so right.
The patter of the waterfall hitting the rocks and a bath in a pool that I’d call a small lake with therapeutic waters calms me. The scent of flowers and the small curious animals peeking between the bushes make this entire area a magical place. I can see why Hart picked it as his private bath. It’s beautiful, and I could spend days tanning out here. I pause to consider. Days…weeks…months. Years. A lifetime with Nar. He thinks I’m a goddess and treats me like one. No man on Mars or Earth would compare. While I fear these predators, there’s a lot about them and their Nomra Prime I like.
“Reminds me of Joylius in a way,” a woman says in perfect English, and I startle and spin around.
A brunette with white eyes like Nar’s and a kind smile stands by the bath. “Not the flora and fauna, but the atmosphere, you know.” She carries a bundle of furs. “These are for you. I saved these for me, but they should fit.” She places the furs on a clean rock, then removes a fur tube top she’s wearing and unsnaps her mini kilt before jumping in.
She emerges in front of me, arms outstretched. “I want to hug you.”
We hug, awkwardly at first because we’re nude, but soon the familiarity of her soft skin feels almost as good as my mother’s gentle caress from long ago. The woman squeezes me tighter. “It’s okay not to feel okay,” she says. “But you’re going to be okay.”
Tears gather in my eyes, and when she pulls back, I see she’s touched too.
I cry freely. She dunks underwater as if to give me a minute.
Oof, I needed that hug.
Emerging once more, she swims toward the edge, and I follow.
“I’m Stephanie,” she says.
“Michelle.”
“They call me Amti, goddess of madness and lust.”
“Aoa, goddess of thunder and pain.”
Neither of us speaks for a while. We needn’t say much. Strangers but not strangers to each other’s circumstance, we have an opportunity to find solace in each other and what we’ve been through. “Where are you from?”
“San Diego,” she says. “You?”
“Washington, DC.”
We exchange small talk for few minutes. It feels like I met her at a gala and we’re standing by the curtains, enjoying our champagne while crowd-watching. Stephanie is easy to talk to, words pouring out of her as if she’s also missed having a girlfriend around. I always had my sister, though not as of late, since she grew bitter because of that one man who turned his attentions to me. She’ll have him now. Hope he makes her happy.
Footsteps sound, and I look up. Nar’s brother, Hart, is broad shouldered, impossibly huge, with black hair woven into complicated braids decorated with jewelry and feathers. He’s tattooed, even on his face. The tattoo over his jaw makes me want to shrink into myself when he nods to me as a way of greeting. Luckily, that’s all he does before he looks over at Stephanie and winks, giving her a knowing smile.
She blushes instantly, sinking a little under the water. Her white eyes find mine, and I quirk an eyebrow. She giggles. “That’s Hart.”
“I met him in Nar’s room.”
“So Nar won you in the games, then?”
I shake my head, unsure of what I can say to her. Hart and Nar together didn’t exactly give me the warm fuzzies, and I can tell something isn’t right about me being here.
Stephanie bites her lip. “Is Gur still alive?”
“Last time I saw him he was.”
Stephanie nods. She appears as if she wants to tell me something and looks back at Hart, who stands by the firepit, watching her. When their eyes lock, he shakes his head, and I take that as a sign that Stephanie should keep quiet.
“Come on,” she says. “Let’s grab some beloys flowers. It’s like shampoo and softens the hair. Smells amazing.”
We swim toward where Hart’s setting up a place to sit. There’s thick cloths stacked over one chair that I think might be towels. Stephanie seems to have been here longer than I have. Her pale eyes tell me so. While she picks the flowers, I ask. “How come your eyes changed?”
“We think it’s the hook. There isn’t a way to know unless Nar marks you. Then we can know.”
“Marks me how?” I accept the enormous purple-and-yellow flower and sniff while she rubs the petals until they dissolve into a partial liquid state in the palm of her hand.
“Their hook latches to the womb.” She puts the flower