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“In some ways, it is. If we hadn’t asked our gods for help, they wouldn’t have taken you.”
“I’m one woman. Please don’t expect me to save your people.”
“If you wish to have young with me, I’ll welcome you with open arms.”
She snorted. “I’m sure you will.”
“But if you don’t wish for young, there are herbs you can take to prevent a child.”
“Forever?”
I joined her, leaning against the outer wall, my lower arm brushing against her shoulder. “I would love to hold my youngling in my arms, but I would never force such a thing on you. You’ve already been forced to come here, to be my mate.”
“Do mates ever divorce?” She explained the concept.
Turning to face her, I stroked her hair. So soft. Her appearance stunned me all over again, and my heart squeezed beneath my ribs. She was gloriously beautiful and it would hurt if she ultimately rejected me. “True mates like us? No.”
“You’re saying I’d have no say in this?” she growled.
“Just like with having young, it is your choice to stay with me or not, but true matings are rare. More often, they’re fertile. No one would ever consider ending such a relationship. But if you don’t want to be with me, I’d never force you to do so.”
“I appreciate you saying that.” She gazed up at me with her lovely eyes. Tiny hairs sprung from the lids. Zuldruxians only had hair on the tops of our heads. I’d already noted she had strips of fluff above her eyes, plus tiny, fine pale hairs on her arms. I’d discovered wonderfully coarse hair between her legs as if her folds and sweet pussy hid behind a briar shield.
How would that hair feel to my tongue? Would it be soft like the hair on her head or barbed? It hasn’t pricked my fingers, though.
My groan ripped out, a sound full of frustration and desire. I was eager to taste her everywhere, and she was equally eager to leave me.
She eased away from me, and I released her hair, letting it fall to drape across her shoulder.
“You wanted to speak with your gods?” she asked, the fluffs above her eyes lifting once more. I’d already noted she used the gesture when she was surprised, but it seemed to be part of an inquiry as well.
“They reside in this structure.” I tapped the smooth crystal wall we’d leaned against.
“I’ll admit, this place is incredible,” she said. “Gorgeous. The colors.” The awe in her voice was appropriate. We were near the gods. They’d be listening. She should be amazed by the beauty of their structures.
“The varying colors represent each of our clans,” I said as I led her along the outer aspect of the central building. The entrance to the main god room was on the other side. “My clan, the Indigan, resides within the gods that are gifted with the colors blue and silver.”
“That’s the color of your buildings.”
I tapped a place in the wall whose color perfectly matched. “Other clans live in crystal structures of red or gold, bluish green and white.”
“How many clans are there?”
“Too many to count, though in this area? There used to be three but now there are four.”
“Why four now and not before? I thought your gods had been here for longer than you remember, that your people were dying out.”
“Nevarn, the traedor of the new Celedar Clan, lives in the forest along the lake. He did something horrible and was banished from the Dastalon Clan.”
“What did he do?”
“We don’t like to speak of it.” I lowered my voice as if the world was listening when actually, in this sacred place, only the gods would overhear. “He killed his mate.”
“His true mate? Is it because she wouldn’t give him a divorce?”
“She wasn’t his true mate. I don’t know why he did it, but it was a terrible crime. Since life is sacred here . . . How can it not be? We’re a dying species. Each person is precious. He was banished rather than killed for the murder.”
“Whoa.” She peered around. “And you said he lives in the forest near the edge of the lake?”
