Barbarian's Taming (Ice Planet Barbarians, #8)

by Ruby Dixon

But I suppose if things were truly like that, we never would have come together in the first place. Because Hassen would have gone on the hunts with the others, and I would have still felt like lonely, lost Maddie. Funny how the only time I don’t feel lost is when I’m with him.

I did not expect to be gutted by it. Even now, the ache of her absence gnaws at me.

I will do whatever Vektal asks as long as he gives her to me.

My heart has chosen wisely, even if my khui is silent.

We will survive and go on. Mah-dee has started her world over. Li-lah, as well. Each human female who found herself here in the snows of our planet, far from home, has started their worlds over. The sa-khui can do this, and be stronger for it.

“No, you do not understand.” I stop and put my hands on her shoulders, turning her toward me. This feels…important. It feels big. That she must listen to me. That I must spill to her how I feel. “You are my heart, Mah-dee. Without you, I am nothing. You saw me as an exile and still took me to your furs. You are kind and giving.”

“I would like a girl,” he tells me, pulling me from my dirty thoughts. “Because our tribe has had so few for so long. I would like others to experience the joy I am feeling at this moment.” He glances over at me. “And I would like for her to have your yellow mane.”

“She will have to learn a safe place to keep her lid, then. I do not intend on losing you.” I stifle my giggle at his response. I love his sweet words, especially when they’re mixed in with a complete lack of knowledge of human euphemisms.

I know Mah-dee worries that Li-lah will be against our mating, but such talk is foolishness. Resonance is resonance. Li-lah might as well be angry at the snow that floats down from overhead for all the good it will do.

“I just realized I sound like a demanding two-year-old.” Vektal nods crisply. “My daughter is less pushy than you, and she is spoiled.”

Vektal gives her an exasperated look and then turns to me. “Your first task will be to keep your pleasure-mate under control.” And now it is my turn to laugh. “No one controls Mah-dee. She does what she pleases.” “Damn skippy,” Mah-dee says, and then puts her possessive hand back on my knee.

“Hoisted on my own braggy petard,” I sigh. “Damn it.”

“My happy does not wait for later,” he tells me. “My happy is now. Here. With you. I need nothing else.”