Raised to Kill (Kindred Tales)

Allara had thought this was a lovely custom. Though she had once been shocked at the idea of singing outside the Song House, she was beginning to see that music could have a part in all areas of life.

“That’s wonderful,” Brand said. “Maybe Allara and I will do some singing ourselves this evening.”

“Well, I understand that the two of you have just been Joined.” The Prime Minister winked at him expressively. “So I won’t be surprised if I hear a love song coming from the balcony of your suite.”

Brand had laughed and squeezed Allara’s hand under the table, which sent a little nervous chill down her spine. She knew what kind of “singing” her husband wanted to do with her that night but the idea of him pressing his mouth to her pussy still made her uneasy.

“You know, baby,” Brand said later, while they were unpacking in the plush hotel suite they had been given to stay in during their visit. “Darden Three is even more beautiful than I was told. I can’t think of a better place to spend our Tasting Week.”

He was eyeing the vast bed as he said this. It had a strange construction. Rather than four bedposts or any kind of a platform to rest on, it had four thick, strong ropes, one at each corner, which were attached to a sturdy wooden frame on the ceiling. If you even brushed it a little, it swayed with a lazy rhythm that was—according to the Darden guide who had showed them to their room—very good for inducing sleep.

“Of course, it’s also helpful for other things,” he’d added, winking broadly at Brand, who had laughed and sent him on his way with a generous tip.

The other Darden furniture was set up the same way. There was also a swinging chair on the balcony overlooking the pink, sandy beach. They had been told the view of the sunset over the ocean was spectacular and now Allara could see that it was true. The sun was half-set in a glory of pink and orange clouds as it dipped beneath the sea.

“Our Tasting Week? Oh, yes,” Allara said nervously, bringing herself back to the present. “But…do we not have to wait until the night to do…what it is that we do during this week?” she added in a rush.

“Baby…” Brand stepped away from the bed and cupped her cheek in his hand. “Are you nervous about letting me taste you?” he rumbled softly.

“Well…” Allara hung her head, looking down at the toe of her slipper as she drew patterns in the plush carpet.

“Because there’s nothing to be afraid of,” Brand murmured. “You know I would never hurt you, right?”

“I know that, husband.” She was able to say this with absolute certainty after what she had learned during their Bathing Week. “It’s just…” She stopped, not sure how to go on.

“Just what, sweetheart?” Brand asked softly. “Whatever it is, you can tell me. I promise I won’t be upset.”

“It’s just that among my people it is considered so wrong for a man to press the source of his Song to any part of a woman’s body,” Allara burst out at last. “I do not understand why you would wish to lower yourself to do so. It is as though you decided to sing the secondary part instead of choosing to sing the first or Ascendant part.”

A smiled twitched the corners of Brand’s sensual mouth.

“I love how you just compared singing harmony to tasting pussy.”

“But you see what I mean, don’t you?” Allara asked. “I do not understand why you—why any male—would wish to do this…tasting.”

“Come with me. Let me see if I can show you.” Brand took her by the hand and led her out onto the balcony overlooking the sunset and the sea.

“Oh!” Allara murmured, because once they stepped outside, the sound of voices could be heard, ringing out over the waters. Some were faint and some were nearby but all were musical and true. It seemed that the Darden custom of singing to the sunset was in full effect. “This is beautiful,” she murmured. “The way they raise their Songs to sing to the sunset.”

“I want us to sing to the sunset too, baby,” Brand told her.

Allara bit her lip. “Both of us? At once? Entwining our Songs?”

“I want you to sing first,” he said.

“Yes, husband,” Allara said. “But…what shall I sing?”

“Sing the song I sang to you during our wedding reception—I know you remember it. You never forget a piece of music,” Brand told her. “And no matter what happens, don’t stop singing—all right?”

“Yes, husband,” Allara said again. For one did not disobey one’s husband. Lifting her voice, she began to sing.

“You feel the wind against your cheek

It is my love.

You see the stars in space so deep

It is my love…