Chapter 5
five
. . .
Calla
Calla fluffed her pillow and tossed the covers off her side of the bed just as her mother walked in, towel-drying her wet hair. Calla adjusted the mosquitero, making sure it draped over the entire bed she was sharing with Amara while Zera stayed in the house.
Her hands moved on instinct, but her mind …
her mind was still caught back at the table, replaying that low, molten murmur: When find mate, we go home.
No question. No waiting. Calla would never admit it, but she found Zera’s rough accent completely arousing, and the fact that she was trying so hard to speak Florensi did soften her heart …
But then she had to say things like We fuck, bond, and fuck again and her whole mind would go back to those dreams, to those hands, those lips, and that daring tongue.
The images slid down her spine, leaving her restless and overheated.
She hated how her body responded at the mere thought of it.
She could only imagine what it would be like to be intimate with a woman like Zera.
She wrapped her curls into the silk bag her mother had sewn for her years ago. Slipping under the covers, she scooted to one side to leave space for her mother.
Amara came closer, her expression soft but tinged with concern. “Nena … ?tú estás bien?”
“Yes, mami, I’m fine.”
“You don’t seem like it.” Amara crossed her arms, hip cocked. “You think I haven’t noticed your interactions with the Vulcanian? You think that after twenty-nine years, I don’t know when something is stirring in that head of yours?”
Calla groaned. “Ay, mami, ya. Nothing is happening.”
“She is your soulmate, isn’t she?”
Calla’s gaze darted away. “Mami, por favor…”
“Yes or no?”
Her shoulders sagged. She pressed her head into the pillow and stared at the ceiling, chewing over her words. Her mother had always had that infuriating knack, the kind of sharp eye that saw right through her, no matter how much Calla tried to school her expression.
“Yes,” she said finally, her voice quiet. “She is. And … I …”
“Wow. I’ve never seen or heard of soulmates from different kingdoms … Are you scared?”
“Of course! You heard her. She wants to take me to the Vulcan Kingdom. My place is here. Besides, I don’t even know her. Half the time I barely understand what she’s saying.”
Amara chuckled. “Bendito, nena. Don’t be so hard on her. She is very good-looking, and she seems obsessed with you, which, in my opinion, are not bad qualities in either a heartmate or a soulmate.”
Calla covered her face, mortified. “I know. And she is … very … eager to create the bond.”
Amara held up a hand, eyes squeezed shut.
“Ya. Don’t give me details about that.” She opened the mosquitero, slipped inside, and settled next to Calla.
“Listen, whatever you decide to do, I will support you. You bond with Zera? Good. You reject her? Good. You bond and stay here? Good. You bond and leave for the Vulcan Kingdom? I will cry for months, but I will still support you, nena.”
The knot in Calla’s throat tightened, her eyes burning. “Thank you, mami.”
“Ay, don’t cry.” Amara laughed softly, cupping Calla’s face and peppering her with kisses on her forehead, cheek, and nose.
“Finding your soulmate, I’ve heard, is the most beautiful thing that can happen in your life.
You are lucky. I wasn’t your father’s soulmate, and yet he loved me deeply and gave me eight beautiful children.
Imagine how much love can pour from a bond as strong as a soulmates. ”
Calla nodded, but her gaze drifted to the wall that separated them from the other room. She didn’t need footsteps to know Zera was there. Although they were not bonded, she felt her.
And even here, tucked in the safest place she knew, her chest tightened with the memory of that low, deliberate voice, so close she swore she’d felt the heat of it on her skin: We fuck, bond, and fuck again. Calla groaned and pressed the meaty part of her palm to her eyes.
“You need to rest,” Amara said before kissing her one last time on her forehead, pulling the sheet to her shoulders, and turning her back to Calla. “Take her to the plantation tomorrow, put her to work, and tire her out that way she won't bother you.”
Calla laughed. What an excellent plan.
Calla stirred awake to the sharp crow of a rooster just outside her window. Another followed. Then another.
She groaned, turning toward the empty side of the bed. Not surprised that her mother was already up. The faint clink of dishes echoed from the kitchen, and the air smelled like freshly brewed coffee.
With a sigh, Calla sat up, tugging the silk bag off her head and shaking out her curls. A quick pat-down and twist, and she had her hair secured into an efficient bun. She padded out barefoot, the floor cool against her soles, and headed for the kitchen.
Zera was already there.
Dressed in Rhea linen pants and a short-sleeved top that clung to her biceps in ways Calla did not need this early in the morning, the Vulcanian sat at the table with an expression of deep suspicion. In her hand was a steaming mug of coffee, and Amara was just then handing her a spoon.
“Now wait a couple seconds,” Amara coached. “The coffee will melt the cheese and then, ay bendito, delicious.”
Zera gave the spoon a long look, then the cup, then Amara, as if she were trying to calculate whether this was a trap.
Calla leaned against the doorway, hands on her waist, and amusement softening her voice. “Buenos días.”
Amara beamed. “?Buenos días, mi nina preciosa!”
Zera glanced up just as she lifted the spoon from her mug, a square of cheddar now melted and dripping. She stuck it in her mouth and chewed once. Her eyes went wide.
Calla chuckled. “Good?”
Zera nodded quickly, then sipped the coffee, visibly pleased now. Her expression softened into something content, still a little confused, but … content.
It was oddly comforting to see her like this. In their home. Eating their food. Wearing their clothes.
Maybe, Calla thought, that if she let herself stop fearing everything, Zera could belong and fit in.
“Sit and eat,” Amara said, placing two plates on the table, one in front of Calla and the other in front of Zera. “Eggs from our own chickens. And pan sobao.”
“Wouldn’t it be nice to stay and eat this every single day?” Amara asked, so casually it wasn’t casual at all.
Calla rubbed her face. “Mami…”
“I mean, I’m not lying,” Amara said with a shrug, like she hadn’t just dropped a life-altering comment between sips of coffee.
“Good food,” Zera said, completely unfazed, folding her eggs into a slice of pan sobao like a sandwich and taking a massive bite.
Amara leaned toward Calla, eyes widening with a mischievous glint. “Calla... we need plátanos for the mofongo,” she said, drawing out the sentence with unnecessary drama. Then, as if Calla might not get the message, she nodded hard in Zera’s direction and pursed her lips.
Calla rolled her eyes but couldn’t help the small smile tugging at her lips. Right. Their “last night feast” plan. Mofongo was non-negotiable.
She glanced over at Zera, who was already halfway through her plate like a woman on a mission.
“Help me with the plátanos?” Calla asked, one brow arched.
Zera perked up instantly. “Yes. I help my mate.”
That earned a delighted cackle from Amara. “Tan bella, ella.”
Calla groaned softly and shot her mother a look that said it all. But when she turned back to Zera, she found herself smiling. “Hurry up, then,” she said, forking a mouthful of eggs. “Let’s go.”
She took another bite, not rushing, but already imagining the heat of the sun, the smell of the damp earth in the fields, and …
Zera.
Sweaty. Shirt clinging. Arms flexing while she lifted a stalk of plantains like it was nothing. Calla blinked and shoved more food into her mouth.
Maybe this was just work.
But for once, she was actually looking forward to it.