by Stacy Jones
He still looked reluctant, probably because she’d slapped his hands when he’d grabbed her during their first meeting. It was either that or the blood she’d painted on him. Thankfully, he picked her up without further prompting and took off back in the direction of her men.
About halfway back, by her best guess, she heard a weak howl behind her followed quickly by thundering noise coming at them and looked down through the branches below in time to see a single pantari running back in the direction she and Lok had just left.
Knowing it was the only one left alive, or at least the only one who wasn’t wounded too badly to run, released some of the painful tension she felt, but she wouldn’t be able to actually relax until she laid eyes on her guys and they were safe back in their hut.
Please don’t let anyone else be hurt.
Within minutes, Lok began to descend lower in the trees. Looking over her shoulder, she could see movement below.
Anxiety was like a fist around her throat, making it hard to draw in air as she twisted around uncomfortably, her eyes darting to every flicker of white fur she could see.
As soon as he landed on the ground, she didn’t wait for him to put her down but jumped off, stumbling a little since he was so tall, before running to her guys.
Frrar was sitting up against the trunk with his head leaned back and his eyes closed surrounded by the rest of her men kneeling or standing guard.
Lily faltered, her heart thudding hard against her chest before it seemed to stop as she thought, for just a moment, that he was dead.
It wasn’t until he heard her approach and lifted his head to look at her that she felt it beat again.
“Damn it, Frrar! Don’t do that to me! I thought you were dead for a second, you big jerk!” she ranted, her breath exploding from her as she dropped to her knees beside him.
He rumbled a laugh, the asshole, clearly understanding enough of what she’d said to find it funny. His amusement was followed by a groan when the movement caused him pain, the claw slashes on his stomach leaking fresh blood.
“I swear, you’ve got the weirdest sense of humor sometimes,” she muttered, hovering her hands over his injuries, not sure where to start.
Her reaching out to him placed her injured arm in view. She heard five identical masculine gasps as everyone, with the exception of Lok, saw her wound for the first time.
All of them, even Rork, surged forward, closing in on her while Frrar leaned toward her and grasped her wrist.
“I’m fine, me sehr ,” she said impatiently, waving them off with the arm Frrar wasn’t holding captive.
She appreciated their concern, but they had bigger problems than her relatively small, if jagged, cut.
They needed to get off the ground, and she needed to take care of Frrar.
“Arruk, can you carry him?”
She saw Frrar’s face scrunch up like he’d just bitten into something sour as he eyed Arruk with obvious reluctance. Stubborn refusal settled over his expression just before he pushed slowly to his feet.
“Stubborn male,” she sighed, but she couldn’t deny that a lot of the tightness in her chest disappeared when he was able to stand with only a quiet grunt and a mostly hidden wince.
As soon as he was on his feet, she got to her own, her hands stretched out to him as if she’d be able to catch him if he started to fall. She knew he was way too heavy and would probably crush her into goo if he fell on her, but it was instinct.
Stepping even closer, she scrutinized him suspiciously to make sure he wasn’t feeling worse than he showed. Thankfully, his pupils were the same size, and he wasn’t wobbling or showing any signs of dizziness or lightheadedness.
With a last, narrow-eyed glance at him she made the rounds, checking Arruk, Tor, and Drrak for any injuries.
Arruk was favoring his left leg, but when she bent to look at it she couldn’t see anything visibly wrong .
“I okay, mek Lily,” he rumbled softly, pulling her back upright and into a hug, being exceedingly careful of her arm.
Lily melted into him, her exhaustion crashing back over her even as the comfort of being held by him made her feel infinitely better. She wanted nothing more than to go home and sleep for a week.
“I love you, my oversized teddy bear,” she breathed, squeezing him to her, beyond thankful they’d made it through the attack alive.
“Mehashk, mek Pasha ,” he purred back, holding her tighter before letting her go.
Trrak let out a plaintive warble from above, letting his feelings of being abandoned in the tree known. Glancing up, she found him staring wide-eyed down at her, his six legs spread comically far apart even though the branch was more than thick enough to hold half-a-dozen full grown shevari comfortably. Lily huffed a laugh, finding it oddly amusing the cub was just as afraid, if not more, of heights than she was.
“We’ll be up in just a minute, boy,” she called softly.
Turing back to Tor and Drrak, she found only small scrapes on them and deemed them fit for travel. She was eager to get off the ground now that she’d assured herself they were mostly okay and stepped up to Tor since he had the fewest hurts.
After leaping into the tree, they waited while Drrak picked up the antsy cub and Arruk loaded their hastily thrown-off belongings onto his back before taking off in the direction of home.
Lily zoned out on the trip back, staring blindly over Tor’s shoulder as she stroked her fingers over his neck and back, comforting herself with the feel of his warm softness.
She felt like a month of activity had been packed into the last couple of weeks and she was having trouble absorbing all the changes. She’d gone through a terrifying first meeting with the tribe, stood toe-to-toe with Akksha to save Trrak’s life, fallen in love, seen firsthand the evidence of unknown people closing in on them and the brutality they were capable of, rallied an entire population of alien people to her, scrambled to set up defenses, and gotten married. For the fourth time.
And to think I used to wish for something to break the monotony of my days back on the farm. This is not what I’d meant. Except for my guys.
Win, lose, or draw what she knew was a battle approaching, she would never regret what she’d gone through or what was still to come because she had her mates.
Lok and Rork followed them back to tribe territory before splitting off, pulling Lily out of her distraction. She watched them go and abruptly realized she hadn’t even thanked them for their help or checked Rork for injuries.
She almost called them back but closed her mouth at the last minute.
She was extremely grateful to them, but at that moment she wanted nothing more than to be alone with her mates. She didn’t have the energy to host guests if they took her calling them back as an invitation to hang out for a while. It was still evening, and she had no clue if they placed any significance on being invited over for dinner.
She was still figuring out how their people reacted to social situations. She hadn’t had the opportunity to experience that while secluded in the caves with her guys or during her short time with the tribe. She’d just have to remember to thank them the next time she saw them.
W hen they got back to their hut, Lily pointed imperiously at the thick mound of leaves making up their bed while still held in Tor’s arms. Being carried like a child probably didn’t make her look super tough and in control, but Frrar laid down anyway, limiting his protests to half-hearted grumbles under his breath.
“I don’t want to hear it Mr. Bossy Pants. If you don't like being a patient, don't let the monsters sling you around like a rag doll.”
He snorted at that. She knew he didn’t understand half her words, but her tone was clear .
Sliding down Tor’s body, she scratched Trrak behind his ears then went to the small pile of wraps in the corner of their hut that she’d made from her pajama pants. They were starting to fall apart but, as she collected them, she thought there might be enough to make a sling for his lower arm, wrap the worst of the
slashes on his torso, and wrap the cut on her forearm.
When she knelt beside him and reached for his arm, he scooted away.
“What are you doing? Stay still,” she scolded, matching his stubborn frown with one of her own.
“Na. Shhk rekkr, ” he pointed to her arm, telling her to treat herself first.
Lily sighed, knowing she wasn’t going to win this argument, regardless of whether his wounds were worse or not.
“Fine,” she groused.
Looking to Arruk where he was sitting with Trrak, the oversized alligator-puppy-cat curled up fast asleep in his lap, she waved him over. She was going to need help since the wound was on her right forearm and she was right handed. She knew Arruk and Drrak’s mom was a healer in the tribe, but thought Arruk might have more experience with first aid than Drrak, since Drrak hadn’t spent much time within the tribe.
Arruk lifted the sleepy cub before setting him down in the corner where Trrak immediately curled into a big, adorable ball with his pointed tail resting over his long snout and went right back to sleep.
Arruk came to her readily after Trrak settled, but when she started handing him a water balloon, the healing salve, and strips of cloth he began to look uneasy.
Assuming he was worried about hurting her or was bothered by the blood, though he’d been fine with her periods, she dismissed it until all her guys began to murmur and glance around like someone could see them, even though they were in their hut and clearly not in view of anyone.
They looked paranoid and unnerved.
They’d worn those same expressions the first time she’d changed up their sexual positions.
“What? What’s wrong?” she asked, peering at all of them in turn.
The only one who didn’t seem distressed was Drrak. She could see just a glimmer of anxiety in his eyes, but he mostly just looked intrigued.
“Shevariakr na Daturi, na sehr, ” Arruk whispered.
“What do you mean males aren’t healers? Like at all?”
“No at all,” he answered.
“Why?”
He gaped at her as if her question shocked him speechless.
“Be Healerr is Helirr, Gift, cul Shakti tul shevariak, na shevariakr. ”
Lily knew they viewed healing as a gift from their goddess instead of a learned skill, but she hadn’t realized they thought it was exclusively for females. She knew women were in charge of the tribe and the only ones allowed in positions of leadership, but the males were the caretakers. She’d just assumed treating wounds would be open to either gender as it could be seen as a lauded position and a job for nurturers.
“So a male can’t heal at all? What about when Tor healed my feet before we went to the caves?”
“Na. He care, love for Pasha, but no heal. ”
“Seems awfully similar to me,” she muttered to herself. “Your mom er, Shevak , is a healer, yes?”
He nodded his head but eyed her warily as if he knew where she was going with that line of questioning.
“So you’ve seen her work?” she pressed, answered by another almost reluctant nod. “Good. Sehr. No one can see us, and I need your help.”
He still looked nervous and edgy. But, after a pause where he seemed to be making a decision, he straightened his shoulders and cupped her cheeks, leaning forward to nuzzle his nose tenderly to hers.
“Aaras tul mek Lily. Mek shaar ha shhk ,” he rumbled, saying he would do anything for her, that his life was hers.
It freaked her out that he was implying his life might be put in danger by doing as she asked, or at least that’s how she took his wording.
She hadn’t thought something as simple as him helping her clean and dress her wound would be so serious. She couldn’t fathom their people would condemn someone for that, but his somberness was definitely giving her the impression that’s exactly what would happen.
“Umm, you know, I’m sure I can manage on my own,” she backtracked, trying to take the supplies back from him, but he held on to them, not letting her.
“No. I help,” he said decisively and, with more surety than she’d expected after his hesitation, began to tip water over her arm then pat it clean with infinite care.
Lily watched his face as he worked, tracing his features with her eyes. His show of determination and his bravery in going against his people’s ways touched her.
She knew she’d brought a lot of disruption into their lives and a lot of changes they didn’t always know how to deal with right away, but she was constantly awed with how well, how readily, they adapted.
She knew they loved her—they showed her every day, in every way possible—but it was at times like this that she really understood just how much.
Lily thought she’d adapted well to life on a primitive planet, but that was nothing compared to the eagerness and grace with which they adapted to caring, protecting, and loving an alien mate.
They were so intensely devoted, so selflessly and endlessly caring, and so ready to shift their views on life and love to fit her. Lily didn’t know what she’d done to deserve not one, but four perfect men, but she was never letting them go. Even if she lived one thousand years and spent every day loving them with every piece of herself, it wouldn’t be long enough to ever come close to showing them how grateful she was to have them.
Arruk was intensely focused, taking every care possible to keep from hurting her as he cleaned her arm then smeared her cut with salve and wrapped it.
He inspected his work critically when he finished, looking extremely proud of himself, but when he glanced up and caught her staring at him, his eyes widened and he ducked his head.
Lily laughed softly, charmed with his bashfulness.
I love him so damn much.
“Come here, you,” she whispered, pulling him to her so she could kiss his soft, full lips.
He went to her readily, purring before their mouths had even touched. That purr deepened when she kissed him tenderly and turned into an outright growl when she ended it by biting his lower lip.
If Frrar hadn’t needed her, she was sure she would’ve taken it much further than just a kiss, but he did, and she wasn’t selfish enough to leave him in pain while she rode Arruk to a screaming orgasm, no matter how slick her thighs were with the desire to do just that.
Even Drrak’s presence and her shyness at the thought of him watching while she had sex with one of the others wouldn’t have been enough, but Frrar’s muffled groan of pain was.
With a last kiss for Arruk, she turned to Frrar, crawling quickly to his side and assessing which of his wounds needed her attention first. The gashes on his stomach looked bad, but they’d already stopped bleeding due to their impressively fast healing so she decided on his shoulder. If it got too swollen she’d have a hell of a time trying to pop the joint back into place, and she wasn’t overly confident of her ability to do that correctly as it was.
“Tor, hold his hand,” she directed.
“This is going to hurt, Honey. I’m sorry,” she apologized, holding a doubled-over length of vine in front of his mouth for him to bite down on.
He opened for it, biting it securely, and took Tor’s upper hand with his own then nodded to her.
Sucking in a steadying breath, she picked up his lower-right arm, holding it just above his elbow, and felt around for the shoulder joint hidden in his upper side, directly below the underside of his upper arm.
It was dim in their hut and growing dimmer as late evening approached, so she had to use touch to direct her.
She knew the basics of resetting a dislocated shoulder, having had it done to her by her Grams when she’d fallen off a horse as a teenager. She still remembered her alarm when Grams had waved away her desire to go to the ER, saying with her usual nonchalant surety that she could handle it. Grams had been right, she could and did handle it, but it had hurt like hell. That was the first, and last, time she cussed in front of Grams.
Hurt arm or not, she’d gotten popped on the ass for
that slip.
Once she felt around to locate the joint and had a good grip on his bicep, she used her fingers to guide her, feeling where she needed to push.
She glanced up just before she popped it in, hesitating.
Frrar was watching her, his stare calm and unwavering. He was reassuring her even laid out and in pain. Though his faith made Lily nervous, it gave her the confidence she needed.
Without giving herself time to second guess, she pushed firmly and smoothly until she heard and felt the pop as the joint went back into place. Frrar groaned around the vine in his mouth and bowed his body up, followed by a surprised yelp from Tor as Frrar squeezed the hell out of his hand.
His pain thankfully only lasted a minute before he relaxed, panting, against the nest. His expression seemed more relaxed, and the smile he gave her was strained but genuine.
“Can you squeeze my hand?” she asked, not ready to relax with him until she knew she hadn’t fucked something up.
He slid his palm down her arm and gripped her hand, squeezing hard enough to show her his muscles were working but not hard enough to hurt her.
Sighing in relief, Lily leaned down to kiss him before focusing on the claw marks on his middle. Treating those was straightforward, only needing to be cleaned and coated with their salve before she wrapped him up to keep debris out of his wounds. She knew from past experience he would be mostly healed by morning so, while they were deep, she didn’t worry about him needing stitches.
After Frrar was taken care of, she made the rounds to treat everyone else’s scrapes and cuts.
When she was finished, and they were all sporting at least some of the earthy smelling salve, they ate a quiet dinner, each lost in their own thoughts.
Lily’s yawn prompted them to start taking their places for sleep, but when Drrak moved to lay down near the trunk making up their back wall, she caught his arm to stop him.
Their post-mating bliss had been interrupted by terror and a fight for survival, but she wasn’t about to let him sleep anywhere except under her. It was essentially their wedding day.