Page 22 of Bred By Sor'en

The suave, proper, soft male from moments before hunches his entire lanky frame. His hand trembles as an animalistic roar leaves him so loud it hurts my ears, the sound reverberating and echoey. His palm is slick and outstretched toward the… very old-looking Xyrelith standing before him. I flinch as Sor’en roarsagain, the same roar as a warrior would cry, but his is all the more eerie for it. Breathy, warbling, horrifying sound you’d hear in a deep forest at night. As if his voice is fractured in two.

I try to backtrack, but he turns on me, letting loose another horrifying sound of warning in my face.

I slap him out of sheer reaction, my own jaw popping open comically.

I shake my hand, trying to ward off the screaming pain from making contact with the bones on his face.

His answer?

His tongue.

I yelp as a long, purplish colored appendage leaves his throat, lapping up the side of my face. My eyes dart to the elderly male who seems almost amused by the whole spectacle.

He doesn’t meet my eyes when he speaks; his gaze, while calm, remains trained on the outstretched palm still aimed toward him like a loaded blaster. My pulse thrums and core aches as I’m crushed against my Xyrelith’s body. A body that has suddenly lost its toned form and devolved further in the moments my eyes were off it. His bones are even more hunched and protruding. Animalistic. God, I am fucking terrified. Because whatever this is… I do not think it's Sor’en. Melion slams by us, growing to insane heights as if to back up his friend. The whole scene is chaos. Our bodies jolt as the elderly male opens his mouth to speak again, Sor’en swiping out with his slick palm.

The other male winces in tune with me as it nearly connects with him.

Nearly.

That’s when it dawns on me as Sor’en clutches me tighter, a rolling, warbled, eerie, “Mine,”filling the space that he’sdefendingme from this other male. That his outstretched, welcomingly slick palm certainly does not contain the warm,sleepy oil I’ve grown to enjoy so much. Just a single droplet of the toxin there would kill me.

“Young botanist, I am not interested in your star-faring female. Only in letting her know the importance of the bonding that the two of you are putting off.”

I stare at him. He stares at that outstretched hand like one would stare at a deadly snake. I should probably be doing that too. “What bonding and what the fuck is wrong with Sor’en?”

The older male doesn’t miss a beat. “When a Xyrelith is newly mated, he must bond his mate within a solar or—"

Another roar fills the space; we both ignore it.

“Or he can become… testy.”

I look up at the weirdly malformed version of Sor’en. Yeah, testy seems like an understatement.

“He did not tell you, did he?”

I glance back at the elderly male, guilt edging into my stomach. Well, new guilt, mixing with the typical guilt. That day in the flowers, he’d wanted to talk and I…

Rejected him.

Rejected everything he was.

He’s been odd since.

“I uh-well, how we do we fix this?”

Sor’en tucks me away now, bringing me between his large skeletal legs. Tucking me deeper under him, but Melion has returned to his normal size, apparently having decided for himself his master is just kind of losing his shit currently.

“Let him bond you. We will have a vigil at nightfall. Normally, you would be collected by females and prepared, but we shall see what our revered botanist can handle when he comes back to himself. Right now, he has depleted his bonding oil. He is weak and unbalanced. Darkness has taken hold of his form and he will not listen to reason. It is why our males are so feared when they are newly mated. He must bond to you, or his body will continueto deplete trying to encourage the bond. We will remedy this as soon as the moons hit the sky. Go with balance,” he suddenly says in departure.

I blanche. "Wait! You can't leave me here with him like this! What do I do? What doesanyof that even mean?”

The elderly man glances over his shoulder, his long gray hair coarse, what was certainly a colossal form scrunched in on itself. “You are his balance.Heisyourresponsibility. I assume you will figure it out.”

And then he’s gone.

Fucking gone.

The weird animal version of Sor’en snarls as if to tell him off on his way out.