In Fledgling Whispers (Book 3 of The Transition of Pinn)
Convincing (Chapter 19)

Rachel:

I push the Master Priest into a dimly lit storage room filled with the laundered white robes that worshipers wear after they have completed their bathing ritual. The offensive garments hang from small wooden pegs on the stone walls and congregate in large overstuffed wicker baskets. Large glass jars filled with powdery washing soap collect dust in one of the corners.

His deep masculine smell of pine twitches my nose before it’s overpowered by the heavy scent of washing chemicals. I want to lean in and take another sniff as he walks further into the room, but I resist.

I shut the door behind us carefully and the Master Priest turns to look at me. sᴇaʀᴄh thᴇ FɪndNøvel.ɴᴇt website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

“Rachel?” he asks worriedly.

It is then that I nearly break down. I was strong when they took the crying children away from their mother, I was strong when they pulled an unconscious Ava out of my arms, I was strong as I rushed back to the temple, my mind racing and my heart pounding, but it’s so hard to keep it in any longer. With the tiredness and stress of witnessing labor and then the breakup of a family, I can barely hold myself together.

Warm arms wrap around me as I am tucked into a broad shoulder. The scent of pine grows strong again.

“Rachel?” he repeats.

“They took them” I force out, muffled by the gauzy robes that cover his chest.

“What?”

I lean back, out of his comforting arms, placing my hands on his chest for some distance, and I look into his face, squinting through the tears in the back of my eyes. “The Redeemer took Ava and they took her children away”

He looks at me quizzically, like he doesn’t understand.

“You have to do something” I demand as I grip the front of his robe. He can do something, I know he can. Priests have the ability to do almost anything with us, he just has to want to.

Instead of telling me he would free them, he looks away, avoiding my eyes. “What happened?”

I try to hold back the disappointment washing over me. He has to help. “Ava’s baby was born with the green eyes of the forest people. I don’t know, Ava is a good priestess, she follows all the rules- she would never risk her kids like that. One of them must’ve made it into the temple. And now… now the Redeemer has her, she didn’t do anything, you have to help her” I ramble in my desperation.

He pursues his thick lips, still not looking at me “there is nothing I can do”

A pain hits me somewhere in the chest at the same time a sour feeling turns in my stomach. The Master Priest, the man who is standing up to the High Priest, the man who said he would save us, my hero, will do nothing. No, it’s not right, he has to do something. I grip his robes impossibly tighter.

No, he will do something.

I may have spent my months at the temple wrapped in my own despair, not planning for my future, floating from one miserable day to the next, but I am not stupid. I have seen how priestesses and priests interact, I have seen how they trade favors. I have heard stories of how priestesses get information out of Aaron; I’ve walked in on priests and priestesses fucking in a dark hallway; I’ve seen how priestesses who use their bodies get special privileges.

I stiff my resolve. My body is cheap, used by Pinns for their own gain without much thought for my wants- at least in this, I would be choosing to use it to help my friend.

So, I lean in pressing my breasts firmly against his chest. I feel a little unsure of myself, but I force myself to continue. I flatten my hands against his chest and work up my best pout and whisper seductively, “please, I would do anything.”

That grabs his attention and his eyes swing back to stare down at me. His mouth opens and then closes, and then opens again, his pupils dilate. It’s like he can’t decide what to say and perhaps I have gone too far, but screw it, at least if I am going to embarrass myself it will be in the service of my friend.

I try to lean in even further and rub my breasts against him.

“Rachel, I…”

I can hear the denial in his voice, but I refuse to give in, “Please, anything you can do”

He sighs, but he doesn’t take his eyes off of me and I take it as my opening. I grab his left hand that was resting by his side and place it directly on my breast. When he still doesn’t react, I begin to move my hand slowly down his chest, gracing his stomach, before going straight for his member. I grab it softly, he’s already hard, and begin rubbing.

His eyes half close and he lets out a low groan. I can hear the frustration in the groan- the desire to say yes but the want to say no. I have to push him over the edge.

I grip him harder in my hand and I am rewarded with a strong pulse. I decide to go for the kill. He is too tall for me to reach his lips, but I stand on my tiptoes and close my eyes, tilting my head in obvious invitation.

Will he deny me?

*****

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