Page 139 of Theirs to Crave

Blissfully happy was fast becoming the norm. It was a daily struggle not to fret about when the other shoe would drop and ruin everything, but most days I won the battle. Telling myselfI prepaid for this joy by surviving my shitty ex and forced trip on Bug-Alien Intergalactic Airlines helped. Telling my stupid catastrophizing anxiety brain to kick rocks and let me be happy helped less, but was satisfying, so I did that too.

We were all nervous about what would happen when we went to the village next. The first couple days after the Arvel Incident, I’d bounced back and forth between crying, dissociating, and bouts of giddiness that left me exhausted. My mates had stayed with me—holding me and giving me space as needed. Then the storm had come, bringing with it peace. A pressure I hadn’t realized had been weighing on me lifted, and free from my own expectations of how I “should” heal and how I “should” present myself to the people in the village, I finally began to process the latest in this series of unimaginable life changes.

The storm-touched in the village had predicted this would be the last squall of the season, and a big one at that. I didn’t know if their connection was psychic or stemmed from close study, but those who suffered from the arthritis-like ailment had an uncanny ability to predict weather patterns.

So, I had a few more days before I had to face the village. And hopefully by that time, people would be too concerned with preparations for theAthulenvangto spend their time whispering about me. That reminded me—

“Are we going to have a mating ceremony at theAthulenvang?” I asked, tilting my head in response to Litha’s gentle tug. In the eyes of the Teterayuh, we were mated as soon as we all consented to it. But rituals were important.

“I would like to,” Litha said, putting the final touches on my hair. Moving around me, she lounged, chin resting on her fist as her tail curled around my ankle. “Will you tell me about the mating ceremony of your people?”

I thought of my and Drake’s magazine-perfect English garden wedding, so different from the all-day affair full of devotion and family I’d always dreamed of.

“Uh, it varies a lot.”

Litha’s ears flicked, her nostrils fluttering with her inhale, and her honey eyes darkened.

Impossible to hide the sads from mates who could literally smell it on you.

“Are there things you’d like to include?” she asked delicately.

“I want my family there.”

She nodded. “Of course.”

“And food. Lots of food.”

“A feast. All your favorites. Nolellek.” Litha winked.

“Music! And...” I trailed off, swallowing past the bittersweet press of emotion. “I’d like to set up an ofrenda. For my parents and grandparents.”

Litha pushed herself up, touching her forehead to mine. “Zhai vailah. Yes. It will be done.” Zaf’s voice called from outside, and Litha smiled, kissing me. “I’d like to talk more about theDeeya day los Mwairtosyou’ve spoken of. And any other things your people hold sacred. I cannot return you to your people, but I will do what I can to help you and your kin to find happiness here,sha’vail.” She brushed soft fingers over my heart.

“But now, your meal is ready. And we shouldn’t keep them waiting.”

For the first time, I recognized the excitement in her posture. Anticipation glowed in her eyes as she stood, offering me her hand.

I took it, following the path of her waving tail as she led me outside. Something was definitely going on.

Zaf and Revik crouched between us and the table, blocking it from view. As one, they stepped aside, revealing a platter of roasted meat in some kind of sauce, a bowl of minced...something, and in the place of honor, my sad, lopsided little basket, full of steaming, purple—

“Tortillas?!”

My mates grinned, all three of them puffing out their chests like great big peacocks.

I didn’t sit so much as I collapsed by the table. The tortilla was hot in my hand, and I moved automatically, rolling it between my palms. I took a bite and froze, lips trembling. A tear slipped down my cheek as I chewed.

“Estrayuh?”

It didn’t taste exactly like the tortillas I grew up on. A little sweeter, almost like plátanos. And the texture was just a little meatier, although that could have been because they were thicker than I was used to. But it was definitely atortilla.

“How?” I sniffled, taking a second, bigger bite.

“I went to Naryanuh,” Revik said, slowly, his eyes searching mine. “I asked for his help making you a courting gift. I wanted to bring you something good from your old home.Sha’lelesha, do you like it?”

“I fucking love it!” I wailed.

His ears snapped up and he laughed, suddenly at ease.

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