Speechless, Quin searched for something to say. A rebuttal. A counter-argument. A reason to refuse because she was so very, very scared. There had been many reasons why she’d never truly gone after something she wanted. Her mother’s approval and societal expectations, sure. But the biggest was the fear of losing, of failing, of rejection. She couldn’t fail at something she never tried; she couldn’t lose what she never had to begin with.
But she wasn’t a coward. Or maybe, she didn’t want to be a coward anymore.
“What about you?” she finally managed to ask, because it did matter.
“I’ll be fine. I’ll travel. I’ve always wanted to see the human dimension. Maybe apply for an academic residency at Cambridge.”
This was the first time Quin was hearing about anything like that. “Cambridge? In England?” He nodded, and she half-laughed, half-cried. “Why did you never tell me you wanted that?”
“I never thought it would fit in with the plan,” he admitted with a shrug. “What? You think you’re the only one capable of self-sacrifice? I’m offended.”
Laughing through her tears, she threw her arms around his neck and hugged him tightly. “I don’t know how I got so lucky with you.”
He wrapped his arms around her and held her close, kissing her temple near the base of her horn. “Imagine what a power couple we would have been if we’d been born heterosexual.”
She pulled back enough to frame his face in her hands. “We could have really loved each other.”
With a scoff, he rolled his eyes. “We do love each other, you daft dyke.” Then he kissed her right on the mouth, close-lipped and brief. A mere peck, but it was full of affection. And yes, love.
They parted, and Quin glared up at him. “Daft dyke?”
“Well, you can be rather thick sometimes,” he said with a wink, unwinding his arms from around her. “Now, go get your lady, Miss Duboi.”
“What? Now?” A different type of panic gripped her. “But… it’s so late.”
“Quinastasia Duboi,” Waryn shouted, making her jolt at his sudden volume. “You will not be a coward. I will not stand for it.”
“You know I hate that name,” she grumbled, but he continued as if she hadn’t spoken.
“Either you go to Glyma and fight for her, or I will go get her and bring her here.” He made a face, like he smelled something bad. “Please, don’t make me do that. I really don’t want to listen to you two mashing your genitals together all night.”
Quin balked. “I beg your pardon? Mashing genitals?”
“Yes.” He pantomimed offensively, rubbing the heels of his palms together. “From my understanding, there is much smooshing.”
“Smooshing?” she shrieked in horror.
“That’s not the point.” He pointed toward the front door. “Get out of here this instance, and go get the woman you probably love—if not now, then you will in the future. Presumably after the genital smooshing.”
“Stop saying,smooshing,and definitely don’t add,genitalbefore it,” she snarled.
“I will not stop,” he said haughtily, crossing his arms over his chest. “I will say even worse things if it gets you to leave.”
Quin glared. Waryn grinned gleefully.
“I’ve heard scissoring is a thing for you ladies,” he said, and she turned on her heels with a wordless cry and stalked out of the study. “Have fun, and be safe. Enjoy losing your lesbian virginity, my darling!”
Face on fire, heart racing a mile a minute, Quin closed her eyes, pictured Glyma’s building, and teleported, launching herself into the unknown for the first time in her life. She prayed Glyma would be waiting for her on the other side. She didn’t want to face the dark alone.
Chapter ten
Genital Smooshing
Glyma
Glyma had just gottenout of the shower when she heard the chime of the doorbell. Hurriedly donning her bathrobe, she checked her phone to make sure she hadn’t missed a call from someone letting her know they were coming over, but there were no new notifications or missed messages. The doorbell rang again, followed by a knock, and she ensured her robe was cinched tight as she padded through her flat.
It wasn’t overly late, but most visitors wouldn’t drop in unannounced at this time of night unless there was an emergency of some kind. Maybe it was Krul? He usually texted first, but it wasn’t entirely unrealistic for him to forget to hit Send, then show up, assuming she was expecting him.
