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~ SASHA ~
Sasha stood in front of a cloudy mirror that Lhars had lugged up to her home at Kyelle's request and stared at herself in the mirror. Kyelle had swept her hair up to pile on top of her head, then cascade down in loose curls.
The halter-neck of the dress seemed to draw the eyes up to Sasha's eyes, which were twinkling thanks to the dush Kyelle had blown onto her skin that made her shimmer and glow.
But the dress…. That beautiful dress.
It clung to her curves, emphasizing those that needed it, and somehow hiding the ones that didn't. Then it flared over her hips to fall beautifully to her ankles.
She'd questioned the length—Kyelle was a great deal taller than she and had shortened dress to mid-calf, where before it had floated around Sasha's ankles. But Kyelle had laughed.
"It's to keep your legs free if you need to fight. You can't risk getting your feet hooked in your own skirt. It's the same reason the skirt is full enough to allow full extension, but not so full that it will create bulk.
Sasha had nodded like agreed, but her head was spinning. What kind of world was she in that even a wedding dress had to be made with the potential for battle?
But then she'd turned back to the mirror and smiled. She looked ethereal—not a word that had ever entered her mind, or others, in relation to her.
Sasha was pretty—or striking at best. But too blunt and clumsy for actual elegance. Yet, here she was, swathed in soft white that waved gracefully in the breeze of even a breath. She looked like she should be in a wedding magazine, and she wasn't even wearing make up!
"This is amazing, Kyelle. I am… humbled that you'd let me wear it," she said, and for the first time it hit her.
She was getting married.
And she didn't know anyone but the groom. Not really.
Her relationship with her parents had been strained for the past two or three years, her mother in particular struggling with her inability to give up her attachment to Zev. Their divorce had been very hard on Sasha—in part because she wondered if stress over her had aided her parents in falling apart.
For the past few years Sasha had made her life with her friends, spending most holidays and occasions with them.
But that didn't mean she didn't care about her parents. She'd never imagined she'd be suddenly ripped out of her own world and into a new one, with no chance to contact them—or her friends, her chosen family.
They must be beside themselves. Rob would have notified them as soon as she didn't show up for work. Maybe sooner, since she'd fled through his apartment and…
What if the men with the guns had killed Rob?
Sasha blinked. She couldn't believe these things hadn't occurred to her. And here she was, about to vow her life to the man they'd all been telling her didn't care about her, had only taken what he wanted, then left.
None of them would see it.
Likely none of them would recognize it for what it was even if they did. She tried to imagine telling her mother that they weren't getting married, exactly… but she was walking through a mating ritual that was symbolic—and by the way, they were vowing themselves into the next life beyond…
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Her mother would have her committed.
A deep, aching sadness clutched at her belly. Her life before was truly gone. And the people that were important to her—and she to them—they were never going to know what had happened to her. It was going to kill them.
Unaware of her angst, Kyelle stood from straightening a hem at the back of the skirt and brushed the fabric smooth.
"When we walk through the village, you must be looking for Zev," the woman said softly, her own sadness stifled, but plain. "You cannot linger on any other males. To see them is fine, even to acknowledge them. But do not pause to converse. Keep looking for Zev and once you find him, give him the best of your focus—it is a symbol of your intention."
Sasha nodded and put one hand to her throat, nodding. She wanted to do this with Zev so badly. But like this? Without her family? Without her friends? While all of them thought—
"You have… oh," Kyelle said, taking a tiny breath, a reaction to pain.
Shaken out of her reverie, Sasha looked at the woman and found her staring at Sasha's hand.
The ring on her hand.
When Kyelle caught her looking, she swallowed and raised her chin higher. "That is Zev's ring." It wasn't a question.
"Yes," Sasha said carefully, turning the worn-but-beautiful leather on her thumb. "It's a human tradition before you ma—mate that the guy gives the girl a ring."
Kyelle hadn't taken her eyes off Sasha's hand, but her eyes were even sadder than before.
"That is… very special," Kyelle said, her voice hitching. "It was thoughtful of him, and appropriate."
"Appropriate?"
Kyelle nodded. "You know the reason Dunken gave him the ring?"
"Yes."
"Then you understand—very appropriate that it passes to you. A… completion of the circle."
Sasha smiled down at the ring on her thumb. "Yes, it is," she said, smiling. But when she looked up, Kyelle had tears in her eyes.
"Oh, Kyelle, I'm sorry. I didn't realize you knew—"
"No, it isn't that," she said. "I was… when he was here before he wore that every day from the moment Dunken gave it to him. But when he arrived this time, he wasn't wearing it. I thought… I just thought the wrong thing. Don't mind me."
The woman turned away, discreetly wiping her eyes, then bustling around looking for the flowers she'd brought to put into Sasha's hair, and offering her something to eat from the basket.
But Sasha agreed without really hearing her. Because Kyelle had been right.
Zev wasn't wearing the ring when he'd come back to her.
What did that mean?
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