22. Traditions

I should open my eyes,I should beg him not to leave me—but I'm a coward.

I'll stay in this hazy place between bliss and sleep and push the feeling that Kitaico is being forced to abandon me down deep.

When his lips brush my brow, staying detached feels all the harder. I know he understands because he doesn't push me back into reality.

With the utmost care, he sets me down onto a velvety surface, like a feather gently landing on a cloud. As soon as I catch a whiff of the incense, I am certain that I have arrived in the jewel's chambers. Kitaico will leave me here and go fight in his battle to the death.

"Sleep, sweet Lena. Don't worry, I'll return to you," he whispers.

With his touch slipping away, I grit my teeth and bite the inside of my cheek to suppress the urge to cry out. As his footsteps fade away, a wave of sadness washes over me, and I can't hold back the tears any longer.

When I finally am brave enough to open my eyes, the golden tiles nestled in the ceiling are blurred. The lights are dim, only a few glowing orbs float around the space like some kind of alien night light.

When I sit up, I bring my knees against my chest. I'm reclining on one of the chaise lounges, just like the Andjin females were doing when I first spotted them.

To think that I'd be having a breakdown where one of those decadently ornamented creatures sat hours earlier is laughable.

Without a doubt, I'm in the midst of a crisis. Just like my heats earlier, emotions surge through me uncontrollably. My love for that sweet alien is something I had only just realized, and now the fear that I might lose him. My adoration and terror collide within me like a speeding freight train, leaving me completely shattered.

I let out a groan, and my stomach twists and turns with unease. The pain is a sharp, stabbing sensation in my body.

Why the fuck didn't I hold him one more time?

My body sways as I rock back and forth in my seat, trying my best not to feel the anxiety. I need to be strong—but I can't.

I didn't think I would get a happy ending, and maybe I still won't, but the fact that I'm so close to it and it might be ripped away? Despair, it's the only thing I can think to call this feeling.

I don't know if I can be strong anymore.

As I wipe my stinging eyes with my forearm, a snot bubble unexpectedly bursts in my nostril. Through watery vision, I spot Yiskku's imposing figure in the arched doorway.

The shoulders of the gown are still encrusted with gems, but she's dressed in softer clothing than the chains of before. The sheer linen-looking fabric is wrapped around her body and tied with a golden sash.

She cocks her head, judging the sorry scene I'm making of myself, I assume.

"It's a hard night for all of us, you know," she says, a little abrasive.

"He's my mate," I say between the breaths that keep getting stuck in my throat.

"And they're ours." She strides closer. "Even the ones who lose the last challenge are our friends. This is never easy."

"You know them?" I ask, surprised that the jewels would be allowed such close contact with other males after seeing how cloistered their living arrangements are.

"Of course we do, how bizarre it would be to mate a stranger—" Yissku stops herself and bites her lip, her small fang hanging over the edge of her mouth.

"Yeah, bizarre," I say sarcastically as my heart breaks for my mate, who was just a stranger not so long ago.

"We—we are allowed to socialize with the hopefuls at organized events." She stutters slightly, regaining her confidence. "There are several festivals and dances throughout the celestial cycle. Each jewel has her favorite hopeful…we're rooting for someone too." Her face is sad, but I can't bring myself to ask her who her hopeful is. I'm going to have to detach myself from anyone in the final challenge who isn't mine.

"Then why do it? Can't you just pick a mate on your own? I don't understand all this ridiculous nonsense?—"

"I'm sure there are things on your planet I wouldn't understand, but that doesn't make your traditions anymore nonsense than ours." Yissku crosses her arms. "Things are the way they are for a reason."

"A reason? So you can be a prize?" I scoff.

"No, so that we can be protected, so that the breeding pool is strong. There are fewer and fewer females born every year—we have to do something!" She gestures broadly with her hands.

"But people are dying? How is that fair?"

"It's not fair, but it's what we do to make sure the jewels are safe. We are the life bringers, and without us, the Andjin would die out. But there's beauty and love here on the Korlyan Moon, even though it's hard fought."

She sits next to me, placing a hand on my thigh. I'm taken aback that she's trying to comfort me. I thought I was in line for a scolding.

"But death is the only option?"

"Death isn't the only option—but the hopefuls who choose to continue the Great Proving would rather risk everything for a chance at love. We all make our own choices. The males can choose to serve the Great Mother as celibate temple guardians, or find pleasure in each other or madness as exiles, or fight for the right to mate a jewel—at least they have choices." Her shoulders drop, her skin flashing a depressed gray.

"We don't have a choice, do we?"

"No, the jewel's choice was made by the Great Mother at our birth."

"Couldn't you become an exile too?"

She laughs sardonically. "I have no skills to survive in the wilderness. The elders make sure of that."

"So you're just as trapped as me then."

"No, whatever happens, you've known love—that might be more than I ever get."

A moment of realization dawns on me. She thinks I'm the lucky one.

And maybe she's right. Somehow, despite being light-years apart, Kitaico and I found each other.

We still have a chance at happiness, all hope isn't lost yet.

I grip her hand on my leg, trying to convey my sadness for her, but my hope for both our futures, all at once.

"I'm sorry, Yiskku. Tonight, can we dream of a happy tomorrow?" I force a smile to grace my lips.

"Only if you promise to cry quietly," she scoffs. I have a sense that Yiskku isn't used to opening up. She would fit in great in the Midwest. "The other girls' crying was keeping me up already—we'll sleep here, it's much less depressing." She shoots me a tiny grin.

I wipe my cheeks once more for good measure, take a deep breath, and recline on the chaise.

"Thank you," I whisper.

"For what? Go to sleep, control your emotions, human," she says with her eyes closed. She's trying to shrug off her attempts at comforting me, as if it's no big deal.

But it is.

I'm sure for some humans a kind word doesn't go very far—but for me, a Midwestern gal? Kindness is a fucking king, even if it's given begrudgingly or played down.

"For giving me some hope that if something happens to Kitaico, that I could still find a friend here. Except for him, space has been cruel to me."

"Whatever happens, and I'll remind you we're still hoping for the best, you'll be safe here—treasured even. You're a jewel after all," she says softly. "Now shut up and go to sleep."