33. Chapter 33
thirty-three
Hue
My sobs echo off the walls of the temple as I’m pulled back inside, Melion torn between Sor’en and me.
When he breaks toward me, rippling mournfully away from his companion’s crumpled body, I hurl myself from Me’alma’s arms, my hair flying wildly in my face as I point to the male lying behind him down the tunnel.
“Go to him! Melion, go to Sor’en, get him! ”
He doesn’t move, and my choked screams vibrate in the tunnel. “Get him now and run!”
Melion wavers, making my heart ache.
I sob, falling to my knees to beg. “Melion, it's okay. It's okay, please. Please help him.”
He appears at my side instead, making the women flee and gasp as he takes me into him.
We cry together.
A day later, a Kalzait imperial ship lands outside the dome. I am not there to watch them drag my mate on board to his death. To watch his people turn their backs on him with such ease, a sick feeling building in my gut.
I don’t bother looking at the Balla’mar as I address him. He has been uneasy, checking on me often despite my obvious show of hatred for the male. “I wish to go outside.”
“Human Hue, I am unsure—"
“I do not give a fuck if you are unsure. You cannot keep me prisoner in this godforsaken temple,” I state numbly.
Melion flares beside me as I’m turned down again. His anger and sorrow making him warble intensely. Melion has not left my side since, a painful fire for Vena’lel as they draw their energy, their life-force from the souls beneath the fields.
I take a deep breath as Lyr’ael swirls her hand above my head. Something she has taken to doing constantly despite my shoving her away. “My Vena’lel needs to go to the fields.”
“I cannot stop him—"
“He will not go without me.”
The Balla’mar leaves with a simple apology and a blessing of balance. My body and mind are numb, my throat raw from the hours of sobbing and screaming as I collapse down on the bed.
“Your spirit is so low, something feels wrong, human Hue. We must bring you into balance for the baby.”
I glare up at Lyr’ael from my bed. “I will not be balanced until I am with my mate.” She shifts, casting a panicked glance at Me’alma.
I refuse to look at the other woman, at the tiny bundle cradled at her breast. “Y-you have been refusing food, Hue.” My eyes widen slightly as she drops the formality. “Please, the child needs—"
“None of you were concerned with what my child needed when you traded off one of your own like he were nothing to you. Nobody stood for Sor’en, so do not bother standing for his child now.
” The words are harsh, I know that, but I’m there now…
in that old anger. The old injustices and unfairness slithering back like they never left.
My eyes track the door, locked as it was hours before that when I tried to leave. And hours and hours before that too.
She huffs in frustration before clearing her own imbalance, although it doesn’t seem to calm her at all. “Your mate killed a child. He lied to us all, snuck off to murder for the very system that kept us in danger. We had to save ourselves, save you.”
I take a line straight from the Jin booklet.
“You insult my intelligence and your own if you truly think any of it would be that simple. Have you even stopped to consider why he fought so hard, why he did all those terrible things? Maybe it was for you. He was the first to defend this dome when the attacks came, the last to leave when it was time to clean up the corpses that rotted in the fields. And you all didn’t bat a fucking eye when he offered the Kalzaits his head?
What if what happened with that child wasn’t so simple? Have you even considered it?”
She hesitates, shifting on her feet, before another voice pops up from across the room.
“I have.”
Both of our heads snap toward the new mother. Bouncing her fussy baby in her arms. “Botanist Sor’en has always taken care of everyone. Even when it was unnecessary. He was… a good male. Perhaps—"
Lyr’ael scolds her friend. “Me’alma, go with bal—"
“Oh, fuck off with the balance shit,” I interrupt, fully sitting up in bed.
“He deserves to have a chance at both sides of the story, right? You think the Kalzaits are going to give him that? The Alliance, on the off chance they hand him over alive? There’s got to be more to this.
Nobody knows my mate as I do, and Sor’en is not a monster. He isn’t.”
The females glance at each other, but I don’t stop. “If I could just get to the field before our home, I could—"
“Absolutely not. You are pregnant, the stress and your… your fucking unbalanced attitude is horrible for the baby and my sanity!” Lyr’ael snaps before slamming her hands over her mouth.
Me’alma bursts out in a sudden laugh before doing the same to herself.
I almost crack a smile. Almost. “I’m not asking you guys to do anything except turn around. And perhaps trust me, just a little.”
My heart lurches as they glance at each other, both taking a deep breath before they turn. Clearing the balance above their heads before Lyr’ael busies herself with cooing at her friend's baby.
I snap my head to Melion, reaching for him with a weak smile. “I’m ready now, sorry it took so long.”
I’m gone in the next moment, swept upward toward the skylight.
When the world opens to me again, it’s a field, and Melion knows just where to go.
He sits me down gently among the flowers by Jin’rayal’s grave, their black buds small but there.
My hands are shaking, my palms so slick I wipe them on my skirt.
When bonding with a Vena’lel, your choice of flowers is important.
They have meaning like everything else here.
I don’t hesitate as I pluck a yellow petal from a flower blowing in the twilight breeze. “We’re going to save him. Right?”
Melion swats me, eager to get started.
“I have no idea how much to take.”
He urges a tendril forward, soothing my chilled skin.
The domes of Silloria remain temperate and warm year-round, but there is a chill in the air here I can’t shake, one that blows up from beneath the dirt.
My heart pounds as something catches my eye through Melion’s swirls, a sob arching up my throat as a thin, shimmering wisp forms just beside us, a worn, leathery hand reaching into the swirl to rip the petal in two.
I sob as Jin’rayal settles in the flowers beside us.
His form blurry and uncertain, but I would know him anywhere.
“I’m scared.” My hands come up to rest on my swollen, aching belly.
I haven’t missed a dose of oil or flowers, not once, even in the chaos, but it's getting worse now.
I think… I think I might have my baby soon.
Jin’rayal says nothing, but through the swirls and warmth from Melion, he gestures to my side. I don’t look as a soft, warm tail sneaks through the darkness, drifting gently over my exposed belly. “Mom…” I whimper, trying to settle my sobs.
When I finally gather the courage to look at her, it's everything I have not to fling myself out of Melion and into her soft, wispy arms. She doesn’t say anything, only offering her toothy smile as she adoringly traces my belly with her tail.
I clear my throat to keep my voice sure and strong. “Melion, I offer myself to you. To be my guide through the veil, my companion and solace in all things until you impart my soul.”
He warbles with pride.
The petal tastes sweeter on my tongue than it ever has before.
I never would have dared such a large dose, but I feel nothing but warmth as its effects seep into my bones.
Melion lays me back into the flowers as the world around me grows hazy and unfocused.
I see it in Melion’s eyes the moment Sor’en wakes up, the moment he’s looking at me through our Vena’lel.
The relief that bursts through my chest is shattering.
“I love you,” I whisper as the look fades, getting the impression Melion shut him out.
That even under the worst of circumstances, this is just for us.
It is odd, the way the world moves when you are dying.
The way the flowers tickle my face, the way fur feels on my skin, or a leathery hand feels as it brushes the hair from my face.
Suddenly, shimmering curtains drop over my eyes, and my arms are weak as I try to bat them away.
It doesn’t work because I am seeing… not curtains but something else.
A version of the world that is beautifully dark.
The veil.
And Melion is there.
I gasp at the young male who stands before me, his towering Xyrelith form so different from his shadow. But the eyes are the same. The glowing orbs of mischief familiar and lovely. “Melion… this was you?
He smiles, nodding as he offers me his hand.
I lift my arm to take it before something catches my eye.
It's… me. Us… lying in the flowers. My body is limp, sweat beading my face as I pant wildly in my sleep.
Melion, well, the other version of him, the one I know, is there too, lying over me as tendrils of his swirling shadows dance over my flesh, dipping in and out of my being with ease.
A brush of warmth hits me, making me sigh.
It makes sense now where it comes from; the warmth is the veil.
It’s death and passing, it’s… peace and a calm so resolute you can rest within its grasp.
I’ve been so terrified this whole time of something that never left my side.
That comforted me in those moments of fear and uncertainty.
My hand drops away from child Melion as my eyes widen on the souls around us.
Where I expect fear, I feel nothing but the acceptance and love of a warm embrace.
I step toward them, the kind, wispy, warm souls, before child Melion appears in front of me, shaking his head gravely as if to warn me away from them.
For a moment, I can’t recall why I shouldn’t stay.
The flowers glow brighter, the air is warmer, and I can’t think of a single thing to worry about.
It is lovely. I take another step away from Melion, barely noticing the panic in his eyes until a kick from deep inside my belly halts me.
I gasp, my hands drifting up as my baby kicks again.
Melion offers me his hand.
I give the veil another glance.
It's nice here.
Not scary at all.
It’s a good place to wait for everyone you love.
But I have people I love waiting for me out there, so everyone will just have to be patient.