Page 36 of Bred By Sor'en

twenty

Hue

The next two limtics pass much the same. Another thing the spooky stories didn’t disclose about Xyreliths is the insatiable mating heat the males enter after bonding. There’s been little speaking and an even smaller number of coherent thoughts. Sor’en did exactly as he vowed he would, kept me mindless, sated; bound to his bed, not with chains or ties but the sheer force of his will. When he's letting me rest, he is in his fields. Melion is often by my side, although I keep getting the impression he’s waiting on something from me, although I’m unsure what that thing is.

When I step outside the cleansing unit, keeping my hair up and twisted away from the powerful dryer, I am not surprised to see my new shadow there waiting for me. “Morning, Melion.”

He surges in what I call his happy greeting. Melion has a few different ones I’ve found. His annoyed greeting, which is noresponse. Sad greeting, which I have been getting a lot lately, is a soft, slow warble of his form, and this one, which can only be described as a violent swirl. I pay him no mind as I towel off my hair, something odd lodged in my throat. It's moments like this… when I’m not being fed nor fucked that the thoughts seep in. All too ready to ruin the fake bliss. It's like having a blaster aimed at your head, like you know at any second, any slip of the finger, all this will slip away. In quiet moments, reality is loud, suffocating even. His heat has passed, although at least for the past few solars, he has pretended it's not. Not that fucking me is any chore for him. Sor’en wants me badly. It is a dangerous feeling for a woman like me.

A woman who has not felt wanted in a very, very long time and never likethis.

A woman who can’t stay.

Lunareth is no longer a place to rest for me, that much I’ve come to… perhaps not terms with, but realized.

It's still somewhere I have to go.

With or without Sor’en.

If he can’t sneak into protected airspace, then that only leaves one solution.

That I go alone.

The thought is gutting. My movements are robotic and numb as I head to the wardrobe blended with the wall. I barely react when I see it's empty, slowly turning to take in the disastrous state of the bedroom. My clothes are torn and littered everywhere.

Which I hadn’t minded in the moment, but suddenly the loss hits me. My lip wobbles as all the pretty things I had gained lie ruined on the floor. Tears well in my eyes, blurring Melion as he surges closer, trying to comfort me with his warm wind and swirling darkness.

It only makes the tears fall harder.

With a brush of darkness in the white room, we’re no longer alone.

“What is wrong, my mate?” Sor’en asks, his hands cupping my cheeks, slicking them with the oil I’m going to miss so much.

An unholy-sounding sob leaves my throat. Because this isn’t just about the stupid fucking clothes. I’m going to ruin this, ruineverything. Even if I find my way back to him… what will that look like? He’ll hate me. Of course he’ll hate me; they all will.

In a breath, I’m gathered into his arms and carried to the bed, not even his sudden burst of speed pausing my sobs. “Hue,please,” he begs, worry clear in his voice. I don’t answer him, sniffling and wiping away tears that fall faster than I can dismiss them as he takes my head, forcing my eyes to his. “Please. What has hurt you?”

Melion warbles closer, reaching out again in a gesture he does often. I never know how to respond, so I usually just offer him a smile. I can't smile right now. His bright violet lights dim at that, only making my chest hurt more. “My clothes are ruined,” I sniffle.

It's not about the clothes, but I keep going. “I-I don’t have anything of my own and they were sopretty.I’ll never own anything like that again. I’ll never havethisagain.”

I’m scared I’ll never find my way back to you again.

It will take nearly half of my overpriced dowry to reach Lunareth.

The other half to get anywhere close to quadrant one, if I can even find someonewillingto get me back planetside. Which is unlikely. Notthisplanet and its infamy. What if I do and they don’t accept me back? I sob harder, trying to wrestle my face away from Sor’en because he knows it's not about the clothes either.

He tsks, spreading his oil over my lips with his thumb. A warm caress slips over my mind, calming me, and I know it’s a toxin. I know I should hate it when he does this, but I don’t.

I’ve spent my whole life being tough.

I don’t want to be tough or angry or mean with Sor’en. I want to be small and helpless and let him handle everything.

He kisses me gently, and even through the anticipation of grief, my sore body responds to him, making me squirm in his lap. “Yes, it seems I have horribly wronged you. Let me make it up to you, my mate. Let me take you into the city. You may bleed me for everything I am for my insolence. Spend my credits on whatever you wish. Everything that I am is yours. I will deny younothing.”

I sniffle again, the world around us stilling as I stare back into his white eyes. A heartbreak, perhaps even worse than the one I suffered with Sofaxi, splits my chest in two when I see the resignation bleed past his smirk. Sobering my death-touch mate. I hate that I put it there. I hate my mom a little too.

Sor’en’s arms wrap around me, tethering me to him as he leads me out of his home, dressed in nothing but one of his tops that fits me like a shapeless dress dragging by my feet. A far cry from the fitted, structured clothing of his people. I glance at the fields, fighting past the desire to break free from Sor’en and run through them again. So, I turn my gaze away as the odd craft zips in beside us, unmanned. Apparently, they are for everyone’s use, on a need by need basis. All Sor’en had to do was call for onewith his data pad, which he keeps in his clothing, one I’ve almost never seen him use.