Page 19 of Bred By Sor'en

“Put me down.”

My head snaps toward her, shocked by the sudden venom in her voice. “Draya’la…”

“I want out of herenow,” she orders, her eyes empty and trained on her hands clenching my garment, even with her knuckles bleached of their color from the force of their grip doesn’t hide the way they shake.”

“You’re afraid,” I state.

“Nope, just ready to go back. I’m cold, and you…" She pauses, her breath quickening like she’s trying to think of a way to finish her sentence. “You stole my dress.”

What?

“You’re upset about your dress?”

“Yes, the one the agency gave me. It wasmineand I can’t find it now. Either start walking or put me down so I can, Sor’en.”

My name on her lips is a treat. I savor it despite the unhappy tone, giving a soft dip of my head to the male beneath the dirt, the Xyreliths down the way. Indignation budding in my chest as I head back the other way. “I will replace it then.”

Females of my kind are honored to be mated to a botanist. Besides any elders who linger close to the veil in the limtics before they pass, I am the closet. Closest to our goddesses, the ones who have loved and left. I keep our fields, keep our dead. I am an honored male. Revered. Respected.

She dislikes it.

Dislikes me.

Everything about me in such a fundamental way that suddenly it's hard to breathe.

We reach the house, and she all but scrambles from my arms, barely waiting for me to guide her safely to the ground before she’s half running back into our home.

Females do not like you because you are unbalanced.

You are a monster.

Even the little human can see it.

Melion zips to my side, sensing my distress.

I cannot bring myself to greet him.

The awe I had watched grow in her eyes as she ran through my fields is gone. She’d stared at the sky the entire way back instead of my flowers. Only because I was the one who grew them? I huff out an annoyed breath, darkness swirling in my chest. Melion flares larger, swirling too. “It is still new,” I assure him andmyself.

Already, I am dreading how she will react when I tell her she must be bonded to me by the ways of my people in the next few solars, that she will hate me even more should she see the alternative. My hands fist, bonding toxin slicking my palms. It'smeant to prepare my mate for our vigil, and I am running low. My body is desperate to make more. It doesn’t understand that it's no use. The sole biological imperative is weakening its host uselessly. Her denial is pointless, much like my cursed toxin. She is my female, even if she hates my fields, my ways, myface.

I am a monster, yes? So, I should have no issue forcing the matter. She will attend our bonding vigil. She will cry and whimper as I place the petals from my flowers in her soft, warm mouth. She will take my seed, and those petals will keep her alive as she grows our young.

Or I will eviscerate everyone on this planet and the next.

Even with the fires of indignation and anger burning in my chest, my steps falter.

I do not aspire to be feared by her.

A snarl rips from my throat as I head for the fields away from the female in my home.

ten

Hue

I can’t stop seeing Mom.

Every blink offering cool fur, limp tails, and empty slitted eyes.