“There are no aisles here. And my family isn’t around either.” We stared at each other for a few seconds. An unspoken understanding passed between us, the one he’d mentioned once before. Me and you, Sienna, me and you, we’re on our own. Torrent reached out and stroked my cheek. “Neither of us has family to witness our union . It’s a bunch of strangers looking to eat cake and drink booze, pretend like they care. But me and you? We gotta make shit happen, baby, we gotta make it. If we don’t take care of each other, nobody else will. I’m gonna do my part. Come on, beautiful, you can do this.” He opened the door.
The sanctuary appeared the same, a poorly lit, stuffy place, decorated with artifacts including mosaics and Arabic scriptures near the far wall. A framed Quran too. It creeped me out because half the cover was torn. People sat around the table in an otherwise empty space. In the background, music played. It was the only tech in the room, probably running on hydro fuel.
I hadn’t expected everyone to sit together. Tables had been brought in from somewhere and put together to make one long table covered with white cloth. Baby cactuses in bloom—the only plant growing down here—decorated the table. Hasel got her wish. Today, everyone would eat together.
Balloons littered the floor. I’d never seen a single one before. There were several hundred of them, most dark blue, but a few red and white ones made for a patriotic décor, I supposed. On each side of the entrance, two large lit candles on a tall stand infused some romance into the place. Not a bad setup in a day. Hasel had worked hard on this. I ought to at least pretend as if I wanted to be here.
The door behind us closed with a soft thud. I turned to see that one of the girls had closed the door and made her way back to the table. She sat down next to Momma Jo, who lifted her lemonade. Cheers. I smiled back at her. Thank you for coming, I wanted to say, but said nothing as everyone just sat there and stared at me. They expected me to do something. I smiled wider. They still stared. Maybe I looked like a deer struck with headlights.
Hasel and the hunters banged their metal jugs on the table. They chanted a song I’d heard once before. I didn’t know what it meant, but it must be for a happy occasion. Torrent nudged the small of my back with his palm. “Keep moving,” he whispered at my ear.
We crossed the room. At the table, I helped him sit down. When I grabbed the chair next to his, he wound a hand around my braid, pulled, and smacked my lips with his. “Thank you.”
Helping him sit down wasn’t any hardship. He’d get better at it as the days went by. When he released me, I sat next to him. “What’s the song about?”
“It’s about your womb.”
Go figure. “What about my womb?”
“May it take my seed, may it nourish many strong beasts.”
“Nice,” I said under my breath. “I hadn’t thought about kids. I’m not ready for kids.”
Torrent threw a hand over my shoulder. “Let’s just get through the party, hm?”
I chuckled. “Yeah.”
The food laid out in front of us steamed and smelled divine. The bread rolls Hasel had made looked great, as did the roasted chicken on the table. Even when I knew it was animal meat, I hadn’t eaten any meat at this community. I wasn’t gonna start now, though the roast made my mouth water.
Torrent forked up a piece of poultry and put it on my plate. He got potatoes and fresh salad as well as bread. By the time he finished piling my plate, I’d drunk a mug of ale. “I can’t eat all that,” I said.
“We can.” He took a baby baked potato between his claws and put it against my lips. “Open.”
The heat in his eyes said, Open and receive something wider than a potato. I pictured his monster cock, smiled, and bit. Got his fingers. Torrent winced. I chewed as if nothing happened. He examined the blunt tooth marks on his fingers. “You get to feed me next,” he said and peeled his upper lip to show me his not-blunt teeth. “I can’t wait.”
I made a sour face. Probably shouldn’t have bitten him. I picked up a fork.
He slapped my hand.
I slapped his right back.
“Use your fingers,” he ordered.
“We have forks.”
“No forks today.”
“You’ll bite me,” I said.
“You bet I will.”
“It’s either with a fork or you go hungry. Pick one.”
Torrent growled and slammed his lips on mine. His rough tongue demanded I open and give him everything. I clamped my teeth, and he retreated. “You are perfect for me,” he said.
“You are crazy.”
Someone cleared their throat. I followed the noise, realizing everyone watched our exchange. I opened my mouth to excuse myself, then frowned. “Where is Cole?”