Mari's Mistake (Icehome, #10)

by Ruby Dixon

I'm also not prepared for him to pause and stare at the dark triangle of curls between my thighs. He stops his work completely and I can feel my face heating in a blush. I steal another glance at his enormous equipment, and yeah, he's hairless, his private area as bare as any porn star, and his rather large sac a fascinatingly deep shade of blue. His cock's also swelling, his khui humming urgently, and there's that odd spur thing on top that someone mentioned. "That's an awful lot to take in," I tell him as our eyes meet. "And that's not me making a pun on your size. Though I probably should, because you are an awful lot." He rumbles something, his long hair sliding over one shoulder, and then reaches between my legs and gently pets my mound, his fingers stroking lightly. I suck in a breath, shocked at his bold touch…but I don't pull away. "Um…so you just did that. And I should really tell you no." But my cootie is going a mile a minute. "I know we're media naranjas as my mother would say—two halves of a whole—but can we get to know each other first?" I tap my chest. "My name is Marisol. Me llamo Marisol." I tap again, because that might be too many words for him. "Marisol." He reaches down and strokes my pussy again. "M'rsl?" "No, that's not Marisol. I am." A horrified little giggle escapes my throat. "Please, please don't call my pussy Marisol." I tap my chest. "Marisol." I point downstairs. "Pussy. Or concha if you're feeling so inclined, but let's stick to one language...

"I said too soon," I emphasize again, and get to my feet. The hut no longer feels comfortingly small but too small and stifling. I pick up the trashed remnants of my tunic and wrap it around my front, then head for the entrance to the hut and peek out. The other three alien men immediately turn at the sound of the door covering rustling, open curiosity on their faces. I shrink back inside, letting the hanging hide me again, and press my back against the cool stonework of the hut's walls. What, are they watching because they want their turn? Do they think this is a gang-bang situation? It's not lost on me that there's a cluster of huts but only four people here—zero of whom are women. I glance over at T'chai, who continues to watch me with an inscrutable expression. "Where's Lauren?" I ask again. "What did you do with her?"

"You were not in the hut for long." S'bren glances over at us. "Are you taking her away? For mating?" I know my clansmates are curious, but the nosy questions irk me. My cock is rigid from the constant thrum of my khui, so it should be obvious that we have not mated yet. Even if we have not, what does it matter? It is between her and I, and she is frightened and uneasy. Why would I force her to the ground and mate her when she is not eager for my touch yet? There is plenty of time in the day. Perhaps her people only mate by night, or by the light of the full moon. I do not know and I cannot ask, and yet…it is not their business. It is mine. It is M'rsl's. It is not M'tok's or S'bren's or R'jaal's. I understand that they wish to know—the fate of our clan's continued existence lies in our hands—but surely they can give us more than a brief moment in a hut before we are on each other like slavering sky-claw. I give them a dismissive look and turn to my mate. "We are going fishing. M'rsl ate what I caught but it is not enough."

T'chai moves in the water, stabbing hard. I jump to my feet as he surges forward and makes a sound of success. "Did you get something?" I call, wiping sand off my ass. (Literally. Sand is absolutely everywhere.) He holds up his spear in triumph, and it's another fish, no bigger than my hand. It might even be smaller than the one I had earlier. He bounds back to shore with his catch—if you can call it that—and says something excited to me. As he does, I can't help but notice that T'chai's incredibly lean. He's gorgeous, his shoulders broad, but I notice when he moves that I can see all of his ribs. That's…concerning. The waters are empty, except for this one lone, dumbass fish. Then again, of course they are. My cousin had a saltwater aquarium, and I remember it got too warm one day because she lost power in the summer. The tank got a few degrees too hot and all the fish went belly up. My stomach clenches nervously and I look at the plume of smoke on the horizon. Heat. The water’s heating…and smoke on the horizon. “Oh boy," I whisper. "Ohhhh boy." "Nih?" T'chai asks me, cutting the head off of the tiny fish and slicing it open. "M'rsl nih?" He gestures at his mouth, indicating eating. Do I want to eat? No. Right now? I very much want to hide. This island is tropical, but aren’t most tropical islands built from volcanic activity? Something tells me that we are in a lot of danger.

I want her with such ferocious hunger that it steals my breath away. I consider our surroundings—too close to the jungle. First and foremost, I must keep my mate safe. I glance back at the nearby beach, but we will be open for anyone to look at, and my clansmates are far too curious about my M'rsl right now. I do not want to take her in front of their prying eyes. Our first time—my first time—should be in private. So I grab M'rsl's hand and lead her away from the trees, heading back toward the huts that my clan brothers and I have claimed ever since the death of the Great Smoking Mountain. My hut is private, and no one will bother us there…I hope.

She sucks in a sharp breath, her hands moving over me. I hold still, fascinated by her softness. My mate is small against me, her head barely reaching my pectorals, but she feels perfect in my arms. Her hands move up and down on my skin, tracing muscles, and she clucks under her tongue when she feels my ribs. I burn with shame at that. I know I am lean—we all are. Food is increasingly hard to come by. I hope she does not hate the sight of my body. She looks up at me, her eyes hot, and scrapes the tips of her teats against my chest deliberately. I groan and nearly lose control. That is it. Time to claim my mate and fulfill resonance. I get on my knees and pull M'rsl down with me. She follows, but when I push her onto her back, a little furrow of concern crosses her face. I rub my knuckles against her cheek to comfort her. "It is my first time as well," I say. "It will be good. I hope." She smiles at me, leaning into my touch. I push her thighs apart and my cock is so stiff and aching I feel as if I will burst if I do not get inside her soon. "T'chai—" I push the head of my cock against her folds, groaning at how good it feels. Now to just sink inside her— M'rsl puts a hand against my chest and pushes hard. "No."

lift my head and study his expression, waiting.

This time, T'chai takes control of the kiss. It's not flirty and light like when I use my tongue. T'chai's kiss is a conquering stabbing of his tongue, artless and enthusiastic, and I try to gentle him and steer him with whimpers and flicks of my tongue, to show him what I like. It takes a little time, but when he slicks his tongue deep into my mouth, it hits me just right and I whimper at how good it feels. His demanding thrusts turn gentler, just as deep and conquering but not nearly as invasive, and by the time we break, panting, I'm practically wriggling in his lap with arousal.

T’chai groans, his startled gaze moving to mine. “Ltk.” “Yup,” I whisper. I’m really wet, and when he glides his fingers up and down my sex, he drags that slickness with him. I moan and rock against his hand. I need to show him my clit, to introduce him to my most sensitive spot, but then he’s pushing one thick finger inside me, his intense gaze on my face, and I gasp, clinging to his shoulders. That should not feel as good as it does, madre de dios. He breathes my name again, the sound husky and sensual on his lips even as he thrusts into me with his finger. I whimper, my body making a wet sound as he works me with his hand, his gaze locked on my face. This is the hottest, sexiest thing I’ve ever experienced— My khui shivers, shaking my entire body. Or at least, it feels like it does. But then T’chai looks up at the ceiling and I realize the dried leaves that cover the hut’s roof are rustling too. It’s not just me that’s shaking.

M’rsl moans, locking her legs around my hips. Her heels dig into my behind, urging me forward. I notch my cock at her entrance, watching her face for uncertainty, but all I see is hunger. Slowly, I push into her, the breath hissing from between my teeth at how good she feels. It seems to take an eternity before I am seated into her body, my sac pressing up against her skin, and she shivers and squirms under me. I pump into her, moving slowly, and when her little gasps do nothing but encourage me to move faster, I keep going. Over and over, I rock into her, until our bodies are shoving across the leaves and she clings to me as if she will never let me go. I come quickly, my seed boiling forth and spilling despite my efforts to make our mating last longer. It is too much, too quick, and I hear M’rsl’s little whimper of disappointment as I collapse on top of her. “I am sorry,” I gasp, pressing my mouth to her soft skin. “Next time it will be better.”

So that…wasn't great. Don't get me wrong. It was good…it just wasn't great. T'chai gets points for enthusiasm, but loses them for all the spots he missed out on, and not making me come. Still, it's his first time, and I'm feeling soft and lenient as he lies atop me and murmurs soft things. We have all night to make things better, and I intend on showing him what I need. It's not a problem. So I stroke his thick, fascinating hair and touch his blue skin and marvel at how he feels deep inside me. His spur brushes up against sensitive parts, teasing close to my clit, but it's not at quite the right angle to make me come. When T'chai recovers from his orgasm, he props up on his arms and gives me a rueful look. "It's okay," I tell him with a faint smile. "Everyone's first time sucks, just a little. Next time will be magic." He touches my cheek,

So I tap his chest, hoping that my question comes through. "We're still resonating, querido." I rub the spot where I can feel his khui vibrating through his skin. "Is that bad?" He shrugs and leans down to nuzzle at my neck. Okay, I'll take that. I smile, wrapping my arms around his shoulders. "I guess we're not done, then?" T'chai says something under his breath, and his hand skims down my hip. I close my eyes and enjoy his petting. It’s nice to be touched. After living in terror and feeling alone, being in his arms helps. I don’t feel so very…stranded and afraid. I feel like I have a friend now. A partner. Someone to face the world with me. It’s unreal how incredible it feels.

Her expression changes to a wary one. “I know. K’thar’s people live in a big tree home, but it’s nearly empty.” Oh god. That means bad things have happened, and judging from the earthquakes, I don’t think it’s a bad guess to assume that they’re going to happen again. I grab her hands. “Lauren, we have to get out of here. Do you know what this island is?” “A volcano caldera,” she tells me, nodding. “And we’re right on the edge of what’s left.” “It’s not dormant, though. It can’t be. There are parts of it that are still smoking. And the ground shakes every day. It’s like this thing is just waiting to explode again and go all Krakatoa on us.” “Kraka-what?” “Do you remember your history? Krakatoa was a volcano that was so big that when it exploded back in the nineteenth century it could be heard from thousands of miles away.” I squeeze her hands tightly. “And it took the entire island and all its inhabitants out with it.” Lauren pales. “Oh. That’s really, really not good.”

At first, I don’t know what’s happening. It gets dark for just a flash, and then suddenly I’m on the ground, with T’chai’s big body covering mine. I spit out sand, stunned and breathless, and then his big arms push me down when I try to sit up. It takes a moment for me to realize that he’s camouflaged, his color the exact same shade as the sand on the ground, and when he covers my arms, it’s dizzying to watch my skin “disappear.” Why is he camouflaging? Why did he tackle me? Why— A monster screams nearby. It’s like something out of a horror movie. The roar is impossibly loud and terrifying, and like any good idiotic horror movie heroine, I scream the moment I hear it. T’chai presses me down into the sand, and he whispers my name in my ear. His fingers lightly stroke my skin even as he pins me underneath him, his big body so heavy that it steals the breath from my lungs. His head presses down against mine, and I bite back a small whimper of distress, because I don’t entirely understand what’s happening. Then, the monster screams again, and an enormous body thumps onto the ground nearby, spraying sand all over us.

I just want it to go away. The creature that stands not twenty feet from us looks like an oversized pterosaur, with a long, nasty beak full of jagged-looking teeth, and beady eyes that shine khui blue. It folds up mottled brown wings and hunches over, nosing at the sand as it waddles forward. It has to be bigger than an elephant, this creature, and as I watch it move forward a step or two, I notice that S’bren is on the ground nearby, camouflaged, and far too close to the creature. Oh god. It noses at the sand, spraying it along the beach with a vicious twist of its head, and I choke back another scream of terror. The thing looks over at me. It hunches its shoulders, as if it’s about to spring into action— Something sand-colored bellows and jumps on its neck. I gasp, seeing four arms—and four knives—flailing and realize that Lauren’s alien is the one attacking it. S’bren springs up from the sand, too, surging forward to attack the monstrous bird. “M’rsl,” T’chai says, and then he’s dragging me to my feet. He takes me by the hand and hauls me up, gesturing at the huts, a short distance away from the beach. I hesitate, because Lauren needs to come with us, and T’chai gives me another impatient tug. “But Lauren,” I murmur, gesturing at my friend.

Horrified, I watch as T’chai struggles to get up, and the thing lands on his back. Huge, black claws dig into his skin, and then bright crimson blood streaks across his camouflage. He groans, twisting, trying to get out from under the feet that have him pinned. It just makes it worse, though. As another scream rips from my throat, I watch as the thing flips T’chai over onto his belly and tears him open. All the while, I stand there, screaming like a helpless idiot. “Shoo!” Lauren’s suddenly at my side, and she flings a handful of sand at the creature tearing my mate apart. Right. I can do more than just scream. I have to. I can’t just watch it destroy T’chai. I grab a handful of sand, too, and fling it as hard as I can. “Go away!” I choke. The thing turns away from my mate that it’s shredding and hisses at us, snapping its awful jaws. I grab another sandy handful, sobbing, and Lauren grabs me and hauls me backward. “Run, Mari! To the trees!” I try to ignore her pulling at me, because I need to help T’chai. I can’t leave him there. There’s so much blood, and he’s not moving. He doesn’t even get up when K’thar and R’jaal both jump onto the creature and it staggers a few feet away. “We’ll be safe there,” Lauren cries, yanking on my arm as she points at the trees behind us. Is she fucking crazy? “I’m not leaving T’chai!” I surge forward even as K’thar stabs the monster-bird in the eye with one of his knives. It looks busy, and that means I can get to my mate.

I pass the dead corpse of one of the creatures, and one of the aliens is limping nearby, but my thoughts are only for my mate, who lies so still in the sands. “T’chai!” I cry his name again, falling to my knees next to him. “Talk to me!” My mate twitches and tries to prop himself up on his arms. He’s still face down in the sands, and there’s so much blood that it worries me. I brush his hair back from his face and my cootie starts up. Now, of all times. It’s idiotic, but I’m thrilled when I hear his thrum in response. It means he’s not dead. “M’rsl,” he grits out, opening his eyes to look at me. He’s beautiful in that moment, and I smile at him, fighting back another sob. “Hi,” I whisper. “Are you okay?” His arm presses to his abdomen, and then he tries to roll onto his side. As he does, something wet slides from his belly…and I realize it’s his intestines. “Oh no,” I moan. “Oh, no no no.” He’s trying to hold them into his body…and failing. Sand is getting everywhere on his wounds, and there’s so much blood. He twitches, clearly trying to get up, and blood bubbles from his mouth. “M’rsl,” he murmurs again, and lets go of his gut wound to reach for my face. He’s trying to comfort me while his guts are spilling out onto the beach. My heart hurts, even as my cootie purrs and purrs. A strange sense of calm washes over me, powered by shame. I’ve wailed and wept like La Llorona through this entire crisis, and T’chai’s falling apart in front of me…and his only thought is to comfo...

“Everything’s going to be okay,” I lie. “You’re going to be just fine.” It’s not like he can understand me anyhow. Lauren appears, and I can tell from the tension on her face that T’chai looks like a dying man. Of course he does. R’jaal held his guts earlier and carefully eased them back into place in his abdomen after I washed the sand off of them. Who lives through that? But Lauren mumbles something about how the other tribe—the one of four armed aliens—is going to come and help out because of the injuries here. Her mate went to go get them. That’s nice, I guess. I find I don’t care about anything other than T’chai.

Somehow, a week passes and he doesn’t die. I feel hollow and thin, strung out and helpless. My cootie’s stopped humming to his for long stretches of time, and when it does, it no longer feels good. Now, when it hums, it makes me ache all over. It makes me feel like a rubber band that’s been pulled too tight for too long, and I’m waiting to snap in half. I know it’s bothering him, too, because sometimes when his khui begins to resonate, he grimaces, even when unconscious. If he had enough energy to get hard, I’d ride him until he got me pregnant, just so the resonance could stop torturing us both. But he needs every bit of energy just to survive. Because…he’s not getting better. He’s not dying, but there’s still something terribly wrong. His wounds have crusted over and are red around the edges, and his veins are dark as even his blood is polluted. His face grows thinner and more emaciated, and his ribs are so prominent that I count them all at night when I can’t sleep. It hurts me to look at him…and it hurts me to look away. I sleep at his side, my fingers laced with his, listening as his breathing rasps shallowly and he struggles to make his lungs work.

I see snow-capped, jagged mountains. I see the lights of fires. I see people at those fires. R’jaal looks over at S’bren and M’tok, and there’s a hint of wonder in his voice as he speaks. I don’t know what he says, but my brain imagines it as something like “We’re saved.” Except…this is no better for T’chai, because there are no doctors. He’s going to die on a cold shore instead of a hot one, now.

I don’t know if I can relax, so I think about T’chai. I think about the smile he made when we first resonated, as if he’d been given the world’s greatest gift. I think about him grimacing as he ate the fish head, the rueful expression on his face. I think about how he looked when we first kissed. His sleepy expression when he was feeling relaxed and drowsy. His proud stance as he fished, his tail utterly still, back straight…and those two fascinating dimples that showed up just above his backside when he did. I think of the beautiful sound of his laugh. Of the tender expression on his face as he changed camouflage colors to match my skin. I think of the way he looked at me as we made love. I think of the determined, resigned expression on his face as the sky-claw attacked him. He didn’t expect to live. He wanted to give his life to keep mine safe. I can turn off resonance for that man. So I remain calm and float in the darkness, waiting to feel it. Waiting to feel…something. Some sort of tearing, or a feeling of loss. “I think that’s it.” Veronica’s voice sounds as if it comes from very far away. I slowly open my eyes, and as I do, I notice the room is quiet. My fingers tingle with blood flow, but I no longer ache all over. I don’t have that awful, nervous edge eating at me.

I rub my chest as she puts her hands on T’chai’s sunken chest. His scars are livid against his blue skin, Frankenstein slashes that show just how badly R’jaal and I stitched him up. It’s amazing he’s lived for so long. T’chai’s hand twitches on the furs, and I reach for it out of habit. The moment I do, I feel…strange. His touch doesn’t feel dear to me; it’s off-putting. I notice the irritating rasp of calluses and how he’s too warm. His scent bothers me. In fact, all of it bothers me. Which is odd. It’s kind of like touching velvet the wrong way. It’s not bad, just…unpleasant. I want to put down his hand, but I don’t. I watch as Veronica’s face tightens and T’chai’s khui gives a dramatic, hard sound, almost as if in protest. It’s an upsetting sound, or at least, I think it should be. But I just feel very detached from it, and when it goes quiet, I feel relieved. It’ll all be worth it, I tell myself, if he lives. If T’chai lives, he can heal up and we can start over. The important thing is that he lives. Nothing else matters.

S'bren has never been one to understand subtle cues, though. He continues on, a helpful expression on his face. "Oh, I have a new move that makes P'nee wild. I growl against her clit and it makes her thrash like a fish caught in a net. I have never seen anything like it before. You should try it." He straightens, all proud male, and points a finger at me, enunciating his words. "Like a fish. In. A. Net." "Her what?" "Her clit?" He gestures between his thighs. "The little bud on her cunt?" When I frown in his direction, he gets an astonished look on his face. "You have not played with her clit? I think I am starting to see why M'rsl is so unhappy—" I give him a light shove. "Get out of here. Go give your advice to your brother. He was yelling at his mate earlier." "She was yelling at him. And then they made up very, very loudly," S'bren adds, completely unaware of my foul mood. "It is a thing they do. M'tok is M'tok, and C'lie gets mad, and then the next thing I know, they are mating so loud they are shaking my hut next door." I run a hand over my face. Must every word out of S'bren's mouth be about mating? "Go and join your mate, brother. Your advice has been very helpful."

"My khui knows you have my heart." "Mine doesn't," she whispers. "Then we will convince them ourselves. If they sang for us once, they will sing for us again." I am certain we can coax them again, given time. She just needs to trust me, to trust my khui. "We just need to try." I touch her cheeks, so cold due to the chilly breeze. "Come to my furs tonight?" She hesitates, and then nods, giving me a smile. "Tonight." * * * MARI God, I really want to talk to someone. More than anything, I want to talk to T'chai—my other half—but this is the one topic we can't ever seem to agree on. Someone other than T'chai. After we finish our walk on the beach, I take my time heading back to the Ravenclaw cave, as Callie calls it. Working on cleaning the scavenged parts free of salt and grit usually helps me focus. It's a mindless stream of never-ending work, but I actually enjoy it because it lets me think about other things. Most days, Callie joins me, but I know today she's going to be watching the beach games. All of the tribe's going to be there, I think, and I'm not entirely surprised when I see Mardok has turned the lights off in the cave and put his tools away. No doubt they're going to watch the games, too. I guess that means I should go, too, but something inside me is reluctant to do so. Maybe it's the fact that I don't feel like we belong, T'chai and I. We're “flawed” and I feel like we no longer fit in with the group. They all stare at us when we get together. One on one, I thi...

"Whatever happens, I'm still grateful for that. Maybe just…can we cuddle tonight instead of having sex? We're still mates, even if my cootie hasn't gotten the memo yet." I try to give him a bright smile, but to my horror, I start to cry. The look on his face is sheer devastation. "Do not cry, my mate." He pulls me close and then hesitates, as if he's not sure if he should touch me. I fling my arms around him, burrowing against his neck, because I want to be held, even if my cootie doesn't want it. "Please do not cry," he murmurs again. "It hurts me when you do." It seems like all we do lately is hurt each other.

reassure him. "An affectionate one. Now give me your jaw." He looks a bit mulish but does as I say, letting me carefully clean the grit out of the cuts with a bit of softened leather. Gail hands me a bowl of steaming water sprinkled with cleansing herbs, and

wanted

much as he fought with me." "Oh, everyone's getting punished," Liz declares angrily, and then the baby at her breast begins to cry. "Oh, goddamn it." Raahosh takes his mate by the shoulders before she can stomp off, and then cups her chin. "Calm yourself, my mate. I will make sure everything is taken care of." Liz's jaw clenches, but she nods, letting out a deep breath. "You know how I feel." "I do." He caresses the hard set of her jaw with his thumb, smiling faintly at her, and I'm filled with envy at their easy relationship. Why can't it be that easy between me and T'chai? Why can't I be the one with a baby at my breast?

to me.” "You will be punished as well. And Tee-ah, too," Raahosh says. “Is she his?” T’chai asks. “I’rec’s mate?” “No. She has been mouth-mating with several of the unmated males. It is no wonder they are all upset. Both O’jek and Sessah have been by to ask about her.” Gail clucks under her tongue. "Kissing half the camp is bad news, but she's just a young, hormonal girl around a bunch of attractive men. What do y'all expect? She'll grow out of it." "Then perhaps it is best that she not be around the males until she does." Raahosh crosses his arms. "I have spoken with my mate and with the other hunters from Croatoan, and we feel she might be better off at the village, where there are no males to be bothered. It solves all the problems." Tia will haaate that, but it might be the right thing to do. "How are you going to get her to them," I ask. "I thought we couldn't go to the village until the brutal season is over? Bek and Elly said it's too hard to walk." I know, because I've asked. There's a healer at Croatoan, and while I'm not keen on healers right now, I've given it a thought a time or four. "Ash-tar says he will brave a flight if it is important. I believe this is important." Raahosh has a stubborn look on his face.

"Is it more than my cheek? Are you upset for T'ia?" I shake my head and look over at him. "Her leaving will be good for the tribe. It's not that she's a bad person, she just needs to grow up a little, and Shadow Cat needs to cool off a bit. I'm sure she'll be hurt at first, but I think it'll be good for her in the long run." "Then why do you cry?" I lick my lips. "You know what I just said about how going to the other village will be good for her in the long run?" I hesitate, and then blurt it out to him before I can lose my courage. "She's not the only one I think it'll be good for." Confusion is written across his face. He watches me, uncomprehending, and then reaches for my hand. "You wish for us to go to Croatoan as well? Do you want to live there?" No, I don't want to live there, I want to say, but I keep that cry bottled up inside. Instead, I rephrase it tactfully. "I think I should live there." I glance up at him. "Just me." T'chai recoils.

T'chai looks up at me as he comes, his seed hot as it spatters on my lower arms and across my skin. Even though I'm working him with a glove, this feels like the most intimate moment we've ever had, and when he gives me a shy, almost hesitant smile, my heart melts all over again. I love him, and I love this. If this is what we're meant to have, I'll take it.

No male has ever woken up in a better mood than me. I smile into the cold air, not caring that my breath puffs into a frozen cloud, even inside our hut. At my side, Mari is draped over my chest, her mouth slightly open in her sleep as she drools a puddle onto my tunic. We pleasured each other last night. The thought fills me with joy, and I cannot stop smiling. We pleasured each other, and then we dressed and I put new gloves on, and we held each other and talked until it was late. She slept at my side, and I do not care that I slept with layers covering every bit of my skin. I slept with my mate, and she did not pull away, and that is all that matters. I roll onto my side and wrap myself around her, tucking her close for just a bit longer. Mari yawns and twitches against me, then rolls onto her back, smacking her lips. "Bring me back some food?" "Are you sleeping in?" "Mmm." She pushes her face a little deeper into the blankets and I envy them. I want to be the one she buries herself against. But I can bring her food, at least.

"Ho," a familiar voice calls as I heft the large chunk of wood over my head in repetitive motions. I turn, holding it high, and see A'tar, dressed in nothing more than a pair of leggings. His feet are bare, too, but I suspect it is because the cold does not bother him, just like the sa-khui. He grins at the sight of me, showing a mouth full of sharp teeth. "You are looking stronger. My mate will be very pleased you are so healthy. She takes it as personal pride when the tribe thrives." I lower the chunk of wood to the ground, then heft it up to my shoulder and over my head once more. "The wood feels lighter every day. Soon I will need a larger piece." A'tar laughs. "Just lift your mate instead." Not a bad idea. "It is good that you are here this morning. I must speak with you." When A'tar crosses his arms over his chest and tilts his head, listening, I continue. "My mate wants to go with you when you take T'ia to the other village. And of course, I will go with her." "You do?" His eyes narrow. "Yes. I know your mate has done everything she can for my Mari, but her khui is still silent, and it distresses her. She wishes to speak to the other healer and see if she has ideas." When A'tar's mouth flattens, I realize how it must sound. "Your V'ronca saved my life and we are grateful. I hope you do not see this as an insult to her. It is not meant as that." He nods slowly, expression thoughtful as he gazes out at the rolling waves. "I understand. My mate has said before that the...

"Are you sure you want to give this to me?" I ask Megan, smoothing my hand down the pretty, pale yellow outfit I'm wearing. It's a matching tunic top and skirt, both dyed a rich, buttery shade, and there's decorative jagging along the sleeves and hemline that flutter in the slightest breeze. It might be the prettiest thing I've seen yet, and I twist and turn, admiring the zig-zag stitching along the collar and under the breasts to emphasize the figure. I feel delicate and airy, like an ice planet princess, in this thing, and I can't wait to show T'chai. He's going to love the sight. Across the fire from me, Megan smiles and shifts on her padded seat. She's got a braided leather project in her lap, but she pauses it often to rub her lower back. "Oh yeah. I made that a few years back and it hasn't fit right since I had Holvek. The boobs and hips just aren't the same." She pats her flank with a rueful expression. "It's just sitting around, so I figured I'd save it for someone else and it looks great on you." The leather's so soft it feels like suede—like T'chai's skin—and I can't stop petting it. "I love it. How can I thank you?" "Pfft." Megan waves a hand. "I'm just glad someone else can use it. No thanks necessary. It's—" She pauses as her son comes barreling into the hut. "Mama!" he bellows, holding an empty bowl. Behind him trots a little dvisti colt on three legs, the fourth tucked up tight against its furry body. It takes one look at me, bleats, and bounds over to Holve...

There's no resonance yet, a week in, but my khui hums pleasantly to T'chai's every time we get close to one another, so I know it recognizes his again. I'm not in a hurry. I figure there will be plenty of time for us to have babies and truly resonate. For now, I'm just thrilled I can touch my mate again without it sending bad signals to my brain. Instead, every time I see my mate, I'm struck by how handsome he is, how tall, how broad his shoulders are, how long his hair is, and it makes me incredibly turned on. It's like my khui's making up for lost time, because I can't keep my hands off of him. Whenever we're alone together, we're kissing and touching. The extra gloves we brought aren't needed at all, because just T'chai's smile makes me wet, and all it takes to get him alone for some quick, furtive sex is eye contact and me biting my lip. The moment that happens, T'chai excuses himself from whatever conversation he's having and we race to the hut to make love.

"So…you have five tribes from the islands? And all are living on the beach with you?" I hear Zennek ask. "Three clans," T'chai corrects, and his voice is liquid chocolate, smooth and rich and sends a shiver right down my spine and makes me tingle. "But you said there were five clans,” Zennek frowns, extending his fingers to count. "Horns, arms…fangs…? What am I forgetting?" "I am Tall Horn," T'chai says, and I can hear the note of pride in his voice as he speaks. "There is Strong Arm and Shadow Cat, as well." "Ah," says the other, turning to Zennek and gesturing at his jaw. "The fur." "And then there was Long Tail, but they did not survive the death of the Great Smoking Mountain," T'chai continues. "That is all of the clans." "You said there was an outcast clan?" My mate huffs with amusement. "That is not a real clan. No one counts them. And it does not matter, because they are all dead as well." I take another step forward and my boot scrapes on the flagstones. T'chai twitches with alertness, and he glances over his shoulder. The sight of that, of his eyes heavy-lidded as he casts a look over his shoulder, does something to me. A hot curl of need flares through my body, and it's like my pussy becomes instantly wet at the sight of the fan of his dark lashes and the beauty of his full mouth. My heart throbs again. And again. Then it's pulsing and pounding in my ears, so loud that it makes me pause. I put a hand over my chest, because I know what this is. Sure enough, my khu...

"I'm fine with fast," I tell him, tugging at his tunic. "Fast is just as good as slow." He shakes his head, a confident smile teasing his mouth. "So impatient, my mate. I promise I will make this good for you. Let me enjoy you at a slower pace. Let me memorize each moment of this so it will take away all the bad memories of the last few moons, when you wept with frustration and looked at me with sadness. We will fill those memories with something else," he promises. "We will make new memories of hungry need and yearning, and of tasting each other everywhere." I moan, my body arching. "Okay, you make that sound pretty good. Savor away." At my response, T'chai chuckles, and his fingers trail down my cheek again. "Have I told you this day that I am the luckiest of males?" "You might have said it when my mouth was on your cock earlier," I pant, biting at the pad of his thumb when it moves closer to my mouth. "But I was distracted and don't remember." "Then I will say it again." He leans in and gives me the lightest, tenderest kiss. "I am the luckiest male on this planet to have been gifted a mate such as you. No one else has a mate as lovely and strong and brave."

with his cock. I'm so close. I'm so, so very close. Then, he does something with his finger inside me that touches a spot I didn't realize I had. Everything inside me comes unglued, and I let out a shriek as I crash over the edge, the hardest, most amazing orgasm ever ricocheting through me. T'chai holds me as it ripples through my body, and then I'm left quivering and boneless in the aftermath. "What the fuck," I whisper, pleased as he kisses his way back up my body. "What did you do with your fingers?" He gives me a smug grin, peppering small bites along my jaw and neck. "I found your she-spot. A male named W'rek told me about it. Was it good?" Madre De Dios, was it good. I don't think I've ever come so hard. "It was incredible." He chuckles, kissing me, and his mouth tastes like salt and musk. "I will have to tell S'bren about it when we return." Holy shit. A she-spot…G-spot, I realize, because no sa-khui pronounces the “G” in the alphabet correctly. I let out a wild little giggle. "Here I thought you guys were just talking about fishing." "Hunters talk of many kinds of prey." He gives me the most satisfied grin, even as he puts a hand over my breast and begins to tease it again. "Four legged…and two legged."

There’s a strange flatness to his features that mark him as alien, as do the tiny horns at his brow and the shock of wild pale hair that sticks right up from his head like a flame. Not quite human, but he doesn’t quite match the aliens I’ve seen, either. The strange child tilts his head and watches me, then crouches on his haunches like a wild animal. He’s totally naked, I realize, despite the cold weather, and can’t be more than three or four years old. Is he…feral, then? How the hell did that happen? "Hi there, cutie. Who are you?" I smile, my voice sweet, and hold a hand out to him. His tail swishes back and forth, and as it stirs the sand like a brush, I realize that it’s much, much shorter than the alien tails I’ve seen. It’s stubby and bushy. He giggles at me and then scampers away on hands and knees, racing back to the piles of driftwood. I straighten, wondering if I should chase him. As I do, I look up. Another pair of eyes flare to life in the darkness. Bigger. Narrowed. Menacing. Uh oh. I stare at the second newcomer as he approaches and realize I am in some serious, serious shit.