27. Chapter 27
twenty-seven
Hue
I scratch at the reddened skin of my stomach in the mirror, all the oversized portions of yummy food Sor’en prepared for me keeping me looking fuller in places I never have before.
When I look at the bit of a gut I’m developing, a passing thought, a dangerous one, crosses my mind.
I palm the itchy offender, trying to give it a little jiggle.
It has none.
It's not huge by any means, nothing like Me’alma.
Just a little pooch. Thank the fucking stars their clothes meld to you and not the other way around.
My fingernails work the skin leading down to my inner thighs before I tug up the bodice of the top I’m wearing today.
It’s black, like everything else here. The chest is sheer in a deep V, while the rest is the normal structured fabric.
The long, billowing skirt comes next, and I look pretty, but tired.
Like super tired.
It had been late when Sor’en appeared in the field to collect Melion and me.
He helped me find what was left, and we stayed up late into the night preparing the blessing.
Which is pretty much just wiping around oil already supplied by her mate, which I was heavily gloved for, and a lot of prayer.
It was easy enough. The petals took the longest, and there was no way in hell I could’ve done it without him.
It’s such a cool concept, though, that I was fully invested very early on, a little story told within a bundle of flowers.
It definitely did not make me tear up at all, but by the time we were done, I was falling asleep at the counter.
Today I get to do it all again, well, mostly.
I get to pick the correct flowers for Sor’en’s goddess blessing with my handy-dandy list.
I breeze out the door of the bedroom, ready to make a quick escape before my mate appears out of nowhere, hiking me into his arms and depositing me on his lap for breakfast. The only meal Xyreliths bother eating.
I glance down at my stomach, ignoring the itch as it's started to worry the male behind me. Maybe worry is a bit of an understatement. He’s been stoically, mostly stoically, freaking the fuck out about whatever weird reaction I’m having to something here.
He stopped making me my favorite flamet for a few days so he could monitor the itchiness.
I’ve just started hiding it; Sor’en has enough going on.
His datapad blares to life just as I’m released from the meal and heading for the flower basket by the door. I linger, pretending to be fixing something on my skirt.
Sor’en gets a lot of calls.
He ignores them.
But this one, he answers.
My pulse spikes for a moment before he finally speaks to the hastened voice on the other end. “Yes, I’ll bring her now.”
I turn, already sighing as I set the basket back down. “It’s time?”
He nods, in front of me in less time than it takes for me to blink, offering me kisses that make my thoughts go wonky as he smears a slick of oil down my neck from his large palm. “Are you ready?”
I shrug, my anxiety increasing as he forgoes a craft, blurring us straight to the temple.
After that, twin goddesses and their arched wings greet me quickly.
My head spins as he sets me on my feet, not taking his hands off until I’m steady.
His lips find mine again before I’m fully caught up; her veil and bouquet are passed into my hands.
“I am not needed past this point,” he murmurs, casting an odd look at the goddess arch. “I will be close.”
When I open my mouth to protest, to demand he not make me do it alone, his lips take the words from me again. “You are a botanist's mate. Moreover, you are the only one here who doubts you.”
I nod, and before I can even say goodbye, Lyr’ael is there, taking my hand quickly in hers. “Come, human Hue, quickly.”
I’m pulled inside after that, glancing over my shoulder just before we turn into the maze of halls that make up the temple.
Each section dedicated to a twin goddess, while the center remains something of neutral ground.
It’s the look in Sor’en’s eyes… the unabashed pride there that rocks me to my core, inflating my chest.
Everything happens for a reason, right?
“I’m meant to be here,” I mumble to myself in a reassuring tone.
Lyr’ael glances behind her as she tugs me through the halls. “Of course, where else would you be?”
The press of the teeth between my breasts digs deep into my chest.
Where else indeed?
Lyr’ael rapidly slows our pace, swirling her hand around her head to calm herself before we walk slower than the situation warrants into the next room we come across. “Did the alchemist come?”
“No.” Me’alma gasps before another female hushes her softly.
From then on out, my mind is a blank blur of activity.
Me’alma is sitting in a deep squat within a pool of water.
Her pale, long hair artfully braided down her nude back.
I barely find time to think as I’m rushed to the pool, the females guiding me as I place a starfall veil over her head.
I clear my throat to clear a lump as it falls over her pretty features.
Me’alma’s face will stay hidden from now until her baby is born to protect her dignity and balance.
Where Xyreliths typically speak with the tops of each other’s heads, everyone avoids hers, and while I can’t see what they see, I do it too.
A small whimper escapes the mother's throat, and everyone reacts immediately, telling me she needs the flowers. My hand shakes as I try to remember the order, my mind pulling a total bucket of fucking nothing. It's only when an obsidian-colored hand reaches out, gently gripping my wrist, that I come back to the moment. Me’alma pants behind her veil as she soothes me. “Go with balance, human. You are his Draya’la, the veil works through you, you do not work through the veil.”
I swallow hard, not really sure what that means, but taking a calming breath anyway. I ignore Lyr’ael as she swirls her hands above my head in the closest thing I’ve seen a Xyrelith display to panic save for my notoriously unbalanced mate.
“You are a botanist's mate. You are the only one here who doubts you.”
I gather myself, offering her a blue Lyr’lumara, repeating my intended blessing.
The rest comes with ease, my body recalling the motions and words like nothing at all.
But it's everything, and I watch as the alien poppies calm and soothe the woman. By the time the head of the youngling is cresting between her legs, she’s relaxed back against the edge of the pool.
I can’t see her smile or her tears so much as I can feel the weight of them.
My own eyes burst with tears as a sense of longing so strong slams me hard enough to spoil the food in my gut.
I’m standing with my nearly empty bouquet, watching them intently, when Lyr’ael smiles softly at me.
“We must leave now, human Hue. She can take it from here.”
I’m half ready to argue the merit of leaving a new mother to endure the last leg of the birth alone, but when I look back at her in the pool, there is no panic in the woman as she arches into another silent push.
Lyr’ael shows me the way out of the temple quickly after that, thanking me and playfully probing about my own state of maternity.
Apparently, Lyr’ael loathes the idea of having a child but loves the concept of birth.
I laugh. “I think now would be a horrible time for something like that,” I offer as I scratch my belly, just as the soft daylight reaches us.
God, I hadn’t realized it’d been that long.
“Then you’d best prepare, the goddesses bless us when we think we need it the least. Go with balance, human Hue.”
“Go with balance,” I repeat as she heads back onto the temple, her waist-length hair swishing with her skirt.
When I turn around, I don’t readily see Sor’en, but what I do see is the flower field just behind the temple.
Quickly snagging my list from an inner pocket of my skirt, I dash into it.
I’m only there for a moment before I realize I don’t need the list at all.
I’m lost to my task, so much so that I don’t notice how deep I got until I glance up, and there’s no temple in sight.
Nor do I have any clue when Melion joined me.
“Hello, you,” I offer my shadowy friend.
He offers me a tendril.
A moment passes between us as his warm air dances with the ends of my skirt, where my heart thuds just a little slower. When I almost take the tendril.
I clear my throat, refusing to look at his disappointment. “Where is—"
“You have wandered, my little mate.”
I gasp, slamming my flowers behind my back, hoping I don’t crush the stems as I pass them all into the same hand. Using my other hand to lift in front of me in the universal stop signal.
He pauses, his brow line quirking just as a smirk fills his handsome, odd face. The smirk that tells me he's about to do something absolutely unhinged.
He takes a step forward, and I’m about to cry out, to beg him to stay back so he doesn’t ruin his own surprise, but Melion surges between us, warding him away.
I can't even see my mate beyond the crackling shadow wall. So, I shout a bit louder than I should to make sure he hears me. “I’ve got something important to do. I’ll meet you back home. ”
I can feel his hesitation. His desire to linger and watch me has been his favorite pastime since he found the escape bag after the attack.
Sor’en didn’t say anything, he simply walked inside with it the next morning and sat it on my lap, then wrapped his hand around my throat with a gentle squeeze.
I got a little sleepy after that, but not enough to actually pass out.
His warning was clear.
“Hue…” he growls in his normal tone.
I cringe, realizing I hadn’t needed to yell at all. “I’m just going to see Jin. Please, this is important to me.”
There’s a silence so profound I hold my breath as I press closer to Melion, trying to see Sor’en through him when his voice finally comes through. “Fine, but Melion—"
“No, Melion goes too! That’s cheating!”
Melion shrinks at that, turning on me as if to say, the fuck.
I nod at them both. “I’ll come home.”
They take an equally long pause.
I scratch my stomach, debating the merit of sneaking out tonight if he says no.
“If you are not back before nightfall, I will burn this city to the ground, Hue,” Sor’en warns, his sidekick warbling in agreement.
My cheeks heat as I nod; they’re gone in the next instant. My hands tremble with excitement as I pull the flowers from behind my back, ensuring they aren’t crumpled, and finally head for the city center.