Page 49 of Bred By Sor'en

My mate has changed me much, but the core of me is the same.

Among the most shocking changes is that I no longer wish to undo, no longer wish I had ignored Clayan on our many hidden trips to Vortara during the Balla’mar’s meetings. Every moment, no matter how awful, brought me to her. To my mate and her soft golden-green eyes. Her red hair that bounces with tightspirals, and her warm skin that tastes like sap on my tongue. I can only hope she forgives me when this is all said and done.

I can only pray to the goddesses that I have a few more passes to hold her before I am forced to atone for the darkness I have bled into the world. That the moment she sees my shame for what it is, sees her mate forwhohe is, she might not look upon me with the disgust I deserve. How the anticipation of it makes her soft, peeking eyes nearly unbearable.

My worry for her health is abated as Melion has shown or felt no concern; the insufferable elderly male is putting up with my Vena’lel’s presence only because it means I am not there.

Melion being there is no different from me.

We are one and the same.

What he hears, I hear.

What Melion sees, I see.

“Botanist?”

My eyes snap back to the Balla’mar. “I shall check the fields tonight and let you know.” I offer him the flower. “This shows promise toward an offering. It would suit your purpose well.”

A rough glimmer in the distance shakes the dome, dragging his attention away from me as he takes the flower. “Yes...”

“Go with balance,” I offer halfheartedly.

“Go with balance, botanist.”

He’s only a few paces from me, far too important to move spatially like the rest of us, when he turns back.

I swallow down my suffering sigh. “Some way I can be of service to you, Balla’mar?”

He frowns. “Jin’rayal has been prepared to move with the veil for ages, but now his passing has slowed. He holds on foryourhuman. Why do you suppose that is?”

My pulse jumps in my neck, but the years have hardened me in a way they have not touched my people. I give nothing away,keeping my face neutral. “Perhaps he simply wishes to enjoy her company a moment longer.”

“Do you suspect he means to invite her into ya’shmal?”

My jaw ticks because I quite suspect the male already has. Because inviting one into ya’shmal is declaring another’s soul as your responsibility in the veil. Instead of passing into the goddess's embrace, he will linger with her for as many years as her soul remains with her form. The male who, even by my standards, is unbalanced, without ever showing a care for another in all of his long life, has chosen to guard my mate in his afterlife. A growl gathers deep in my chest, making the Balla’mar’s eyes widen, his deep, flowing robes swathing and pooling in his insufferable self-importance. Declaring another your soul's guard is a deeply private affair, deeplypersonal. An act of selfless love, so pure it is said to mirror the vow Pheor'aya offered to her sister. “Go with balance, Balla’mar,” I offer, simply, a warning edging my voice.

He swallows hard, clearing his death shimmer above his head. “And balance with you.”

Toxin buds fresh and deadly on my palms.

So I go to the singular being on this plane of existence that can ease my distress.

twenty-four

Hue

He made me pee on some damn flowers and then buried them in the corner of his tent like an absolute weirdo.

I scowl at the section of field Sor’en disappeared into zentics ago after insisting he carry me throughout the center and the entire ride back home. Muttering something about speaking with the veil. Which, to my understanding, he needs Melion for, which is why I amsupposedto be inside. Why this is the first time he has left me awake and unguarded. Only because I might’ve cried and thrown a slight fit when he tried to take me to bed. He’d settled on recalibrating whatever tech controls the exits of the home to remain locked. All but the skylight one.

He forgot that one. Suppose he thought I couldn’t get up there.

I could.

My hand lifts to my necklace, my palm clasping around both teeth there. Something I find myself doing more these past few solars than I have in kintics.

It had lost its grounding, sobering effect when my solars were so filled with Sor’en I had allowed myself to become blissfully lost.