Mia inhaled, her eyes filling with moisture. “Oh Korum . . .” Her slender fingers twitched in his grasp. “Korum, I don’t even know what to say –”
“You don’t have to say anything,” he interrupted, ignoring the pain of her inadvertent rejection. “I know I’m still a stranger to you. I don’t expect you to feel the same way about me now as you did before. Not yet, at least . . .”
She nodded, and a single tear rolled down her face. “I hate this,” she confessed, her voice breaking for a second. “I hate that such a big part of my life disappeared, that I lost everything that brought us to this point. I need you, but I don’t know you, and it’s driving me crazy. I loved you too, didn’t I? Even though all that stuff happened between us, we were still in love, right?”
“Yes,” Korum said, his hand tightening around her palm. “Yes, we were very much in love, my darling.” And unable to resist any longer, he gently wrapped one arm around her back, bringing her closer to him. She buried her face against his shoulder, and he could feel the wetness from her tears on his bare skin. The sweet scent of her hair teased his nostrils, her nearness making his cock harden again.
Don’t be such an animal. She needs comfort now, Korum told himself. And ignoring the lust raging through his body, he let Mia cry, knowing she needed this emotional release.
After a minute, she pulled away, looking up at him through tear-spiked lashes. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, “I didn’t mean to cry all over you . . .”
Korum smiled, wiping away the wetness on her cheeks with his knuckles. “You can cry all over me any time you want.” Her tears were as precious to him as her smiles. He hated to see her sad, but liked the feel of her slender body in his arms, enjoyed being the one to soothe her, to make her pain go away.
Even if, more often than not, he had been the cause of that pain.
* * *
They spent the rest of the day together on the beach, with Korum patiently explaining everything Mia had once known and forgotten about the Krinar. He told her about blood addiction and xenos, the Celebration of Forty-Seven and the importance of ‘standing’ in Krinar society. She listened attentively, asking questions, and Korum gladly answered them, knowing how much she needed to catch up on.
“So do you have the concept of money? How does your economy work?” Her eyes were bright and curious as they continued their discussion over dinner.
“Yes, we definitely have the concept of money.” Korum paused to take a bite of his peanut-flavored soba noodles. “We work and get paid for the contributions we make to our society. The greater the contribution, the greater the pay, regardless of the field. However, wealth is not as important to us as it is to humans. Our economy is neither purely capitalist nor government-run; it’s kind of a blend of the two. For the most part, everyone has their basic needs met. There’s no such thing as homelessness or hunger on Krina. Even the laziest Krinar lives quite well by human standards. But, to have anything beyond food, shelter, and daily necessities, you have to do something productive with your life – you have to contribute to society in some way.”
She was looking very interested, so Korum continued his explanation. “Financial rewards are only a part of the reason why people work, though. The main motivation is the need to be respected, to be recognized for our achievements. Few Krinar want to go through life having others look down upon them. You see, for us, having a low standing is almost like being an outcast. Someone who’s never done anything useful in his life will ultimately find himself treated with contempt by others. Having a high standing is much more important than being wealthy – although the two usually go hand-in-hand.”
“So wealthy Krinar have a high standing, and vice versa?” Mia asked.
“No, not necessarily. One could be wealthy through inheritance or family, but that doesn’t mean that person will have a high standing. Rafor, Loris’s son, is a prime example of that. His father gave him all the wealth he could possibly need, but he couldn’t give him a good standing. That can only be earned – or lost – through one’s own efforts.”
Mia looked puzzled. “Wait, how do you lose standing through your own efforts?”
“There are a number of ways,” Korum said. “Committing a crime is an obvious one. So is doing something dishonorable, like cheating on your mate. It’s also possible to lose standing by failing at something important. For instance, Loris took that risk by assuming the role of the Protector for his son and the Keiths. Once they are judged guilty, his standing will be much lower and he’ll no longer be on the Council. That’s why he challenged me to the Arena today – because he has very little to lose at this point.”
Her eyes widened with surprise. “What do you mean, he challenged you?”
Korum hesitated. Perhaps he shouldn’t have mentioned it to Mia just yet, but it was too late now. “Remember I told you about the Arena earlier today?” he asked.
“You said it was a way to resolve irreconcilable differences . . .” A small frown appeared on her face.
“Yes,” Korum confirmed, “it is. And that’s what Loris and I have: an irreconcilable difference of opinion. I think his son is a traitorous lowlife, and he disagrees.”
“So he challenged you to a fight? But I thought you said those were dangerous –”
“They are.” Korum smiled in anticipation, familiar excitement zinging through his veins. He needed this sometimes: the danger, the adrenaline, the raw physical challenge of subduing an opponent. As much as he enjoyed fighting during defrebs matches, he was always aware that it was just a game, that everyone would walk away with nothing more than a few scrapes and bruises. There was no such guarantee in the Arena, which is what made it so thrilling.
“So you could be killed?” Mia’s eyes were beginning to glisten with moisture, and Korum realized that she found the idea more than a little disturbing. He definitely shouldn’t have brought this up yet.
“There is a small chance,” he said carefully, not wanting to upset her further. “Although killing is technically illegal, it’s usually forgiven if it happens in the heat of an Arena battle. But you don’t need to worry, my sweet. I can take care of myself.”
She didn’t seem convinced. “You said he hates you.” Her voice quivered a little. “Wouldn’t he try to kill you?”
“He can certainly try,” Korum said, “but I’m not going to let him. You have nothing to worry about –”
“He’s not a good fighter?”
“He is,” Korum admitted. “Or at least he used to be. I don’t know his skill level these days.”
“Don’t do it,” she said, reaching over to grab his hand. “Please, Korum, don’t do this fight –”