Chapter 32 Mates—Not Just an Australian Thing
thirty-two
Mates—Not Just an Australian Thing
Ilook up at him with orgasm-addled confusion. “I’m what?”
“My maker designed each of us with jagged edges that would fit only one perfect puzzle piece. A human who would allow us to experience the deepest, most maddening kind of love. Unstoppable and consuming. They called that person our mate.”
“Like soulmate?” I ask.
He hums and nods, his eyes closed in peace.
“Why?”
He looks down at me with concern and I quickly go on.
“Not that I’m mad about being your mate,” I say, then kiss his burning chest. “I’m just curious.”
He smiles. “I think they wanted to see what love looks like from different perspectives.”
“What’s Apollo’s perspective?”
Rhazan’s cheeks glow brighter and he smirks. “He survives on other people’s pleasure.”
I chuff. “No wonder Sylvia looks so happy.”
A laugh rolls up his throat like distant thunder. “Yes. And he looks happy, too. Last I saw him was centuries ago, and he was struggling for purpose.”
“So, you’re all ancient?” I ask, tracing one of his searing scars.
“Ancient,” he grunts with displeasure. “Apollo and I are among the youngest of our creator’s children—in terms of how long we’ve been away from them.”
“Why did you stay longer?”
He pauses, considering it. “I’m not sure. They asked us not to go yet. Apollo and I both struggled to fuel ourselves with our siblings. He especially struggled.
“The creator kept us alive with their energy, but encouraged us to explore our own ways of sustaining our magic with each other before sending us to the world.”
The image of Apollo and Rhazan together in that way flashes through my mind. It’s not entirely unpleasant until I remember they’re brothers, and I cringe.
“Isn’t that awkward for him?”
He shrugs. “Sexual intercourse with siblings is taboo in your culture for a good reason, but our kind aren’t like you.”
The difference between us suddenly looms before me, an enormous canyon of doubt and fear. He’s not human. Not even an approximation of human. He’s very other. He doesn’t even look like the man-shape he takes for me.
“Will you show me your real form?” I ask.
He holds me tighter and whispers, “Will it make you less afraid of me?”
My heart aches as I realize he’s felt all the things I just felt. “I’m not afraid of you, Rhaz. I’m afraid of what I don’t know about you, and how it could hurt us if I’m not careful.”
How long does he live? Will I grow old and feeble while he’s still this gorgeous Adonis? Will he continue to love me when I do? What will happen to him when I die? Can we have children, really?
I’d never considered having my own kids—it wasn’t something on my radar as a young woman caring for her brother and grandmother—but if we can get my parents home, then Rhaz and I could make a real life together. Maybe in a few years—or like ten years?—I could consider having a kid or two.
He sits up, sliding me down to the bed, and rises.
His powerful legs flex as he stands and removes the condom.
I admire his thick glutes with a heady fluttering in my stomach.
The curve of his tail connects at the top of his cheeks, leading into his defined spine.
Sweat slides down his muscular back, and I trace the lines up to his dark, luscious hair.
Why haven’t I run my fingers through it, yet? It’s suddenly an overwhelming need.
I stand on the bed, making me tall enough to reach him.
I push my fingers through his hair and against his scalp, combing out his black strands.
It’s like silk between my fingers, cool and smooth.
I massage his scalp on the next pass and he groans, leaning his head back until it rests on my shoulder.
“I like the way your eyes follow my form, how you yearn for it close to you. I don’t want that yearning to stop when you see the shape my creator made for me.”
“It won’t,” I say, confident that I can make this promise.
Even if he has twenty eyeballs and slimy tentacles, I’m going to love him. The thought smashes through all the doubt that has been building.
I love him…and I think he loves me, too. So we’ll be okay. There’s nothing we can’t overcome with this kind of love on our side.
“Show me,” I whisper in his ear as I comb out his hair.
His gaze darts to me, just one eye watching me warily. His throat rolls as he swallows. I wonder if this was too far, too fast. Maybe I should tell him I love him? Would that make it any better?
No.
He knows how I feel, because he can feel it.
I banish all doubt from my mind, replacing it with one thought.
I love you.
He closes his eyes and, with a deep sigh, pulls away.
He turns, facing me, and holds his arms out.
When he opens his eyes again, they burn—literally.
Flames lick the skin of his brow as embers dance across his skin, quickly enveloping him in a whirlwind of fire.
The flames grow and shift, taking on a much larger shape than Rhaz.
I gape up at him, unable to move despite the inferno that’s overwhelming me.
My eyes water from the heat, but I keep them open, begging for glimpses of his transformation behind the dancing fire.
The magic reveals his legs first, changed from claw-tipped feet to bulky hooves.
Black fur covers his shins to his knees, where his reddened skin pulls tight over hulking muscles.
His tail flicks from side to side, a tuft of black fur at the end.
He’s at least a foot wider and taller, an immense giant of a man, with ripped abs and bulging forearms. His chest is so broad I don’t think I could wrap my arms around him.
His neck is as thick around as my leg, and his face is… long.
He has a soft black nose at the end of his muscular jaw. His deep eye sockets burn even brighter below a heavy, dark brow. His horns are wide and thick, and a mane of black hair flows between them down the back of his neck.
The scars that cover his body create an asymmetrical pattern that my eyes can’t stop following—until I reach the spot in his chest where neon pink flickers. That’s me in there. Inside him.
Smoke curls from his nostrils as he huffs. “Well?”
I step off the bed and stand before him, dwarfed by his enormity. I place my hands on his stomach and look up past his cute nose to the fire of his eyes. I’m not sure if he can still see me, but I feel like he can.
“I think you’re gorgeous,” I say. “Not a single slimy tentacle to speak of.”
“That’s what you were worried about?” he asks, his hands finding my back.
“No. Not really.” I lean against him and sigh into the heat of his skin. “I am a little worried about becoming an old Nai Nai while you stay young and beautiful.”
“I love what’s inside this shell, Jiahui, not the shell.”
His murmured confession brings a tightness to my throat that I can’t swallow past.
“I love you, too,” I whisper.
He grabs me under the arms and pulls me up to his chest. I wrap myself around him, tucking into his neck and kissing his burning skin. He cradles me with so much restraint, like he’s trying not to crush me, but I want him to.
“Harder,” I mumble into his neck.
He chuckles, squeezing me a little more.
Time moves around us like a gentle breeze.
No destination. No rush.
It just is.
It’s just us.
I lose myself in the steady beat of his heart, and before I realize it’s happening, I’m asleep.
I blink awake and realize I’m on my bed, dressed in an oversized shirt that smells like Rhaz and a clean pair of his boxer briefs.
My cheeks hurt from the grin splitting my face.
The warmth in my belly and tight swoop of fear are so welcome and exciting.
I don’t have anything to fear with him. Time and distance have no meaning for us.
We will be together, one way or another, always.
Because we’re mates.
We’re eternal.
I bask in the splendor of his love for another minute, smelling the shirt and rubbing my face on it, before I grab my phone to check the time.
Six in the evening…and five notifications.
The scent of rice and sweet pork filters in from the kitchen down the hall and I’m tempted to leave the notifications unread, allowing myself a little more peace, but I know I can’t.
I unlock my phone and see that all five are text messages from the same number that sent the picture of Baba. Icy dread swallows up the space in my stomach where the fiery flutters lived, extinguishing the butterflies.
I don’t want to open it.
I really, really don’t want to open it.
Yet I must.
The cold band of panic slips around my ribs and begins to squeeze. My breath comes in short gasps. I set the phone down and stand up. I pace, counting my steps and aligning my breath to the rhythm.
I hum to the beat of my footsteps, and the fire of Rhazan’s song burns down my throat to my heart. The frigid band melts one hummed syllable at a time until I can breathe easy once more.
I’m strong enough to do this.
I grab the phone and unlock it, my finger hovering over the messages button. My ribs cinch together painfully and I choke on my next breath.
I close my eyes, humming again until my muscles relax. I breathe deeply for another minute, letting the air whoosh into me on big waves that rumble out through me in deep song. My skin dances with heat. It feels like Rhaz is right here with me.
I’m not alone.
I don’t have to do this alone.
I clutch my phone and walk out to the kitchen.
Nai Nai is stirring vegetables in a wok while Ace sets everything out on the table.
It looks delicious, and I wish I could ignore the darkness in my hand to enjoy the light with my family—but this isn’t all my family.
Some of them are depending on me to do what’s right. What’s necessary.
“You okay?” Ace asks, his eyes wide.
“I got messages from Lei,” I say.
“What did they say?”
I shake my head. “I haven’t looked. I…need you guys to look with me.”
“Dinner first,” Nai Nai says. “We can think more reasonably with a happy stomach.”
“But the anticipation is going to eat me alive!” Ace says.
“Eat or be eaten,” she says in a playful, sing-song way.
She takes the wok off the stove and sets it on a hot pad at the table, then reaches out to me.
“Phone,” she says in a tone that does not allow for any backtalk.
I give it up and she puts it in one of her cardigan pockets.
“Dinner.”
Ace lets out a long huff of frustration but says nothing else.
I sit down with them and we eat. Nai Nai talks about the new wards she applied to the storeroom doorway to better keep out the skreet.
I nod mechanically and thank her, my attention narrowed in on the red number five sitting over Lei’s number in my inbox.
Ace and I both finish our meals quickly and are left to suffer as Nai Nai eats at a reasonable pace. I’m at the edge of my sanity when the realization hits me.
This is out of my hands.
Nai Nai will let me have the phone when she’s ready, and there’s nothing I can do, short of ripping off her sweater and taking it back—which is absolutely not an option.
I imagine Rhazan’s voice in my head. The tenor and pitch, the way his chest rumbles and how it feels against my face when I rest on his shoulder. He hums in my mind and the song flows through my body.
The mark on my wrist wriggles with iridescent fire, and a calm settles over me. Then it settles over Ace, too. He stops fidgeting with his chopsticks and places his hands in his lap. His breathing deepens, and so does mine.
Nai Nai looks up at me with a wrinkle-eyed smile. “Now, we’re ready.”
I sense the nerves tingling in the palms of my hands. The anticipation is palpable, but the stress it causes is manageable. I can see what it’s doing to me, and I can tell it no.
No, I will not let Lei make me feel small and helpless.
No, I will not devolve into a panic attack from his threats.
I will read these messages and I will allow their meaning to enter my mind. My mind will work on the problems the messages present, and so will my family’s minds. We will talk. We will find solutions. We will support one another and get through this, together.
Together.
Nai Nai pulls the phone from her pocket and hands it to me. I take one more deep breath and open the texts and read them out loud.
Lei: You think I don’t see you booby-trapping the coffee shop?
Lei: You’re a fool, xiao mei mei, and the consequences of your inaction will be great.
Lei: Meet me here tomorrow at noon. Alone.
The next message is a map location, and the one after it…
Another picture of Ba holding a sign with today’s date. He’s thinner, and his eyes are ringed by dark circles, but the strength and defiance in his expression are strong. Maybe even stronger.
“Sign,” is the only word below the date. His eyes are telling me not to. My parents are not stupid, and they’re not weak. If he’s telling me no, he has his own plan. Even if that plan is just to endure until justice is served, it’s his choice.
And it’s time I made mine.
I let out a long breath and set down the phone. An idea is already forming in my mind, and I’m going to need everyone’s help to make it possible.
“Nai Nai, call Deelia,” I say with resolve. “We have wards to scribe tonight.”