17. Chapter 17
seventeen
Hue
I’m not sure how long or short a while passes when I’m urged awake, feeling more rested than I’ve felt in solars.
My body is languid and soft from the water as they help me from the pool, petals sticking to my warmed skin.
They don’t knock them free, nor do they dry me as the sheer, shimmering dress that looks like starfall is lifted over my head.
My long red hair is dripping down my back, splattering onto the floor at my bare heels.
The only noise in the otherwise silent room, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap.
When a veil, the same starry sheer material that wards away the chill from the room, is settled over my head, I fully come awake.
“Go with balance, human Hue,” they whisper before I’m suddenly urged out a set of doors, my eyes blowing wide.
The females around me all scramble to take their places in the vast rows of—
Oh, holy shit...
The chamber is filled with Xyreliths, all towering over me where they stand like morbidly beautiful sentinels.
Each holding a single glowing flower in their hands, casting the otherwise dark room in an eerie bioluminescent twinkle.
Movement from in front of me grabs my attention before every inch of my body lights aflame.
A deep, pulsing need starts at my core, flooding my lower belly as Sor’en stares back at me from behind his own veil.
His garment, a structured sheer male counterpart, shimmers in the same starfall pattern as mine.
His cutting off at his shins while mine billows behind me, catching the breeze with every shift before and gathering at my feet.
“Go to him, star child,” a male voice finds me, only for the elderly male to appear beside my mate.
Eliciting a soft growl from Sor’en that has the room all repeating the same gesture above their heads.
Save for the elderly male who looks more than a little pleased with himself, as if to rub in that we let this go far too long.
My hands tremble as I gather my dress, hiking it up high so that I can walk. It's only after I’ve done that, that I catch a glimpse of myself in the utterly still reflection pools that line the walkways halting my steps again.
I am… I look… otherworldly.
Ethereal.
Nothing like Human 74-B.
I look like the mate to a death omen.
To a god among males.
A botanist.
Who grew the flowers his people are throwing at my feet as I shake myself free from my own reflection and finally walk to him.
The room is cool, but I am nearing a fever-pitch watching with each languid step as Sor’en’s chest heaves in tune with mine, each step altering, changing, igniting a need, a solitary desire for something of my own. Something dangerous and intoxicating.
Warmth whispers around me, shifting my veil as Melion materializes at my side, his shadows leaving ticklish wisps along my flesh. I get the feeling it’s a blessing, a request even of his own, although I’m not sure for what.
He dissipates before reforming beside Sor’en as I join him, my breath airy whispers within the veil that brushes the ground by my feet on either side.
I’m grateful in this moment that my face is hidden, if nothing else, to mask the sudden onslaught of tears rolling down my cheeks and the horrifying slickness of my center.
“Your arms,” the elderly male orders softly, his voice carrying throughout the room on a burst of warmth I can’t place. Like the palace itself wishes him to be heard.
I don’t hesitate when I offer mine, and neither does Sor’en.
My skin is a live wire as both of our arms are taken in his hold and joined.
My hand grasps Sor’en’s toned wrist as he grasps mine.
A shudder breaks out over my spine as Sor’en’s palm suddenly grows slick with oil.
But where it was a gentle, warm tingle before, this is liquid fire.
Tantalizing and razing. My teeth sore my inner cheek to halt the moan from leaving my lips.
My free hand twitches with the desire to spread it all over my skin, between my legs, and over that place where he licked me.
The vibrating is back, now knowing where it originates, what it means…
my breath comes out a little quicker than before.
The prayers filter in from every angle, more flowers falling at our feet as the male binds our arms with a thick band of that same starry silken material.
Each moment filling me with something new, something warm and inviting.
It has nothing to do with the inferno oil coating my arm.
Not even as it drips onto our bare feet, making me choke back another moan.
Hating the idea of even a droplet being lost as much as I love the way it’s oozing from him, uncontrolled and sopping.
Under the pools of my dress, I lift one sole above the top of my other foot, desperate to spread it around.
“Anoint your mate under our goddesses. May you lead into life as you flow into death. May your balance be true and your death unseen. May your souls rest within one another until both of you shall impart to the dirt.”
The pretty words only make more emotion threaten to clog my throat.
The substantial weight of the vow is not lost on me, knowing undeniably in this moment, something has changed, that the words mean something I lack the full capacity to appreciate, and they’ll play through my mind for the rest of my life.
My lips part as Sor’en offers me his free palm as if to show me what he's doing.
I watch in wonder as oil buds to life on his thumb-tip before he shifts his hand under my veil, keeping my face hidden from the spectating eyes and himself.
When he brushes his thumb across my forehead, my eyelids flutter, making me sag into him, my legs suddenly unwilling to hold my weight as my body thrums. He steadies me the best he can with our arms tied.
It takes a few domtics too long for me to notice the expectant hum in the chamber.
My brow furrows despite my bliss as it occurs to me, I'm supposed to do the same. That nobody is quite sure how to proceed or what it means that I can’t.
No small amount of jealousy and sadness mingles with the fire building in my chest.
I don’t have oil.
I don’t have anything to offer him.
I look up as if to apologize, the words hot and heavy on my tongue.
It feels more like admitting defeat than it should, admitting that the females of his kind could please and honor him better than I, and that makes me mad.
I shift my own veil, keeping myself hidden before licking the tip of my finger, and showing him in the same offering.
I can feel his approval more than I can see it, but that doesn’t make it any less moving.
Sor’en leans down, offering me his forehead underneath his veil as I repeat the gesture. His groan is muffled and soft, vibrating across my palm as it lingers on the hard planes of his hidden face.
We’re lost in that moment together, both of us barely sentient beings, as the elderly male offers us a parting prayer I barely hear.
No sooner than he finishes, I’m swooped into my mate's arms as the people around us head for the door. Their movements are quick, all blipping in and out of the room in an instant. My body is trembling as I’m held in Sor’en’s arms as he walks into the unending night.
Stunning hues dance across the sky like acrobats.
Twisting and pulling, ebbing and flowing all at once.
It takes me a long time to pull my eyes from it, but when I do, my heart flutters in my chest. Xyreliths line our path, winding through the city center and beyond.
Shoulder to shoulder and reverent as they offer more flowers, more parting blessings of balance in their language and mine.
I glance over Sor’en’s shoulder to find Melion trailing behind us, his form far larger and more intimidating than the one I'm used to.
I wonder which one is truly his.
I’m nearly certain this is him… that perhaps he lessens himself to make me feel safer. It’s achingly kind, like the people placing flowers into my waiting arms, each equally as happy, as proud to have me. Not a single glare or sneer.
So unlike the boogeymen from our bedtime stories. I rest my head on my mate’s chest, not missing the shudder that leaves him. I’m not looking for a way out for now. Just for a moment, I’ll forget the tooth on my neck. For a moment, this can be where I’ll stay.