored him, and God sort of shoved me off into the dirt because I wasn’t listening.”
    Temar nodded, but he stayed silent. Reaching up, Shan ran his fingers through Temar’s hair. Sweat stained the blond strands darker where they stuck together.
    “I care about you, Temar, but my choice to leave the church came from a realization that I didn’t fit there.”
    Temar got an arm under him and propped himself up, one hand braced on Shan’s chest. “I don’t want to think that I took away something important. I mean, the church was important to you, and I thought maybe you weren’t touching me because you weren’t sure about leaving it.”
    Shan shook his head. “God is important to me. Well, the church is, too, but not as a priest. I haven’t given up God, I haven’t given up the church, and I should have given up the priesthood a long time ago. I can love the first two and still love you.”
    “So, I’m not breaking any God rules here?” Temar asked. He hadn’t been one for coming to church until he was a young man. His father had blamed God when Temar’s mother died, so Shan doubted old Erqu Gazer would have taught Temar much of anything about the word.
    “The Gospel does favor marriage before the sex,” Shan started slowly, “but that’s what forgiveness is for.”
    “Marriage.” Temar swallowed, and Shan could have kicked himself for bringing that up so soon. They weren’t even an hour past their first sexual act, and he was bringing up marriage. Truly he was a fool when it came to relationships.
    Shan hurried to say, “We don’t have to—”
    “Do you think about marriage, about us and being married?” Temar gave Shan such an intense look that the easy answer that had had been resting on the tip of his tongue vanished. Temar didn’t want an easy answer; he didn’t want some apology for pressing forward too fast.
    Swallowing all his fears, Shan braced himself to tell the truth. “I do. I suppose I hope, if this works out between us, that you’ll be willing to give it a try even if neither one of us has a great role model.” Both their mothers had died young and both their fathers had been some variation on failure.
    Temar’s smile was slow and timid, but he gave a little nod. “Wistia is going to write a new ballad.” That sounded a lot like a yes. Shan swallowed, emotions pressing up faster than he could really think them through or even feel them.
    “As long as she gets her facts straight this time, that’s fine.” Temar settled back down onto the pillow, their legs still tangled, and Shan realized that, in the end, it didn’t matter. When confused, Temar came to him and asked him outright if he was interested, and as long as they turned to each other in trouble, they’d be fine. Wistia, on the other hand, was going to face a council complaint as soon as Shan could get a copy of the words to