Chapter 216

Another mate selection was happening, and this time, the whole family came.

The island held these gatherings a few times a year, whenever enough of the young had come of age to make it worth the trouble. The young males and females would gather and mingle and decide whether they wished to bond. It was a grand affair, full of flowers and nervous smiles and whispered conversations, the air thick with their scents and hope and the particular tension of youth trying to be brave.

I had attended many of them since coming to this world. Dozens, over the years. And yet, strangely, I had never accepted a single mate from the selection itself. Not one. Every bond I had formed had come about through its own strange path, its own private chaos.

With Caelion, I had attended the selection and declined him, because at the time I had not wanted another mate, and his heart had broken a little, and he had smiled and pretended it was fine. It was only later, when he saved me from Rina’s cousin Ken that I accepted him as my mate.

With Veylan, it had been different. He had never formally asked me at a selection but according to him, it was because I rejected every male that asked. And if he did asked me then I would have said no as well, but he had not needed to. Because during one of them, in the middle of the gathering, Veylan had been poisoned.

The poison had been moonrut sap, a cruel and terrible thing, a substance that set a male’s body on fire with the desperate, aching need to release, or else burn from the inside out until he died. It had been Rina’s doing, of course, a scheme to force his hand, to make him touch her, to bind him to her before he could slip away. She had wanted him. She had always wanted him. And so she had poisoned him, expecting that in his desperation he would turn to her.

But Veylan, stubborn Veylan, had refused.

He had gritted his teeth and borne the agony and refused her. He had been willing to die rather than submit to her. And so, in the panic and the fear and the desperate hours that followed, I asked him if he was willing to be my mate, to save his life.

I had saved him that night. And we had belonged to each other ever since.

So the selections, for me, had always been more of a stage than a marketplace. A place to watch, to observe, to enjoy the spectacle.

And now I was bringing my daughters to one.

Levy, of course, insisted on going. Seraya, Nyssara, and Elira, unable to resist their sister’s enthusiasm, came too. Theo went with us, because Theo went everywhere Levy went, and most of my mates came along, drawn by the spectacle and the chance to keep an eye on things. Veylan and Eryx stayed behind with the pups, because Veylan didn’t want his pup coming to such a place that is far to advance for their age. And the older boys, Atlas, Chase, Ryder, and Jasper, steered well clear, muttering about stares and discomfort and too many females. They were nearly three now, of age themselves, and they wanted nothing to do with the chaos of selection.

My cheetah boys, on the other hand, came along happily. They were four months younger than my second litter, still too young to draw any attention, and they loved the bustle and the noise and the food. They ran through the crowd like golden whirlwinds, chasing each other, dodging legs, making friends with every beast folk child they met.

The serpent children came too, because their sisters came, and where the girls went, the boys followed. And Soryn came with them, because Soryn could not bear to be away from his daughters, and because he had decided that the selection was a hunting ground and he was the predator watching over his young.

So we arrived in force, a small army of mates and children, and settled ourselves at the edge of the gathering.

And then it began.

The young males strutted and posed. The young females preened and blushed. There were flowers and whispered conversations and nervous laughter. It was exactly as ridiculous as it always was, and I settled in to enjoy the show.

My daughters, however, had questions.

"Mama," Levy asked, tugging at my sleeve, her dark eyes wide. "What are they doing?"

"They are meeting each other," I said. "Deciding if they want to bond."

"And then what?"

"And then, if they choose each other, they become mates."

Levy considered this. Then she asked, loud enough for half the gathering to hear, "And then do they make babies? Like you and my daddies?"

My face heated.

"Why are you asking these kinds of questions?" I demanded, though I already knew the answer. My older cubs. It had to be my older cubs. They hung around the adults far too much, picked up far too much, and then spoke about it within earshot of the girls as though the girls were not listening.

"Yes or no?" Levy pressed.

"Yes," I admitted. "Yes, they do."

"And how do they make the babies?"

I looked helplessly at my mates. Aureon was laughing, openly laughing, his shoulders shaking. Ravin had raised a single brow, his expression one of mild amusement. Leon and Soryn, though, had their mouths slightly open, their eyes glazed, clearly having expected none of this.

"That," I said, "is a longer conversation."

Levy nodded, apparently satisfied, and turned back to the selection. But she was not done.

"I cannot wait until I come of age," she announced.

"Why?" I asked.

"Because then I am going to bond with Theo."

She said it loudly. Confidently. As though it were a fact of nature, an inevitability of the universe. And the effect on my mates was immediate.

Leon went red. Actually red, his face flushing, his jaw tightening, his black eyes swinging toward Theo with the kind of intensity usually reserved for enemies in battle.

"Over my dead body," he mumbled.

Theo, who had been quietly sipping water, shrank back.

Soryn, meanwhile, had gone very still, his green eyes fixed on the young male as though assessing him for the first time. "Theo," he said slowly. "I mean he is a good kid...but I’m not sure if he’s good for our Levy"

"Yes a good kid, very handy too," Aureon added helpfully. "He plays with the kids very often never complaining if their too much—"

"Enough," Leon growled.

My daughters, oblivious to the chaos they had caused, were already distracted by something else. Seraya had spotted a boy walking towards another female and was pointing and giggling. Nyssara and Elira had wandered toward the food table. And Levy was watching the selection with wide, fascinated eyes, as though she were taking notes for her own future.

Levy caught Theo’s eye across the crowd and waved, bright and uncomplicated.

Theo waved back, small and nervous.

And Leon, standing between them like a wall of protective fury, glared at the poor boy with the full weight of a father’s terror.

"Over my dead body," he repeated.

"You said that already," I told him.

"I mean it."

"He is a good boy, Leon."

"I know he is a good boy. That is what makes him dangerous."

I sighed. Aureon laughed. Ravin raised his other brow. Soryn made a low, considering sound. And Theo, standing in the middle of them all, looked like he wanted to sink into the earth and never be seen again.

The selection continued, the young males and females circling and smiling, unaware of the small drama unfolding at the edge of their gathering. And I watched my family, my ridiculous, overprotective, wonderful family, and thought that there was nowhere else in the world I would rather be.

But the night was far from over. It had started innocently enough.

At first, Levy was delighted. She skipped through the gathering with her sisters, laughing at the other kids playing, gasping at the flowers, devouring the food with the single-minded focus of a child who had discovered an endless supply of sweets. She waved at the boys. She giggled at the girls. She was having, by all appearances, the time of her life.

And then the females found Theo.

It began with one. A pretty girl, a few years older than Theo, with dark curls and a bold smile. She approached him, touched his arm, said something that made him laugh. Levy, across the clearing, noticed. Her head turned. Her eyes narrowed.

Then came another. Taller, with honey-colored hair, laughing at something Theo said, leaning in close, her hand resting on his shoulder. Levy’s smile began to fade.

Then a third, then a fourth, then a small crowd of them, circling Theo like moths around a flame. They touched him, they laughed, they asked him questions, they learned in and whispered. And Theo, poor, oblivious Theo, just smiled and talked and let them, unaware that he was being surrounded, unaware that a small, furious lioness was watching him from across the clearing with murder in her eyes.

"Mama," Levy said, tugging at my sleeve. "Mama, who are those girls?"

"Females of the island," I said. "They are of age. They are looking for mates."

"They are looking at Theo," Levy said. Her voice was flat.

"They are."

"Why?"

"Because he is kind and handsome and without a bonded mate."

Levy’s jaw tightened. "He is mine."

"He is not technically anyone’s yet," I pointed out.

"He is mine," Levy repeated.

And that was that.

She spent the next hour in a slow spiral of rising jealousy, watching the girls circle Theo, watching them touch him, watching them laugh at things that were probably not even funny. She stopped enjoying the gathering. She stopped playing. She stood at my side with her arms crossed and her eyes narrowed, radiating such a fierce, possessive fury that the girls began to notice.

"She looks angry," one of them whispered.

"She is small," another said dismissively. "What can she do?"

They found out.

By the time the third hour rolled around, Levy had had enough. She marched across the clearing, pushed through the circle of females, and planted herself directly in front of Theo, her hands on her hips, her chin lifted, her dark eyes blazing.

"Theo," she announced, loud enough for everyone to hear. "We are leaving."

"We are?" he asked.

"Yes. I am tired. Take me home."

"Ah. Yes. Of course." Theo, who had never once said no to her in his life, turned to the girls with an apologetic smile. "I am sorry. We are leaving."

"Wait, but—" one of them started.

But Levy was already walking away, and Theo, helpless, followed.

And that might have been the end of it, except that Leon, my wonderful, oblivious, catastrophically unhelpful Leon, chose that exact moment to open his mouth.

"Levy," he called after her, cheerful and casual, "why are you in such a rush? Let Theo enjoy himself. There are plenty of pretty girls here. Why does he not consider getting a mate?"

The effect was immediate.

Levy stopped. She turned. She looked at her father, and then at Theo, and then back at her father, and her face went through a series of expressions, shock, outrage, betrayal, and finally settled on something cold and terrible.

"What do you mean, consider getting a mate?" she demanded.

"Just that," Leon said, standing his ground, his arms crossing. "He is of age. There are females. Perhaps he might—"

"He has me," Levy said.

"You are not of age yet."

"So?"

"So, perhaps—"

"He has me," Levy repeated, and this time she turned and fixed Theo with a glare that could have melted stone. "You have me. Right, Theo?"

Theo, caught between the two of them, looked from Leon to Levy, then back to Leon, then back to Levy. He opened his mouth. Then closed it. Then opened it again. And in the terrible, stretched silence that followed, he said nothing.

Nothing at all.

Just stood there, blinking, his mouth slightly open, like a male who had forgotten every word he had ever known.

Levy’s eyes widened. Her face flushed. And then, without another word, she turned on her heel and rushed off in a huff, her black hair streaming behind her, her small fists clenched at her sides.

"Levy?" Theo called after her, finally finding his voice. "Levy, wait!"

But she was already gone.

Theo stood there, stricken, looking between the direction she had fled and the man who had caused all of this. And Leon, my stubborn, unhelpful Leon, stood his ground, his arms crossed, his chin lifted, watching the poor boy with an expression that was half satisfaction and half warning.

"You see?" Leon said. "That is what happens."

"That is what you did," I corrected.

"Same thing."

Soryn watched with a small, knowing smile. Aureon was laughing again, helpless, doubled over. Ravin shook his head, as he always did, and said nothing at all.

And Theo, after a long, frozen moment, finally moved, sprinting after Levy, calling her name, disappearing into the dark.

I looked at Leon. He looked back at me, unrepentant.

"You are a menace," I said.

"I am a father," he corrected.