“But I’m not a reward, and there’s already someone I—hey, I can get that,” I mutter. A pair of sky-blue hands are attempting to take off my toga.
“You can’t bathe in those rags, you’ll get the tub filthy,” someone whines.
“But why even have this Great Proving? Surely you can choose your own mate, you seem like capable ladies!” I plaster a forced smile onto my lips.
I wiggle out of one grasping hand, only to fall into the grips of another. These “jewels” are a force to be reckoned with. If anyone should be scared, it should be the men of this world.
For a moment, the hands are still, and Yissku’s voice cuts through the throng.
“It’s a kindness. There are so few females left that to be a prize is safest. We deserve to be with the male most worthy of protecting us.” Several tentacled heads nod, accepting their fates, before attempting to disrobe me once again.
“I’ve got it, really,” I try to tell the throng of handsy women.
The nearness of the flock of females, the suffocating feeling of the steam, and the realization that I might never see Kitaico again come to a head. The panic truly sets in as they attempt to unravel the wrapping around my palm.
“Back the fuck up,” I snap, pulling my hand against my chest.
“Excuse me?” Yiskku barks, her demeanor changing entirely.
“I’m not a prize,” I say coldly. My fingers stumble, itching to unwrap my hand.
I don’t know how I’m going to get my point across without showing them, though.
“I don’t need any of this, because I already belong to someone.”
“No one has been found worthy of you yet, but they will. It is a blessing, truly.”
I pull the last bit of wrapping off my marked palm and ball it into a fist.
“I’m already someone else’s blessing.” Taking a deep breath, I show the group my mating mark.
It’s like watching a train crash. The Andjin women flash a myriad of colors as the confusion sets in.
“Kitaico is mine, and I am his.”
“Hopeful Kitaico has taken you as his mate…without being found worthy?” Yiskku’s eyes go wide with horror.
“No, it was an accident. It was my fault.” I shoulder the guilt for the mating sting, even though I don’t really think there’s any blame to assign.
It just happened.
“He’ll be put to death,” a voice in the crowd whispers.
“No, they’ve just taken him to talk to him…it’s going to be okay—” I’m rambling, my eyes searching their now forlorn faces.
“He took a mate, without permission…” Yissku mutters.
“We consummated nothing.” I blurt out, trying anything to convince them he deserves to live.
That statement gets their attention, and Yissku’s brows raise.
“Even through your heats, he never touched you?” She doesn’t believe me.
To be fair, I said mated, not touched.
“We never mated, I swear it.” I hope that mating means a literal attempt at procreation. I will leave off the several instances of getting each other off if it means it’ll save his life. Mating and touching aren’t the same.
“No male could resist the urge to rut after taking his mate’s mating sting, though. You lie!” A particularly judgy looking Andjin seethes.
“I don’t have a stinger, or whatever you all do. I never marked him!” I hold up my wrist frantically to what feels like my jury.
Yissku grabs my arm and jabs a finger into the flesh where my stinger should be.
“She tells the truth. The alien has no mating barb.” She narrows her eyes. “But what of your heat? You took his venom, did you not?”
“He tied me up, restrained me so I wouldn’t hurt myself or force myself on him. He kept telling me he hadn’t been found worthy yet, that—”
She puts her palm up, silencing me.
“We will tell the elders your tale, although I believe you. Kitaico’s fate will lie in their hands.”
Just as quickly as I was whisked through to the bathing chamber, I’m brought back up to the main entrance door. Yissku opens it, and the guards bow to the flock of jewels with wide eyes.
They march me through the halls on a mission. The whispers of guards grow the closer we get to our destination. Finally, the bare-chested females demand that the doors in front of us open, and the guards stumble quickly, complying to their command.
The forceful rush of bodies behind me propels me into the room, creating a sensation of being swept away. Despite the scene I’m sure the women have created around me, even the elders lower their gaze.
The only set of eyes I see looking at us, at me, are Kitaico’s.
