I couldn’t breathe, I couldn’t think. A single thought kept replaying in my head: she had broken the circle. And yet, underneath it, fighting for dominance, lurked another thought: my mate had been hurt. The cool breeze on my empty hand felt instead like the scorching heat of a thousand fires. With that gesture, in that split second, Susan had cursed us to a broken and miserable union. Her being a stranger had already been a challenge that the people had accepted with a bit of reluctance. But now, they would never acknowledge the authority or legitimacy of a Clan Mistress anointed through a doomed union.
It was all the more heartbreaking that, judging by her expression, she had not known.
“All is well, Olix Nillis,” Molzeg said in Universal, in a calm but loud voice so that all would hear. “Take back the hand of your mate and reform the circle. She did not deliberately sever it. My clumsiness caused it.”
Maybe so, but the circle had still been broken. It had to be a sign from the Spirits.
“The circle was broken,” Zoltar argued from his seat, a couple of meters from us.
A few others in the gathering nodded their heads with a troubled expression on their faces.
“The circle was not broken,” Molzeg said in a stern voice, glaring at him. “It was breached, yes, but never broken. Her right hand, the one that holds the foundation of their union, never parted from him. This means they will face difficult times—as is to be expected when mating with an off-worlder—but their roots are strong enough to withstand and vanquish the storm.”
My lips parted as I gazed at her right hand that had indeed remained tightly bound in my left. In fact, when Susan had felt pain, the grip of her right hand had tightened, as if seeking strength and comfort from me. Relief flooded through me. Although I couldn’t yet see it, and new though it was, this was proof that we indeed had a strong foundation. Difficult times, I could weather.
Zoltar harrumphed his doubt, but the Elder Seer’s words appeared to mollify the others. Susan was looking at me like prey cornered by a predator. Guilt and fear shone bright in her brown eyes. I extended my right hand again to my mate. The eagerness with which she grabbed it, and the relief on her face almost made me smile.
Yes, we were strangers, and both had doubts about the other but, like me, Susan truly seemed to want this to work. We would find a way.
Molzeg resumed the ceremony, expediting the rest of the process. This time, she barely brushed the somitan branch over my mate. That idiot Zoltar would never let me hear the end of what a weakling my female was. The swipe that had made Susan cry out would have barely tickled a youngling. And yet, I could see the angry welts already rising on her skin where Molzeg had struck.
How could such a fragile species have survived this long and even grown to be far more advanced than ours?
Still, our union ritual shouldn’t have caused her pain. My protective instincts wanted to take her to our dwelling and apply soothing ointment on it. Thankfully, this was coming to an end, but I expected Susan would balk some more about the next step.
Molzeg separated our hands before handing a dagger to my mate. Susan eyed it with complete confusion.
“Andturians bite each other to seal their union,” the Seer explained. “The mating bite is not only a visible symbol to all that the person is bound, but our saliva also contains healing agents. The exchange reinforces each partner’s immune system. Your teeth are too blunt to pierce your mate’s scales, since they are the thickest around our necks. You may therefore use this dagger.”
The horrified look on Susan’s face both embarrassed and irritated me. Was everything really this overwhelming to her? I wanted this union to work, but it seemed like every other moment pointed out another reason it couldn’t. I was beyond ready for this ceremony to be over.
“You want me to stab him in the neck?” she asked, disbelieving.
“Yes,” I replied in a slightly clipped tone.
“But… but I could seriously harm you,” she stuttered.
“No, you won’t. Go ahead,” I said, trying to speak patiently.
Susan tentatively raised the dagger, her hand shaking. When she hesitated a moment too long, I gave in to my annoyance, closed my hand over hers, and stabbed at the fleshy part of my shoulder. She gasped in fright when the tip sank in. I yanked it back out, barely bothered by the sting.
“See? It wasn’t that hard. Now, you must lick a drop of my blood off the blade,” I said, praying that she wouldn’t make another fuss.
This was becoming beyond humiliating in front of all the clans. To my relief, she complied. However, guilt quickly replaced it. Susan was visibly shaken. I didn’t think she had licked the blood willingly, but more in an automatic fashion, shock making her simply go through the motion. I was making a complete disaster of things. I should have had my mother prepare her better for this.
“I will now bite you,” I said, my voice coming out a bit rough due to guilt. “It will not harm you. There will only be a little sting.”
She nodded, her eyes wide as saucers. I placed my hand on the left side of her neck before leaning in to bite the right side. My innards twisted when I felt her trembling beneath my touch. The slightly acrid scent rising from her skin confirmed she was indeed either frightened or traumatized. I was a failure as a mate. She had looked so mesmerized and enchanted when the ceremony had begun. And yet, I had managed to ruin both her human and Andturian weddings.
Swallowing down the bile of shame rising in my throat, I gently caressed the side of her neck with my thumb in what I hoped to be an appeasing gesture. Not wanting to prolong her discomfort, I summoned the healing fluids in the sac at the back of my throat then quickly bit her, making sure not to sink my teeth in too deep in light of how fragile her skin was. She stiffened at the sting but didn’t otherwise react.
I licked the wound, the iron taste of her blood lingering on my tongue. Within seconds, her eyes widened, but this time with awe as the healing fluids in my saliva sealed the wound, keeping it from bleeding further and numbing the area.
“You are officially mated before the Spirits and the Andturian people,” Molzeg declared. “Welcome to our family, Clan Mistress Susan.”
The people tapped their tails and whistled their welcoming chant. This was finally over. I turned to the people and tapped my tail twice on the ground while pressing my right palm over my heart. Susan eyed me before repeating the gesture, tapping the ground twice with her right foot instead.
It was beyond adorable.
Everyone started laughing, but not in a mocking way. Despite the earlier incident, approval shone on their faces at her attempt to adapt to our customs and working around her limitations. That instantly lightened the general mood, and she gave the audience a timid smile, a pale redness creeping back on her cheeks.
Thankfully, while she’d come fetch Susan’s bag, my sister had the foresight of warning my people of the meaning of a human’s reddening skin. Therefore, no one panicked and instead observed the phenomenon with undisguised curiosity.
“Come, my mate,” I said in a gentle voice, placing my hand on her back to nudge her forward. “We will go to the Great Hall for the feast.”
She hesitated and gave me an uncertain look. “Would it be okay for me to put some clothes on, now? It’s a little chilly, and I’m getting cold.”
Her redness increased again. And then she shivered, and a swarm of bumps erupted all over her skin.
“Are you unwell?” I asked, instantly worried.
“No, no! It’s just goosebumps. That happens when humans get cold or when we feel certain types of emotions,” she explained sheepishly. “It will fade away in a few seconds.”
My mother coming to stand next to us with an inquisitive look on her face put an end to that topic.
“Susan is cold,” I explained to my mother. “Her skin requires clothes to maintain a healthy body temperature.”
My mother’s eyes widened in understanding. “I will take her to your dwelling so that she can dress. You attend to your guests,” she replied.
“Thank you, Mother,” I said, affectionately.
Susan’s relieved and grateful smile made my chest tighten again. She was making many sacrifices for me, and I wasn’t taking good enough care of her. Once this evening had concluded, and our guests had departed, I would start doing better by her.
“Please tend to the welts on her sides while at it,” I added in Andturian.
“Of course,” my mother replied before ushering my mate home.
I watched them walk away until they entered my dwelling. Luped’s hand on my shoulder brought my attention back to my immediate surroundings. Smiling, she gestured with her head at the Great Hall. I smiled back and walked alongside her, accompanied by the other guests. As soon as I entered the building, my heart filled with gratitude for my people. Despite the scarcity of food, all the clans had contributed to give us an impressive feast.
I did a quick round of the many tables surrounded by circular benches where the clans had taken their places. In the center of the room, a large warbull had been roasting on a spit alongside a couple of boars, and smaller game meats. Various roots and vegetables wrapped in giant leaves were cooking near the coals. Gatherers from all clans were beginning to carve the meat so they would be ready to serve the meal once my mate had returned.
After expressing my thanks and paying my respects to the other clans, I made my way to the main table at the back of the room. Unlike the others that were circular, this one was long, narrow, and rectangular. It had benches only on the far side so that the people sitting there could face the other guests in the room. While my council usually shared that table with me, today, only my mate and close blood relatives would.
Naturally, I didn’t make it there without getting intercepted by Zoltar. The male was becoming a thorn in my side. There had always been a healthy competition between us, ever since our childhood. He had wanted to be clan leader in my stead—and still did—but acknowledged that I was the better Hunter. However, since the game had increasingly been deserting our hunting grounds, Zoltar had begun challenging me more often and more vocally. He believed his ideas on turning the situation around would work better than mine. Molzeg’s insistence that I mate with an off-worlder to help save our people had only reinforced his belief that I was no longer suited for the role.
In his stead, I would probably feel the same.
Zoltar wasn’t a bad male, just too impulsive and headstrong. He was a great Hunter but would make a terrible clan leader.
“Well, that was an interesting spectacle,” Zoltar said in a taunting voice. “You mated a plucked bird more brittle than a twig.”
“Watch it, Zoltar,” I snarled, taking a menacing step towards him. “It is my mate you are speaking of and your Clan Mistress. You will not disrespect her.”
However, his comment was all the more offensive that the exact same shameful thoughts had crossed my mind the first time I had laid eyes on her.
“I mean no disrespect, Clan Leader,” Zoltar said in the most insincere apologetic tone. “But she is shockingly fragile to this much pain from such a light flick of the somitan branch.”
“Do not be so haughty, cousin,” I said in a harsh tone. “Yes, her species lacks the natural protection granted by our scales, but that is no bragging right. We didn’t earn our genetics. We merely inherited them. She had the courage to uproot herself from her homeworld and come live among complete strangers, bigger, and stronger than she is, plus she’s making every effort to embrace our foreign culture.”
“Bah,” Zoltar said, waving a dismissive hand. “We are a peaceful people. Our customs do not require much sacrifice to adapt to.”
“You know not what you speak of,” I said, disdainfully. “You mock her, but if you were the one marrying a human female, would you have worn the multi-layered clothes their males wear, with shoes? Would you have kissed your wife when asked?”
“Kissed?” Zoltar asked, the same curiosity reflected on Luped’s face and that of the other people listening in on our conversation.
“It is a human custom where they press their mouths against each other’s as a sign of affection,” I explained.
Zoltar made a disgusted expression. “I would do none of that nonsense. Andturians do not wear clothes or touch mouths with others.”
I tilted my head to the side, giving him a scornful look. “So, you would disrespect your mate? You would spit on her customs?”
Zoltar had the decency of looking embarrassed. Once again, he’d shown his propensity to talk first, think later. But that reminded me that Susan had in fact spared me the discomfort of wearing those strange clothes human males wore and would have also spared me the awkwardness of kissing had I not insisted. She was going out of her way to accommodate me.
“You wouldn’t dress to honor your mate, and yet Susan made a great sacrifice by undressing for the ceremony,” Luped interjected. “Her people do not just cover themselves to protect their soft skin, it is considered offensive to undress in public.”
“Why?” Zoltar asked, echoing the question burning my tongue. “Are they ashamed of their appearance?”
“Not at all,” Luped replied with a sliver of annoyance at this less than subtle attempt at a barb. “Susan undressed to honor our ways and to please Olix. She only covered what her customs deem otherwise highly inappropriate. She says her body is only for her mate’s eyes. Showing her reproductive parts to any other male would be a great disrespect to Olix.”
That took me by surprise, but it also greatly flattered me. Others looked intrigued, while Zoltar also appeared confused. Susan returning with my mother put an end to the conversation. She was wearing a long, flowy white dress without sleeves. I wondered if this was the human wedding dress she would have worn had we performed a full human ceremony instead of the basic one she settled for. Still, it made me look at her with new eyes.
It hugged the curves of her chest and torso, a second layer of semi-transparent, highly ornate fabric decorating it. The long skirt, much wider, swished as it undulated with each of her steps. She had kept the ceremonial paint and hair decorations my mother and sister had put on her. The overall effect was rather pleasing to the eye.
Susan came straight to me, a timid smile on her lips.
“Your dress is quite beautiful,” I said, genuinely appreciating the craftsmanship, but also wanting to make her more at ease.
Her face turned red again, throwing me for a loop. I had meant to compliment her, not embarrass her. Further adding to my confusion, instead of the look of humiliation I’d expected to accompany her skin coloration, Susan gave me a broad smile, showing her blunt white teeth, her brown eyes lighting up with pleasure. Did human skin also redden when they were happy?
“Thank you, Olix,” Susan said with genuine happiness. “I’m glad you like it.”
“I do,” I replied, returning her smile. “Come, let us feast.”
“Okay,” she said in a breathy voice.
We headed to the main table, my mother to my left and Luped to my mate’s right side. We remained standing.
“Thank you, clanmates, neighbors, friends, and family for joining my mate and me on this special day,” I said. “I would extend to you the hospitality of Monkoo, but it is we who benefit from your generosity in preparing this bonding feast. Eat, drink, dance, and let us celebrate not only this union, but the enduring friendships of the Andturian clans.”
The people tapped their tails and whistled in response. The Gatherers began serving the food, bringing large plates of everything to each table so people could pick and choose what they wanted to eat. Ours was served first. To my delight, Susan didn’t act skittish about any of it. She tasted everything, asking questions, especially about the vegetables, but the meats as well. Luped was all too happy to answer her.
Although she enjoyed the berry cider, Susan further pleased me with the restraint she displayed once she realized the strength of its alcohol level. She continued to parsimoniously sip on it, not letting it get to her head.
When the meal ended, the Gatherers—aided by some of my clanmates—took away the remaining food to the kitchen at the back. There, it would be equally divided among the clans. In the meantime, Hunters removed the spits and covered the cooking pits to turn the central area into a dance floor. First, the males and females of each clan performed ritual hunting dances for my mate. The way her eyes sparkled and the enthusiasm she showed in clapping her hands as she observed them earned Susan the approval of the people.
Then, we joined them on the floor. Although she possessed a good sense of rhythm, my mate struggled with reproducing some of our traditional steps. It made me realize how much crouching it involved and the level of lower body strength it required. The absence of a tail to counterbalance some of the movements also increased the difficulty for her to imitate us. But she eventually settled in a comfortable middle-ground that made the steps easier for her while being close enough to the real thing.
One by one, the visiting clans began to leave, those located the farthest leaving first. But the festivities continued well after the sun began to set and long after my mate and I had retired to our dwelling.
