Emery gently tore and ate her buns. She watched him as he devoured them like one who had been starved—perhaps he had. Perhaps they were not as well-off as her family, and she wondered if they had come to Velanthri in search of food.
"What's your… name?" she asked, and his eyes turned toward her—heated eyes with hellfire dancing within.
"Zekar," he replied. His accent was that of Druvkaur—dark and rough, sending goosebumps rising along her arms.
Emery nodded, resisting the urge to clear her throat; she knew he might notice it as a tell, for she had done it many times already. "Oh… nice name," she complimented, and he inclined his head in acknowledgment.
She noticed he had finished his buns yet still looked hungry. She herself had eaten barely one—five still remained on her plate. "Here," she said, moving the plate toward him. "I'm not really hungry."
Her beautiful voice warmed him from the inside, and he accepted the plate. Emery watched as he finished hers as well. Only when he sighed did she see that he finally looked full.
He turned toward her, and Emery's eyes widened at being caught staring. She cleared her throat.
"You… beautiful."
Emery's cheeks flushed a deep, beet-red. This man—she was certain he was quite unhinged! "T… Thank you…" she murmured, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.
"Mm," he hummed, his gaze fixed upon her while she stared down at her feet. He looked at the side of her face and felt an extraordinary pull toward the girl.
"You… age?"
"I'm thirteen years of age," she said, looking up at him—at his dark, glowing skin and those fire-lit eyes. "You?"
"Seventeen," he answered, and she merely nodded.
He raised a hand and ran it through her hair. Her breath caught, but she did not stop him.
"Teach… me," he said, biting his lip. "English…?"
"You want me to teach you English?" she asked, his fingers still weaving through her hair. He nodded.
"W-why?"
"For… you."
Emery's heart skipped a beat. It stilled, as though her very breath had paused at his touch and those words.
He did not even know her. He did not know if she might pull a knife and slash his throat—yet here he was, asking her, with those untamed eyes and that dangerous mouth.
"Y… you don't even know me," she told him, and he narrowed his eyes, his brows dipping into a V.
"Emery… name." He pointed at her with his free hand—the one not tangled in her hair.
Emery pursed her lips. "That's just my name. You don't know me. And you're not even from Velanthri. You're from another tribe."
Zekar's features softened, and he gave her a sudden, wolfish smile that stole her heart and handed it back.
"Can come here," he said—in one full sentence. It did not sound awkward, and Emery even giggled. He loved the sound of her giggle instantly.
His hand trailed from her hair to her cheek, and she froze.
Emery and Zekar held each other's gaze for some time before she abruptly stood, causing his fingers to fall from her face. She cleared her throat and picked up the two plates.
"I'm going inside," she said, taking subconscious steps back when she saw him rise to his full height.
"Mm. Sleep?" he asked, and she nodded.
"Yes. Going to sleep," she said, biting her lip and lowering her gaze—revealing her soft mass of white hair. When she lifted her head again, she found him staring at her as though he could see straight into her soul.
"You can come tomorrow," she said, waving her hand in a soft no to the space around them. "Don't come here. Go to the stream. I'll come there tomorrow."
When she saw that heart-stopping smile—and the glimpse of his double fangs—she turned and walked away, giving a final nod.
★
"Aen dra'khel! Sira lorin tah'veer? Niir aal dra?!"[1]The twins' mother smacked both of them on the heads as they returned to Druvkaur that early morning.
"Naal'mir dorin, mama! Sii'lai zorn Zekar kaarim dor'thal!"[2]Ryker pleaded defensively to his mother, who smacked him more than she did his twin brother.
"Vaath nal'tar dra'kei dor'thal?!"[3]
she yelled.
"Dra volin kei'shar nar'mir, ma'ra!"[4]
Ryker yelled back.
Their mother puffed out a breath and turned toward the disobedient, unruly twin.
"Zekar?! Taar dra'kin shaal avir? Niir'mar val drô'esh læhn, aal niir ûn'baba lorin dra'fiir! Ma'syr dra'karan emril dor'kael lor, aal dra'vaarn vaasir!"[5]
Zekar sighed and embraced his mother. They were in the sitting room of their modest duplex in Druvkaur.
"I'm sorry, Mama, but I do not regret going there, he said, pulling away as his mother's eyes narrowed." He said.
"Why not?" she asked in Drk, but Zekar only gestured for them to sit on a three-seater couch. Their mother seated herself between the twins.
"Niir vaalen shara'dra elyn." [6]He said, his eyes sparkling.
The twins' mother blinked, then looked at Ryker, who shrugged.
"She's kind?" she asked in Drk, and Ryker nodded.
"We stayed at her place last night. I think they're rich—they have a nice home," Ryker replied. The mother turned back to Zekar, who had practically drifted into daydreaming.
"I think he likes her," Ryker whispered. "He never stopped speaking about her. Ge—"
"Are you for real?" Their mother—who shared their dark Druvkaur skin, short brushed hair, and red eyes—asked. At this, they lowered their voices, as though afraid to wake Zekar from his daydream.
Ryker bobbed his head eagerly. "Yes! You should've seen the way he spoke about her! He looked like he was in love!"
"Who looked like he was in love?"
A gruff voice lifted all eyes—even the daydreamer, Zekar—toward the speaker himself.
[1] ENGLISH: You boys! I wonder who the parent is—me or you?!
[2] ENGLISH: You shouldn’t hit me, Mama! I kept yelling at Zekar to go home!
[3] ENGLISH: Why didn’t you drag him home?!
[4] ENGLISH: You know he wouldn’t listen to me, Mama!
[5] ENGLISH: Zekar?! Don’t you have anything to say? You scared me last night! Your baba and I thought something had happened to you both! We searched the whole place and could not find you! We were terrified!
[6] ENGLISH: I met a beautiful girl