Page 124 of Theirs to Crave

Tsalot didn’t scream “Murderer!” when he saw us, Hopeful Me argued, doggedly.

Cynical Me snorted.He’s in shock. He probably didn’t even notice we’re here.

“¡Cállate!” I hissed.

Litha flicked her ears, unsure.

“Go.” I mentally shook myself. “Zaf will stay with me. Right?”

Zaf nodded, curving a hand around my hip.

“Please stay here. Do not go to the funeral without us. We will be back soon. Yes?” Litha rose to her full height, staring down at me as she waited for my answer.

I murmured my agreement and stretched up for a kiss.

Revik sent a much calmer Tsalot off with the admonition to take to the trees and “guide, not chase” theraysheel, then came over for his own kisses.

After purring reassurance at our admonitions to be safe, they were gone.

I walked into Zaf’s embrace, feeling some of the jittery tension melt away as I was surrounded by his warmth.

“Come, I want to show you something.” Zaf slid his hands down my arms, tugging playfully at my fingers.

“Litha asked us to wait here,” I protested, an answering smile curling my lips.

“It’s not far. You’ll like it, I promise.”

I laughed and stopped pretending I could resist him. We walked for a very short while—my idea of how long a walk was had changed dramatically since finding myself on Doluna, but even in the good old drive-everywhere days, I wouldn’t have considered it more than a stroll—and Zaf stopped dramatically before a thick wall of leafy vines that blocked the way forward.

I inhaled deeply, my eyes fluttering shut in pleasure. As part of his courtship, Zaf had been taking me on a flower tour of Doluna. Back on Earth, I used to grab lunch at this amazing taco truck in the next parking lot over, and eat in the rose garden a block away. I’d never once said I liked flowers, but Zaf had noticed. He’d shown me glowing flowers, flowers that dripped shimmering drops of pink honey-water, flowers with teeth, and flowers with buds bigger than my head. I’d loved them all.

But these...they smelledfamiliar. The scent summoned others from my memories: melting wax, sweet bread, my Nana’s perfume, tequila. It was so strong, so exact, that I was surprisedwhen my eyes opened and I didn’t see candlelight dancing on brilliant orange rounds made of a million ruffled petals.

I stared at the riot of dahlia-like blooms, each one creamy white darkening to deep indigo in the center. Their leaves were glossy magenta, long, twisting, and narrow.

Closing my eyes, I inhaled the sweet, spicy scent of marigolds. Of home.

“Lelesha?” There was a rustle as Zaf knelt before me. His thumb was soft across my cheek, wiping away a tear I didn’t remember crying.

I cupped his hand in mine and pressed my face into it, breathing deep. “I’m okay. They’re beautiful. What are they called?”

“A’auna. Why do you cry, Estrayuh?”

“Can we sit?” A moment later, Zaf was arranging me comfortably on his lap. I drew in a breath saturated with the scent of flor de muerto and tried to think of how to explain everything that the flowermeant, rather than simply what it was.

“In my village, we have something similar to anAthulenvang, I think.” Different villages was how we’d explained the differences between Mariano and my Mexican heritage and the more mixed American upbringing of the rest of our human family. “We believe the spirits of our dead come back to visit us once a season-cycle, on Día de los Muertos. There is a celebration that lasts two days, filled with special food, dancing, and family. We set up ofrendas with images of our family who have passed, and their favorite food and drink.”

Zaf listened intently, his hand still on my knee.

“We light candles—tiny fires—to welcome the spirits. To help guide the spirits to their ofrendas, we cover them in a particular flower. They’re about this big,” I shaped a circle with my hand about two-thirds the size of thea’aunasurrounding us, “and bright orange. But they smell...” I inhaled deeply, humming, “exactly like these.”

“I had no idea,” Zaf said, brushing his forehead against mine. “I meant only to bring you pleasure in thea’auna’sbeauty, it humbles me that you found so much more.” He hesitated. “Would you like to—”

A scream echoed through the jungle.

It was clouded by distance, and cut off sharply, leaving only pulsing silence. But it sounded like—

“Tsalot?!” Zaf called, voice raised to carry through the trees.

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