Her Alien Priest by Michele Mills
Lorelei
Cabal takes my hand, as if providing comfort.
I told him I committed a crime and his first reaction is to reach out to me? Most beings would’ve rejected me outright.
His huge red hand with the silver-tipped claws engulfs my small human fingers. He’s actually been holding my hand a lot. And I haven’t protested. In fact, it seems…right.
I swallow hard and continue to gaze up at him. Why are we sitting so close? Why am I about to tell him my humiliating story? I can’t help it; I have this overwhelming need to open up to him.
We can’t even talk!
But, this close, he smells so good. Like altar spices, candles, soil and sunshine. And somehow, this terrifying monster looks sexy in his brown, scratchy priest robe.
I cannot believe I’ve been banished to a nunnery only to discover it’s not an actual nunnery. I’m in a remote monastery with one inhabitant, a red-skinned Hyrrokin priest named Cabal Firestone who has taken epic vows of silence and celibacy. His features are straight out of my worst nightmares. He literally looks like Satan. At first I thought they’d dumped me off in a torture chamber, or the pits of hell. Cabal looks like the monster mothers warn their children about in order to get them to behave. Two shiny black horns burst from his red forehead. White fangs peek past his black lips. I can see the occasional tip of a forked tongue.
And he breathes fire.
Cabal is a full head taller than the three guards who brought me here. His robe is cut in the back to allow his large black barbed tail access to jab the air behind him as he walks. And that tail is right now curled around my hips and the pointy end is next to my thigh and I find it doesn’t bother me in the least.
His jaw distended and opened extra wide, allowing him to blast a huge flame directly at the three Gravian guards who’d brought me here, causing their hair to catch on fire. I was delighted to see them squirm. The three of them were scared of one Hyrrokin Priest? Salo is the Gravians’ home planet and their species looks similar to humans but they are much stronger. The guards were armed with blasters but raced out of the sanctuary, running for their lives.
Seeing the guards receive their comeuppance was one of the best moments of my life. I’m so very tired of males who haven’t even done their homework, being in charge of my very existence. Those jerks snatched me off the transporter disk without bothering to make sure they had the right human. They brought me to the wrong placement and dumped me, like trash, on the main altar. Grrr.
I don’t mind Cabal Firestone being in charge though. This is because he treats me with respect. He protected me and punished my tormentors. Never in my life has anyone stood up for me like that. I immediately began to see that maybe this male was a “good monster.” After all, he’s a High Priest on the pilgrimage route of Salo. Only beings who are the most humble and noble are given these types of famed positions. I’m a little in awe of him.
I can’t believe I’m going to tell Cabal my actual crime and why I was kicked out by my own family because they don’t want me. It’s something I thought I’d never admit to another living soul for the rest of my life, but there’s something special about this gentle monster. Yes, I screamed and screamed when I first met him, but I quickly realized his worth and I’ve been chatting his ear off ever since.
Cabal wasn’t remotely expecting a human trainee to arrive on his doorstep and is as surprised as I am that I’m here. He could easily have been grumpy over having been burdened with me, but he’s been nothing but kind—giving me a room, feeding me and holding my hand, which is lovely.
He wants me to call him by his first name.
I lift my chin and stare into his ink-black eyes, intrigued by their depth and beauty. The more I look at him, the more I see how strong and masculine he is. The stark contrast of his red skin against his black horns is mesmerizing. His nose is large and a bit crooked, but very proud and in fact aristocratic. The giant barbed tail, which juts out from a cut in his robe and is still resting next to my thigh, is not nearly as “scary-looking” as before, when I was trailing behind him in the corridor, or when I caught that first shadowy glimpse of him ferociously towering over me at the main altar.
His black lips are full and sensuous. And I wonder what it would be like to kiss a male with such large fangs. I don’t view him as an ugly “monster” as the guards described him. I see him as a strong male. My fingers itch to touch more than just his hand. My gaze trails down his corded neck to the collar of his brown robe. What does he look like under all that fabric? If he hadn’t taken vows of celibacy, could a Hyrrokin male ever be interested in mating a human female?
I swallow, forcing my thoughts back to the explanation I need to give. This male is simply being nice to me. I might be attracted to this hero who saved me, but nothing is ever going to happen between us. He’s taken two very serious vows and I need to help him accomplish this spiritual journey. He’s going to be my mentor/priest until my placement is figured out. I’m not staying here forever. Someone will realize their error. I’m supposed to be locked away with militant nuns who will make sure I serve my penance, not living alone with a sexy priest. A correction will be made. Until then, I need to stop staring at his muscles.
Cabal holds my hand and patiently waits for me to continue my story. He’s a priest used to giving counsel. He’s actually the safest being for me to bare my soul to. I know if I tell him, he’ll never tell another being. It will stay between, us and the gods.
I swallow, lick my lips, then admit: “I suppose you want to know what my crime was…well, um, what happened is that my mother found me touching myself…down there,” I whisper. And of course his dark gaze drops to my lap before quickly darting back to my face. I shift on the bench, suddenly restless due to the heat blooming between my thighs. “And my father, the High Priest of our community, found out I’d been trying to pleasure myself, so I was banished to a nunnery.”
Smoke wafts from his flared nostrils. I’m assuming he doesn’t like what I’m saying? I blush harder. “I know I shouldn’t be trying to pleasure myself, but I was reading romance ebooks and learning about relationships and I—I was really lonely and I wanted love and intimacy and—”
He bangs a fist on the table. My eyes fly up to meet his harsh gaze. He gives a curt shake of his head. Then he reaches forward, cups my cheek in his claw and brushes the tip of a rough finger against my lower lip.
Oh wow. What is this? A woosh of hot butterflies flutter in my belly. I guess I’m attracted to this satanic-looking being who took me in? I’ve known him all of sixty minutes and I’m putty in his giant claws. But he’s taken a vow of celibacy. Vow. Of. Celibacy. He’s just being kind; I can’t think his touch is anything more than a priest performing his duty to a new trainee. We aren’t even the same species. Maybe all Hyrrokin hold each other’s hands and like to touch each other a lot? Maybe I’m the only fool who thinks this is a sign that he cares about me as more than a potential trainee. And also, maybe an overweight human female isn’t what he’d ever consider sexy.
I pull back and shake my head, trying to keep my thoughts straight. I can’t entertain the idea of this priest breaking his vows. That would be evil. I don’t know why he decided to take such drastic vows, but I admire his dedication and I am here to support him. “I can’t believe I told you that,” I admit. “I thought I was going to go to my grave never having told another being that story. It was very humiliating.”
He cuts short our confessional. He takes my hand again and pulls me out of my seat and proceeds to give me a tour of the entire monastery. This makes me happy because I instantly forget what happened back home and the consequences. I’m so very relieved that he knows my darkest secret and yet gives me an entirely opposite reaction from what I received from my own family. He doesn’t seem to really care at all and it doesn’t change the way he reacts to me.
I like this male so much.
We finish a tour of the first floor and stop for midday prayers. My footsteps echo as we stride through the quiet sanctuary. Cabal is barefoot and his steps are as silent as his vows. The heavy wooden doors are closed now, and pale light filters down from rows of arched windows. This is a very ancient monastery desperately in need of repair. Light peeks through holes in the roof.
I kneel before the altar next to Cabal and imitate his motions. He performs the rituals slightly different than we did back home, but the same statues are all here, as are the specific arrays of candles. He bows his head and spends time in quiet prayer. I do the same. Peace rushes through me. This was always my favorite time back home—when I could speak directly with the gods and give up to them my worries and fears. The gods are my non-judgmental best friends. I’m happy to have time to update them on what is happening with me. I finish my prayer with words of gratitude for the High Priest of Westmore. Obviously the multigods placed me under Cabal Firestone’s protection and I’m grateful for their intervention on my behalf.
After prayers are concluded, Cabal guides me upstairs and continues his tour. I wish he could talk and explain everything, but instead we tread in silence. He pulls me close and points at things he must consider important. We end up in his office, which is directly next to the most amazing library of ancient print books I’ve ever seen.
“Oh, dear gods.”
It’s amazing. I run into the middle of the book-lined room and twirl around in a circle, trying to take in the wonder and the glory of so many words in one place. The smell of paper and ink is exhilarating. The bookcases go all the way up to an elaborate vaulted ceiling. I’ve never seen anything like this in real life. The arched windows are as big as the windows in the sanctuary. A large comfy chair is placed in front of a huge stone fireplace lit with a cheery, crackling flame.
“This is your favorite spot, isn’t it?”
He rests a claw on the back of the chair and looks proudly at the books lining the walls. Then his dark gaze settles back to mine and he gives a curt nod of agreement.
This monastery has no modern conveniences. No running water, only a well with a pump in the garden, right outside the kitchen. An ancient bathroom is affixed to the back wall, with an aqueduct of water running under the potty seat. In the middle of the night or if the weather doesn’t permit, I guess I’m supposed to use a chamber pot? None of this is too different from back home though. My community was not only communal and more religious than most, but we also rid ourselves of the “evils” of modern life. We did use modern farming equipment and a vehicle for transportation and there was one set of communication equipment in case of emergency, but not much else of the outside universe. I was raised with handmade candles, hand-sewn clothing and home-grown, fresh food. No food dispensers, cleaning bots or clothing fabricators. There are none here either and this doesn’t bother me. I never wanted to leave the community because I longed for technology. I enjoy simplicity and eating what I’ve grown. All I’ve ever wanted is the ability to genuinely be myself, without judgment. And maybe treated like an equal?
After the tour, Cabal takes me back to the garden and we spend time harvesting more vegetables for tonight’s dinner and tomorrow’s breakfast. Then we go together to the kitchen and cook dinner side by side. Without saying a word, he teaches me how to make tonight’s dish. There’s lots of pointing and grunting and him modeling and me copying. But I show him how to melt cheese on top and he’s pleasantly surprised at my cooking skills. I smile the entire time, giggle often and continue to chat his ear off. This is the first time in my life a man has entered into a kitchen with me. I’ve never made a meal with a man or eaten with any male other than my brother and father. It makes me wonder if there were men back home who wished they could’ve traded places with me—who would have liked to garden, bake and cook rather than working on the machinery, in the offices and on the finances. I’ve never wondered about that before today, but it makes sense. It’s never good for anyone to be stuck in gender-or species-defined roles that aren’t right for their personality or skill type. Right?
After we’ve both eaten our fill of a delicious dinner, we perform evening absolutions together. Practitioners of the multigod religion pray three times per day, so we bend on our knees again. The sun has set, and the main altar is even more beautiful in the evening, sparkling in the glow of hundreds of white candles.
I’m used to the men starting evening chants, but Cabal is silent. I find I miss the sounds I’m used to hearing at this time, so I clear my throat and start the hymn. I often was allowed to lead hymns and chants back home. It was the one thing they liked me for, although it was never enough for them to look past my other “faults.” Cabal glances over at me, startled, but then flashes a quick grin and allows me to continue. I reach the end of my song of praise and then we both settle into quiet prayer.
Afterwards, we rise together and Cabal teaches me his evening routine—showing me the dozens of candles that must be extinguished and the doors and windows that need to be closed. We wash the dishes we’ve used for the day at the backyard pump and bring in water for the washbasins and for drink. Then we go back upstairs to the library and Cabal pulls a second chair up next to his and we sit before the fire and…read. He rests a heavy book on his lap. It is the entire history of the rise and fall of an ancient galactic empire. I tell him I prefer fiction, so he pulls out a box of more recent print books that visiting pilgrims have left behind. I can’t believe my luck when I find a clean romance story about a space Billionaire and his tech-assistant. I end up reading a passage out loud. Cabal listens to me with rapt attention.
Then we go to bed, each holding a flickering candelabra.
He holds my free hand again as we walk together down the hall. When I reach my own room he steps over to the cell next to mine and starts to open the door.
“Your bedroom is next door to mine?” I squeak.
Does he look embarrassed? He nods in agreement, ducking his head. He and I both know there is literally no reason for me to be this close to him. There’s a whole other floor that is nothing but cells for visitors. And in a wing behind the kitchen are more rooms specifically for nuns. He has put me next to him so I would be close. And he did this immediately after we first met.
My heart warms.
“Okay, thank you,” I tell him, “I think I’ll sleep better knowing you’re close if I need anything.” And then I give him a genuine smile and a light wave of my hand and enter the room, closing the door behind me.
I lean back against the door, taking it all in. I hear his door open and close, and his bare feet tap on the stone floor. I miss him already. His quiet, steady presence and his luscious scent.
I take off my robe and hang it up on a peg. I’m completely naked now except for my panties and my plain bra and I can’t help but wonder for a moment how Cabal would react towards my large breasts and the pooch in my stomach? My wide hips and my thick thighs?
I open my suitcase, trying to chase away these profane thoughts and put on my shift. Then I spend time brushing my hair. I wash my hands and feet in the basin and drink some water. And then I settle in bed but have a hard time sleeping even though I’m exhausted. My time with Cabal has been like a vacation. I feel close to him already, despite the fact that we are unable to truly communicate.
I spend far too much time wondering what he’s doing next door. Does he sleep naked or in his robe? Is his bed small like mine or bigger?
Finally, I fall asleep.
