"Sometimes I wonder why I bother doing this." I sigh discontentedly while rolling off Jackson's hard, well sculpted body. My naked back lands on to the bed, the sweat staining the sheets. 

"Nomi?" Jackson asks, his wolf ears twitching in apprehension. That coward probably thinks I am going to hit him with the riding crop again. I paid him well, so by all rights a man whore like him should shut the fuck up. If Jackson has any hangups about my fetishes, then he shouldn't have taken my money. I feel like setting him straight, but that sense of apathy overwhelms me again. Jackson senses my unhappiness and begins covering my whole body with kisses, knowing that's what I usually like. 

But not tonight. Or is it tomorrow already? 

"I mean, I like sex, right?" I muse as I stroke Jackson's luxuriant mane of hair, "I wouldn't be going to Loveless if I didn't."

"I love you, Nomi." Jackson murmurs as his lips begin heading south, tracing the contours of my body. 

"Its just that," I keep talking, barely registering what Jackson says, "I want to do it. I want to fuck. But halfway through, I just don't feel like doing it anymore. Like the whole thing is pointless."

Jackson lifts his head up and looks at me straight in the eye, confusion all over his face. He stays silent though, waiting for me to continue. 

"Which has the louder voice, Jackson?" I ask, "Your brain or your crotch?"

Jackson's face takes on a serious expression as he responds, "The crotch?"

In that moment he looks like a scholar ruminating over one of the mysteries of the universe. That sight is so ridiculous it causes me to burst out laughing despite myself. 

"The crotch?" I giggle, "That's your answer? I thought as much." Jackson merely nods and goes back to servicing me in silence. 

"The thing is," I continue, "my crotch is telling me one thing, but then my brain just shouts over it and I can't make sense out of the commotion. Its so ... dissatisfying."

"Who is Hiro?" Jackson murmurs as his lips play over my skin. 

"A comrade. A friend." I grunt as I idly trace the lines of Jackson's muscles with a finger, "Where did you hear that name?"

The only thing I hear from Jackson is a slurping noise as his service continues. A knot of irritation begins to form in my heart. Jackson heard me just fine. He just doesn't want to answer the question. I roughly grab Jackson by the hair and pull his face up, glaring it at him. 

"Answer me." I growl, "Or do you want another round with the riding crop?"

Jackson whimpers, an almost doglike, high pitched whine, "Heard Nomi say the name ... during service."

The knot irritation explodes into a tidal wave of anger, causing me to throw Jackson off the bed. He lands on the ground right on the butt as I reach for the riding crop. Jackson's a liar. A filthy liar. And filthy liars need their punishment. I begin flogging Jackson with the riding crop. Its not as if I want to do this. As a beast person, Jackson is simply not as civilized as a human. He falls into all kinds of bad habits too easily.

I feel bad about this. I really do. Its just that Jackson needs to learn his lesson. He has to learn that lying is wrong. 

Liar. 

Liar. 

.......

It takes until daybreak before I am satisfied that Jackson has been adequately disciplined. The wolf man whore cowers in a corner of the hotel room, his body covered in angry welts. I shake my head at the sight and continue getting dressed. A quick check of my watch causes me to click my tongue in annoyance. Need to leave soon. I pack the riding crop into an attache case and toss Jackson the keys to the room. 

"Check out by yourself later." I say. Jackson just nods mutely, his eyes turned downwards. The keys hit him squarely in the head but there is no response. What a useless man. Without wasting any more time on Jackson, I exit the room and hustle out of the hotel. I quickly flag down a passing cab the moment I hit the streets. 

"Cathedral of the Divines." I tell the driver and settle back to enjoy the ride. 

Ordinarily I wouldn't bother rushing to attend chapel. In fact, I would have probably given it a miss the same way I usually do. But today's special. A member of the chorus is leading the congregation, and almost every Valkyrie in the Citadel would be attending, including my unit. Command told me that my attendance was expected. I could have easily ignored that order, but there was something else. 

My family told me that my attendance was mandatory. Now that was something I could not ignore. 

The cab stops in front of the multistory titan that is the Cathedral and I hurriedly disembark. Looking more like an office building than a religious gathering spot, the Cathedral resembles a tower whose roof narrows into a sharp spire. Instead of tiles or brick, the Cathedral is covered almost entirely in specially treated glass that causes the sunlight to refract and break apart. One of the priestesses had told me this feat was an optical illusion caused by the odd sharp angles that were built into the height of the building. It gives the impression that the Cathedral is standing in the middle of a rainbow. 

The rainbow, of course, being the universally accepted symbol of the Orthodox Divines. Seven goddesses watching over the world. Separate yet united. 

I chuckle ruefully at a childhood memory of the chorus. It was the first time I had met them after a religious service and they were wearing their official uniform, a plain white robe that covered the entirety of their bodies, leaving no identifying features. When I asked my sister how I would recognize each chorister, she told me that when a chorister appeared by herself, she would be wearing a colored robe that indicated which of the divines she represented. 

The thought that the holiest women in the Citadel could be identified through a color code caused me to double over in laughter, until my sister cuffed me in the head. 

I hear the muffled sound of a hymn being sung somewhere in the building. That means I'm already late. Picking up the pace, I head for the elevator. If I remember correctly, my unit were given front row seats in recognition of our recent victory over the Fallen. Punching in the appropriate number, I wait impatiently as the lift whooshes upwards before depositing me right at the doors of the ceremonial hall. Making my way inside, I begin walking past the assembled ranks of Valkyries in the middle of singing the hymn. The noise is tremendous, as the hall is divided into several floors, each simply packed to capacity with people. 

My eyes drift to the stage, a plain affair if not for the seven enormous paintings that serve as a backdrop, each representing one of the goddesses. At the feet the paintings and lined up in a row are the priestesses of the Cathedral, dressed in white robes without the hoods associated with the choristers. A rainbow sash tied across their waists provides the priestesses with a splash of color. But the star of the show is a woman that leads the congregation from a wooden lectern, dressed in robes and full face hood of plain blue. 

Blue. That means she is the chorister of Regina, the divine of beauty and victory. No wonder I was ordered to attend. 

Regina is the go to goddess of almost every Valkyrie. Depicted in the back drop painting as a woman with black hair and eyes and equipped with a bulwark that struggles to hold in her generous bosom, Regina is represented as the epitome of a cool beauty. The divine stands with her feet together and hands clasped behind her back, showing off a slender figure while her face looks towards the distance with a triumphant expression. A woman and man kneel at the goddesses's feet, the woman with both hands offering Regina a sword with her face upturned, alight in rapture. The man however, has his head lowered submissively, proffering a tray of meat and fruit to the divine. 

Women fight. Men serve. So it has been decreed. So it shall be. 

I squeeze past the Valkyries of my unit, looking for a free spot where I can get comfortable. I elbow aside a girl, forcing her to free up some space for me. The girl gives me an ugly look but I ignore her and begin making myself at home. 

"Didn't think you would come." Hiro whispers from beside me. 

"Wouldn't dream of missing this." I murmur back and begin singing along with everyone else. The music carries me away and soon, the unpleasantness of last night is forgotten. 

The Orthodox Divines rule from their heaven while woman and man stand side by side. 

All is right in the world.