Dylan smith's Arc

Chapter 11 of 12

Dylan stood at the foot of the stage with the three pendants still on their necks. None of them moved. The arch behind him stayed open. Belinda set her bottle down on the post. Bella stepped out from her tent flap. Scarlett brushed crumbs off her lap and stood. They walked toward him at the same time, and he understood they were not leaving yet. They closed in around him in a loose ring. Belinda rubbed a slow circle on her green belly and let out a low burp without breaking eye contact. Bella pressed both hands under her belly and gave him a shorter one, quick and clean. Scarlett patted her own belly twice and burped last, deeper than either. Belinda spoke first. "You picked me for a year. Don't take it back." Bella said, "I came here for you. I'm staying." Scarlett held up the gold trophy she had carried from her tent, the loud-burp award with its cartoon face. "I brought this for you. Keep me instead." Dylan looked at the trophy, then at the three bellies, then at the three faces. He felt the pull he had carried since Earth, sharper now because it was offered three ways at once. He took a slow breath the way he did before checking pressure on a tire. He did not reach for any of them. "Put your hands down," he said. "I'm not changing my mind." Belinda's mouth tightened. Scarlett lowered the trophy an inch. Bella did not move. He kept his voice flat. "I love her. I picked her in the cabin before any of you came. I should have said it then instead of running auditions. That was on me." He looked at each of them in turn. "You don't deserve a man who lines you up at posts. You deserve one who shows up the first day and says your name like he means it. That's not me for you. I'm sorry I let it go this far." Scarlett set the trophy down on the bottom step of the stage. She did not push it toward him. "Then I keep this," she said. "Fine," Belinda said. She picked up her bottle. Bella nodded once and turned back toward her tent to gather her things. They left through the arch one at a time, pendants still on, before the sun cleared the trees. Dylan stayed by the stage until the last tent flap stopped moving in the wind. Then he walked back through the forest to the black stone castle. Voracia was on the terrace with her boot on the basket. She looked at his empty hands and his collar, and she did not ask. He sat across from her and put both hands on the table. "It's done," he said. She slid a plate toward him.