"What exactly happens in this mating ceremony?"
Finished with his work, he floats around to faceme. "I've never attended one, but I've heard reference to them being incredibly intimate and private affairs. It all seems very exciting!" Starcroft clasps his hands in front of his metal body as though he's swooning.
"Intimate," I echo.
Fuck, I don't know if I'm ready to take all five of Mekkra's heads. I start sweating, worried that we're about to go blast into mostly uncharted territory with each other’s bodies. It's not as though it's not exciting to imagine what it might be like… but I don't think I'm ready for all that quite yet.
"Incredibly so." Starcroft's eye screen flip into digital glee.
I walk over and plop backwards onto the bed. The stiff ruffles of the skirt float up around me, and I'm left to press them down so as to not be buried alive in their opulence.
"Where did he even get this thing?" I ask incredulously.
"Once the trade for you was secured, Mekkra obtained your measurements from the Deenz and got the best tailor in the galaxy to create your whole wardrobe—including your mating robes."
I hadn't thought about the fact that it might be hard to buy human clothing off a rack here. That everything I have now is by Mekkra's design and careful planning.
"Oh," I whisper as a lone tear breaks free and slides down my cheek. "He must have really wanted a mate."
Starcroft's eyes grow more serious. "More than anything."
Worthy, wanted, and free to go if that's what I choose.
"Ready? Mekkra is ready to receive you."
I take a deep breath, push out of the red cloud of fabric, and stand up straight.
"Ready as I'll ever be."
When the door to Mekkra's room opens for the first time, I'm not sure what I expect, but it's not this.
Every square inch of the room—save for a narrow path worn into the steel—has been surrendered to flora. The path winds between dense clusters of leaves and flowers, leading to a threadbare chair whose silver arms look polished smooth from years of use. The air is thick with the humid scent of fresh soil and strange alien saps.
The walls themselves have vanished underneath curtains of purple vines. They're coiled over every surface, their lacquered-looking leaves catching the scattered rays of the red lights I've grown so familiar with. I find myself wondering if the lights on the station are actually grow lights. The vines weave all the way down to the floor, like some living, creeping tapestry.
Set throughout the room are several glass cloches. Inside them, delicate flowers bloom in soft bursts of color, pale whites and ghostly lilacs. The blossoms look as though a slight breeze would bruise their trembling petals.
It feels less like a bedroom and more like a dark fantasy of a greenhouse, overgrown and slightly wild. Somewhere the outside world isn't welcome, and yet I've been invited in.
From a corner, I see Mekkra's shadow. He steps toward me, into a ray of crimson light, and hisbeautiful, earnest face is revealed. He's wearing metal armor over his broad body. It looks freshly shined.
Mekkra looks down at my hand and sees the ring.
"Mae—you're still here." His breath catches—then slows, careful.
"I am."
The warlord reaches out his hand and touches the side of my cheek with his palm. He sucks in a sharp breath on contact.
"And you're real—I haven't gone completely mad yet."
"And you won't." I put my own hand over his. "Because I want to be your mate."
His eyes soften.
"This is so wonderful, I'm so excited to take part in your mating ceremony." Starcroft's voice bubbles behind me.
Mekkra's eyes shoot up, and he pulls me forward before depressing the door panel and snapping it shut behind me, leaving the droid alone in the hall.
