The morning sun peeped through the openings of the stacked bamboos, reflecting on Ren’s face a little too brightly than it should have. He wanted to sleep more, his body heavy and aching in places he didn’t want to acknowledge, but his eyes were forced open before his brain could even process the message of ignoring the sun.

As he tried to shift, the rustle of the thin mattress reminded him exactly where he was. Cilian was already awake, sitting on the edge of the bed with his back to Ren.

The Alpha’s broad shoulders were pale in the morning light, but the sight of the jagged, angry wound—now sluggishly weeping onto his skin—killed any lingering drowsiness Ren had.

Ren sat up slowly, but paused as his eyes landed on the marks on his naked body. His face immediately heated up as his mind replayed the high, broken noises he’d made in the dark. He couldn’t bring himself to look at Cilian, so he fixed his gaze firmly on the bamboo floor.

"You’re awake," Cilian murmured, his voice low with that morning rasp as he turned his head to look at Ren.

Ren didn’t answer. His eyes searched for something else to do. Anything, and he found the pile of clean bandages the villagers had left. He decided it was about time to close up the wound before it began to fester.

He reached for the bandages, his hands still slightly trembling.

"Cilian, turn around so I can fix the dressing."

Cilian stayed silent at first and then pouted.

"Where’s my good morning kiss, Ren?" He asked, getting closer with his lips pouted and ready to kiss Ren, but Ren pushed his face back. "We just spent our first night as newlyweds, don’t be like that to your hubby."

Ren felt irked. Cilian was already back to that teasing and fox-like persona. It was infuriating.

"Stop acting like this is real. It’s not," he snapped at Cilian, but instead of Cilian getting mad, he chuckled and held Ren’s hand, bringing it to his lips as he said,

’Well, you know that saying. You gotta fake it until you make it," he kissed Ren’s hand, and Ren immediately took his hand back.

"Ugh, just stay quiet and let me bandage your wound."

"Yes, wifey."

He was still being so insufferable. Maybe Ren should just leave the wound to rot, he wondered.

Ren got clean water and rinsed the wound carefully before weaving the cloth over the torn skin.

He kept his head down, focusing entirely on the rhythm of the wrap, avoiding Cilian’s eyes even when the Alpha leaned back slightly, his scent of frost still clinging to the small space.

Ren tried not to think about anything else but the wound he was wrapping, but each time his knuckles brushed against Cilian’s warm chest, a gentle reminder flooded his mind about how this chest had been pressed against his so intimately.

And then when he saw the scratch marks left behind on his back and shoulder, he also recalled his frantic breath and trembling body.

This made his ear go red, and he pursed his lips.

Let’s just get this over with. He thought.

"You’re remarkably gentle this morning, Ren," Cilian murmured. His scent was fainter now, mellowed by the humidity, but it still made Ren’s pulse skip a traitorous beat. "Is this the ’afterglow’ I’ve heard so much about?"

"It’s called basic hygiene," Ren snapped, though his voice lacked its usual bite. He pulled the bandage tight, perhaps a bit tighter than necessary, making Cilian let out a sharp, amused hiss of pain. "There. Try not to rip it open again by being a martyr."

Cilian just laughed softly, the sound vibrating through the small space. He reached for the light, the woven tunics the villagers had left for them.

"How do you feel?" Cilian asked, and Ren paused, the talk of getting pregnant being the first thing to flash through his mind. "Are you sore down there?" But that was, of course, not what Cilian had been asking about.

He let out a slow, shallow breath, disappointed in himself for even letting that thought cross his mind.

"It’s fine," he said. ’I’m walking just fine, as you can see."

"Aw, chucks! I’d have really loved to get you in a wheelchair," he grinned, and Ren’s shoulders trembled in rage, his face contorted in all angles as he nearly ripped the fabric in his hand.

This son of a bitch!

But he let his fury die in his chest, knowing this was just going to get Cilian chuckling in that amused delight again.

Ren dressed quickly, but as soon as he pulled the fabric over his head, he realized the problem. The collar was wide and loose, falling away from his neck to reveal a map of dark, blossoming marks that draped down toward his collarbone.

He looked like he’d been branded.

Oh God! He couldn’t go out like this. What would the locals think of him?

Ah, but then, what was their motive when they gave such clothes to newlyweds after telling them to enjoy their honeymoon night here?

Why don’t I have a good feeling about this?

Then came a knock on the front door.

Thump. Thump.

"Great travelers?" a voice called from outside, sounding way too cheerful. "The sun is high. We have brought the morning meal for the bride and his protector."

Ren’s heart hammered against his ribs. He looked at the door, then at Cilian, who was already standing up with that insufferable, fox-like grace. Before Ren could even think to hide the marks on his neck, the door creaked open.

A small group of elders and married Omegas stood there, their arms laden with wooden trays of roasted tubers, fresh fruit, and coconut milk. And surely, their eyes didn’t miss a thing.

The village elder’s gaze drifted immediately to Ren’s exposed collarbone, his smile widening into something wise and deeply knowing.

"In our village," the elder began, his voice melodic, "when a new union is formed, we offer the Blessing of the Tide. It is a tradition to ensure your roots grow deep and your future is fruitful. Would you like to partake in this tradition? It will ensure that your marital life will be very long and fruitful."

Ren opened his mouth to refuse, his face already beginning to burn at the long and fruitful vows he hadn’t even made yet.

"We really just need to find a way to—"

"We would be honored," Cilian interrupted, stepping up behind Ren. He rested his left hand heavily on Ren’s hip, his thumb tracing a slow, possessive circle over the fabric. "A blessing for our union is exactly what we need, don’t you think, darling?"