“I know,” Baralt said quietly from the doorway, his eyes filled with concern as he studied his sister’s face.
Zemma swayed. “No! How?”
“Njkall told me because he thought I needed to know, and he was right.”
“I never wanted you to know,” Zemma whispered.
“We never need to discuss it again, but if you want to talk about it, then I will listen. I just want you to know one thing—I love you. That hasn’t changed, and it never will.”
Zemma burst into tears and threw herself into Baralt’s arms. Izzie’s own eyes were wet, but she gave Baralt a grateful smile before she slipped out of the room and left the two of them alone.
When Baralt eventually came to find her, she was standing in the bathing room with the outer door open, looking out over the mountains.
“Are you not cold, my aria?” he asked as he wrapped a blanket around her shoulders and followed it with his arms.
“A little, perhaps.” She snuggled back against him, still gazing into the distance. “But I wanted to clear my head.”
“Is it clear?”
“Yes, I think so.” She turned in his arms and looked up at him. “Do you love me?”
“You know that I do.”
“No matter what has happened to me?” Her throat closed down, and she had to force out the next words. “Even if I’m like Zemma?”
“Yes, my mate. Always.” His arms tightened, protective but not confining. “The slavers?”
“Y-yes. I angered one of them. He used the shock stick when I tried to fight, and I don’t really remember what happened, but I knew. I knew.”
The tears came then, and she had no way of stopping them. Baralt lifted her into his arms and carried her out onto the small balcony before sitting down in a sheltered corner and rocking her gently as she cried. The icy wind chilled her wet cheeks when at last her sobs shuddered to a stop, but the rest of her was warm in his embrace. Her head ached from crying, but she felt lighter than she had in a long time.
“Why did you bring me out here?” she asked eventually.
“So that you would not feel enclosed. So that your head could be clear.”
She looked up, and he was smiling at her, his eyes as warm and loving as always.
“Thank you. But I think I’m ready to go back inside.”
“Of course.” He stood and carried her through the bathing room to their bedroom. “I have something to ask you.”
“What?”
“When I asked if you chose to join with me on the ship, you didn’t understand what I meant, did you?”
“I thought you meant sex,” she admitted.
“And when I announced you as my mate, you had doubts, didn’t you?”
“Yes and no. I wanted—I want—to be with you, but it all seemed so sudden.”
“Does it still seem that way? If I asked you now to join with me, to be my mate, what would you say?”
Her breath caught in her throat, but her doubts had disappeared. The part of her that had been holding back had been washed away with her tears.
“I would say yes…” Her heart overflowed with happiness as she gazed up at his beloved face. “I choose you, Baralt. I want to be your mate. I love you.”
“Oh, thank the gods,” he murmured, and then his mouth was on hers, and there was no more talking.
A considerable time later, Baralt’s kotra finally softened enough that he could pull out of his mate. His mate in every sense now.
“I love you,” he whispered, and she opened sleepy eyes to smile at him.
“I love you too.”
“The Elders suggested we have a mating ceremony, and I think it’s an excellent suggestion.”
The sleepiness disappeared. “What?”
“A mating ceremony. Do you not have those on your planet?”
“Yes, but… Is it a big occasion?”
“It can be, but it isn’t necessary,” he added quickly as he saw the panic on her face. “Does it worry you?”
“I just—” She hesitated. “It feels like it should be a private thing, between us. I don’t want it to be something we do to make the Elders happy.”
“Of course not. We don’t have to do it at all if it makes you uncomfortable. But I like the idea of acknowledging our joining in the traditional way.”
“What is the traditional way?” she asked suspiciously. “Does it involve paxha?”
He couldn’t resist. “Of course. We go down in the caves together for the hunt. But we only need to bring back the heart.”
“No matter how much I love you, I’m not going— Wait a minute. Are you teasing me?”
He laughed. “Yes, my aria. You looked so convinced that it would be a terrible ordeal.”
“It wasn’t funny.” She poked him with one of her small fingers, and he only laughed harder. A reluctant smile crossed her face. “Okay. I suppose it was a little funny. What is really involved?”
“We make a pledge to each other in front of the Cave of the Gods. Witnesses optional. Generally there is a feast afterward, but that is also optional.”
“That doesn’t sound too bad,” she admitted, then gasped. “Your kiltar—you said it was for a joining ceremony, and we left it on Tgesh Tai.”
“I will wear my brother’s. It seems only fitting.”
“And Zemma has to be there, of course. And maybe Njkall. He’s been very kind.”
“Very well,” he agreed. “Is that all?”
“If that’s all right with you?”
“As long as you are there, I will be happy.”
And he was. He stood at the mouth of the Cave of the Gods, torches flickering in the ceaseless wind that whispered their secrets, and watched as his mate approached, escorted by Njkall. She had used the remnants of her golden dress to make a new gown, and it drifted around her with each step, making her look like a vision sent by those same gods. One of Zemma’s necklaces sparkled around her neck but the stones dimmed in comparison to the light in her eyes. His brother’s kiltar circled his waist, his sister was at his side, and he
