Page 37 of Bred By Sor'en

My belly itches as Sor’en lifts me onto the craft, eyeing me curiously as I scratch at it. He opens his mouth to say something before Melion zips ahead of us through the fields as we launch forward. The shadow pauses for only a moment, tilting his head at his friend before continuing his floating sprint.

“How does Melion speak to you?” I ask as Sor’en urges me between his arms, bracing himself on the shimmering bars on either side of me as if a powerful gust of wind may very well launch me from the platform. I don’t try to stop him, more than happy to stay right where I am.

“It’s not speaking so much as it is an exchange of energy, feelings, andconcepts. We are joined, bonded, one and the same.”

I frown at that. “I think he dislikes me, at least sometimes.”

Sor’en huffs out a half laugh, his veins flexing underneath obsidian flesh in the most tantalizing way. “You couldn’t be more wrong. You are my mate. He is yours every bit as much as he is mine. He simply, like me, wishes to connect more deeply to you.”

“How do we do that?”

He sighs. “Perhaps that is a better conversation for a different time.”

“Well, that’s ominous.”

“Yes, I assume from your odd human perspective quite so.”

I turn on him, frowning still within the warm cage of his arms. “You’re supposed to placate me, you know. “Oh, it's not that bad,Drylala.”

He doesn’t have eyebrows, but if he did, I assume he’d be hiking one. “It is not that bad, Draya’la,” he offers simply before opening his mouth again and ruining it. “You merely bring yourself to a state close to death by consuming flowers he gathers for you, and in that state your souls may merge.”

My mouth drops open. “You suck at placating.”

He laughs, making a smile edge onto my face despite the absolute bullshit he just shared.

“I shall seek to improve then, yes?” he offers, whispering his lips across my cheek, anointing me there.

I flush, spinning to face away from him again and subtly rubbing it in with a curt nod and a noncommittal grunt.

This time, the city is not shut down in preparation for our vigil, and everyone is excited to see us. In their own balanced way, that is. With soft smiles and calm demeanors. My heart swells at the warm welcome, at least twenty Xyreliths greeting us at the craft with blessings of balance.

Sor’en growls as another male offers to help me down, making me suck my lips between my teeth to stop from laughing. I’m promptly hauled up into his arms as he disembarks.

“Apologies, botanist. I acted without balance. We have been waiting for your heat to pass so that we might meet your human again,” the male offers, his coloring slightly lighter than the rest and his hair another varying shade of gray.

The mention of Sor’en’s mating heat makes my cheeks flush even darker.

“Go with Balance, young Sla’nor,” Sor’en offers, and I can’t help but swell with pride at his effortless air of authority, immediately dismissing the other male.

“Are you truly not afraid, human female?” a soft voice calls out just as Sor’en and I get swarmed with other questions. Mostly about his flowers and different strains of them, picking rights, and I had no idea his job was so in-depth.

Even frenzied, they’re all so chill. Good god, none of them would last a day in an education pod. The thought makes a sudden burst of laughter leave me. Everyone stills for a moment before I stifle it, realizing that probably wasn’t very balanced ofme. I can’t tell who asked, so I just respond to the crowd. “I’m not afraid.”

And because it seems like a good way to compound the gesture, I reach away from my mate and offer them my hands.

All hushed conversation halts at that, making my breath cut off abruptly. Everyone murmurs, making that calming gesture above their heads, and it's clear I've done something wrong.

“Hue…” Sor’en starts as I go to retract my hands before a lighter shaded hand grips mine softly. My eyes widen on the smaller Xyrelith who pushed themselves to the front of the group.

They don’t do much aside from touching my skin, theirs are dry and free from oil. “Hello.” I smile at them weakly, still not sure if this is okay.

Sor’en is tense against me, but he doesn’t stop the youngling.

“It is a blessing to meet you, human.”

The crowd seems to relax after Sor’en retracts my hands, letting everyone know we were there to shop, and just like that, everyone leaves, walking about to wherever they were before. Mostly their own stalls full of monochromatic goods.

I turn toward Sor’en, getting close to his non-existent ear, which is more or less just a tiny hole in his head. “What did I do wrong?”