“So,” she says, glancing between them with a fierce look in her eye, “which of you is going to win?”
I gape at her. What kind of question is that to start with?
Khesan answers immediately. “I will. Fiona is my fated mate, as destined by the gods.”
It’s about the answer I would expect from him. But Shathar simply scoffs.
“What?” asks Marguerite, her gaze focusing on Shathar. “You disagree?”
“I will not fight this fight again,” he says instead of answering. “When the time comes, Fiona will make the decision that feels right to her, and I’ll abide by it.”
By the look on Marguerite’s face, this might have been the right thing to say.
But Khesan has not gotten the message, and claps a hand over his chest. “I am happy to fight for Fiona’s heart. I will do anything for it.”
Marguerite arches a brow. “Anything?”
He nods fervently. “Anything she asked.”
“What if she asked you to go home?”
He freezes, and I massage my temples. Really coming out of the gate with the hard questions.
“I suppose… if she asked me to go, I would.” Khesan deflates at the idea, and I put a hand on his shoulder. “But it would be a great blow.”
“Hmm,” says Marguerite as I hastily drink more of my drink. I want to get away from this awkward conversation. “What would happen if you had to go home, Shathar?”
“It would rend my heart in half.” He dips his head. “To live the rest of my life without my fated mate.”
Marguerite crosses her arms. “But one of you must go home at the end. At least, on Earth, a person can only be married to one other person. That’s the law.”
I’ve been trying my hardest not to think about this, and I glare at her for bringing it up again.
“All right, I think that’s enough,” I say, slapping my empty cup down on the table. I don’t want to spend any more time mulling over the decision I’ll eventually have to make. Just have fun and get to know them, I tell myself, taking Khesan’s hand, and then Shathar’s. “Should we go out there and dance?”
Khesan nods. “I am amenable to dancing. Though all I know are Arshurian dances.”
“That’s fine.” I hop out of my chair and tug both my husbands along toward the dance floor. Amara and Roth’kar are quick to follow, and Marguerite finally brings up the rear as we descend into the throng.
I did not realize exactly what an Arshurian dance entailed until we are surrounded by other people, and they start doing it.
I can’t quite put it in words, this dance. They both move their bodies wildly, stretching their arms out and then spinning before putting them down again. It’s more like a series of fast yoga poses than a dance, and it’s so bizarre that I want to cover my face and back away. It’s not long before the other dancers notice two aliens among them, and make room, giving them the floor.
Now Khesan and Shathar speed up their eccentric dance, moving with the frantic beat of the music. Everyone is frozen, all of us humans watching in disbelief but entranced nonetheless. It is, perhaps, the most alien thing they’ve done since arriving on Earth.
“What the fuck?” whispers Marguerite as she watches them spinning in wild circles.
I shrug helplessly as they eat up the dance floor. I suppose I did ask for it.
Finally, the song ends, and many of the humans standing around awkwardly clap. Shathar and Khesan snap their claws at one another, then they return to my side, both of them looking mighty pleased with themselves.
“It is a pleasure to dance again,” says Shathar. “Thank you for this opportunity.”
“Um, you’re welcome?”
“Did you like it?” asks Khesan, curling an arm around me. “It is a mating dance. To show you I am a worthy mate.”
I swallow. So that’s what it was.
