Far Horizons: Tales of Sci-Fi, Fantasy and Horror. Issue #15 June 2015 | Page 13

about his strong face and manly chin. He was clad in
worn trousers and a vest over a simple white shirt.
Even in the limited light he glowed with power and
life.

couldn’t live without them; she would be with them
forever. How could she choose?
Choose, why did she need to choose? More memories—they had become tired of sharing and not taking. They had threatened to fight; they demanded she
choose which one of them claimed her and which
would leave. She had to pick one, tonight, she was
to pick one tonight. But how could she pick one and
deny the other.

By the main door stood a taller, slimmer figure,
dressed in a fine suit, ruffled white shirt open to show
the top of his pale hairless chest, tall riding boots
of fine brown leather covering him to his knees. He
looked older, perhaps in his thirties, his face narrow,
cheek bones like blades below dark, exotic eyes.
Sally Anne paused as her breath caught in her throat at
the sight of the two men.
“Simon.” The man by the door stepped closer.
“David.” The man standing at the back of the barn
nodded and took a single step closer.
As the two men stepped into the moonlight her heart
began to beat faster, she found it hard to think, hard to
concentrate. Simply having them close to her filled her
thoughts with love for them, everything else vanished,
only they mattered. Her perfect lovers to be.
“Have you chosen?” David spoke, his voice almost a
growl.
Chosen, chosen what? What was she choosing? Why
did she have to choose? Then she remembered, memories forcing their way to the surface through the
cloud of desire that filled her mind. She had met one
of them days ago, weeks ago, months ago, it was hard
to remember, but it didn’t matter. Had it been David
she met first, or Simon. Never mind.
She had met one and then the other had arrived to
claim her love. They had argued, perhaps even come
to blows. Then they had called a truce, to share her between them but under the condition that neither could
take her.
So one night or part of the night she would be within
the strong arms of David, and another time her lips
would be pressed against the cool skin of Simon. They
were so different and yet she loved them both. She

David, the man of nature and the wild, so strong and
powerful. When he held her his arms and chest were
so warm against her body that she felt it was like a
summer’s day. David’s strong, manly smell, somehow reminding her of their family dogs, he had only
to come close, and she could smell him, desire him.
He was down to earth, a simple gentleman in clothing
much like her own in quality, his arms covered in soft
hairs, his beard thick but not rough like her fathers, a
kiss with David promised such passion and warmth.
How could she not pick him?
But Simon, tall, lordly Simon. A prince among his
people. Cool, controlled, his passion veiled behind an
arrogance that only the powerful truly have. He was
pale; his skin almost glowing from within. When he
held her, she could feel his strength though he was
thin, so different to the well muscled David. His touch,
his hands, so cool. When he held her close and kissed
her neck she could feel the warmth of her body filling
his arms and chest, giving him life and strength.
David would be a passionate lover, a mate, Simon
would be her lord, to rule her and command her. David
offered fire and life, Simon offered the mystery of the
night, David desired her openly, Simon claimed her
but showed her no love.
“Have you chosen?” This time it was Simon who
spoke and he stepped closer, an action matched by
David. Both men looked at each other and bared their
teeth in a growl. Gleaming white teeth, canines lengthening in both mouths. The men were now only a few
steps apart and both prepared to fight, David hunching
himself, balanced on the balls of his feet ready to leap,
Simon with arms outstretched, as if his fingers were

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