Page 7 of In Her Own Rite

“I guess.”

I reach out and put a hand on her arm. “Kieran’s not doing itbecauseof you. He’s doing itforall of us. So that, when we have three council seats, we can get our own place one day.”

“Alright, alright. Thanks. I just feel guilty ‘cause, like, Kieran didn’t even want me here to begin with.”

I nod. The Fakaris have been isolated from the mainland for generations, and letting Maren in from the States—even when she’s half-Fakari—was a big deal. The council was evenly split on the vote, and she was only allowed here because she had living family on the islands. It took Kieran a while to warm up to her, but now they love each other—and bicker—like siblings.

“Yeah, but it’s totally different now,” I say. “We all love you. And wewantto get a house together. Think of it this way: with how much Seb and thefikaelders are arguing, you’re doing us a favor. If you weren’t here, we wouldn’t have thought to move until way later.”

“I guess. But still, it’s a big deal. And I guess I worry, because of…”

She gestures wordlessly, and I nod.

“None of us saw what happened with Seb coming,” I say quietly. “It’s not usually like that. It won’t be for Kieran. Especially because—” I try to make my voice playful. “This salve is way better than whatever chemical garbage you guys use on the mainland.”

She laughs. “Neosporin, probably.”

“Yeah, way better than Neasparing. Now come on, I’m gonna show you how to make it. Watch, you’ll be ready to start selling these yourself in less than a week.”

Maren laughs.

“That was a joke,” I add. “Don’t get any ideas.”

I show her how to strain the oil infusions using a cheesecloth, and together we pour what’s left into new, sterile jars. As she writes the date on them, I start to boil some water at the stove on the counter, and get to melting the beeswax in a double boiler.

“What does the bergamot do?” Maren asks, picking up the little essential oil vial.

“Oh, that’s not for Kieran’s stuff.” I keep my gaze on the beeswax as it begins to shine.

“It’s for your moisturizer?”

“Mhmm.”

“Yeah, I noticed you’re wearing more perfume lately.”

I feel my face grow warm. Maren is a shifter, but she’s new to the islands and isn’t familiar with a lot of her own strengths, let alone our culture. Which means she can smell something different about me, but doesn’t know how to identify it—and more importantly, not to ask.

“Yeah. I’m going through some stuff. The creams are supposed to help.”

“What kind of stuff?”

“Oh, you know. Like an annual thing,” I say, hoping she catches my drift.

“Your birthday…?” she asks, like she wasn’t here when we celebrated it in the summer.

I give her a look, my cheeks hot. “Come on. Seb or Saga never talked to you about this?”

Maren puts a hand on her hip and cocks an eyebrow. “Uh, I have no idea what you’re alluding to, so how would I know?”

“Has anyone ever… did anyone ever talk to you aboutheat?” The last part comes out like a whisper.

Maren’s brow knits for a moment, and then her eyes go wide with recognition. “Oh.Heat.”

“Yeah, that’s… that’s what’s going on with me. Or, will be soon. I only expect it in a week or two, but I’m already… noticing the effects.”

“Interestingggg,” Maren says, sitting down on one of the bar stools before the island. “Like what?”

“I’d rather not talk about it.”

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