“Yeah. That’s what I mean.”
They sat in silence, the water lapping beneath them, as he thought about what she’d said. A symbol of commitment, of forever. The Cire didn’t need symbols—the mate bond was undeniable—but his mate wasn’t Cire. Did she know with bone-deep certainty that he’d claimed her? That he’d never leave her? That he would die for her?
She knew he loved her, but did she know it was permanent and irrevocable? That he’d bound himself to her in every way that mattered?
“What else?” he asked abruptly. “What else do humans do when they marry?”
“Why?” She gave him a speculative look. “Do you want to marry Corinne?”
“I want to make my commitment to her clear,” he said carefully. “I want her to know that this is forever. That I am hers. That?—”
“That you’re not going anywhere. Yeah, you should totally marry her.”
Anya grinned at him and he had the sudden suspicion that she’d brought up the subject on purpose. But perhaps the act represented security for her as well.
“I would be delighted to marry her, but I do not know exactly what that means. I do not know your customs or what is expected.”
She nodded and stood, brushing off her shorts. “Okay. Come on. We’re going to talk to Maeva.”
“Why?”
“Jarrek said she officiates over the bonding ceremonies here, which is about as close to marriage as we’re going to get.” She was already moving, quick and determined. “I’ll tell her what I can remember about weddings and she can fill in the rest.”
Abandoning the net, he followed her, curiosity and something deeper—something urgent—driving him forward.
They found Maeva in her garden, tending the sprawling vegetable plot that fed half the neighborhood. She looked up as they approached, her amphibian features crinkling in a smile.
“Anya! Selik! What brings you?”
“Selik wants to marry Corinne,” Anya announced. “It’s like a human bonding ceremony, but we’re not really sure what we need to do.”
Maeva’s smile widened. “Oh, how wonderful. How absolutely wonderful.”
“I want to honor her customs,” he said, feeling awkward. “I want her to know I am committed to her. That this is?—”
“That this is permanent,” Maeva finished.
“Yes.” Relief flooded him. “Exactly.”
Maeva set down her tools, brushing dirt from her webbed hands. “Bonding ceremonies can be simple or elaborate, but the core is always the same—a declaration of your vows in front of witnesses.”
“Vows?” he asked.
“Promises,” Anya said. “I remember that part. You promise to love her and cherish her, for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health.”
“Of course. I already do those things,” he said, confused.
“But you officially say it out loud,” Maeva explained. “In front of other people, to make it public.”
To make it public. Something in him clicked into place. Yes. That was what he wanted. Not just to know Corinne was his, but for her to know. For everyone to know.
“How do I arrange this?” he asked.
Maeva and Anya exchanged a look, something bright and conspiratorial passing between them, and Maeva grinned at him.
“Leave it to us.”
Three days later,Selik stood on his boat at sunset, trying not to fidget.
