by Ruby Dixon
“The long way? What do you mean?”
“Walked,” he says, and he sounds like he’s panting even though he’s standing still. “Me and Ereven. Wanted to get here before the brutal season. Vuh-ron-ca and Ashtar were not ready. Left anyhow.” His weary gaze rests on me. “Tired.”
“You knew it was about to be the brutal season and you decided to cross the mountains anyhow?” I’m shocked and a little angry. It’s so dangerous. I’m so happy he’s here. There are a million things running through my mind.
So I burst into tears. Naturally.
“Do not cry, my mate,” my Zolaya says, putting an arm around my shoulders. He presses his mouth—chapped and raw and cold—against my brow and kisses me.
“I should kick your ass,” I tell him, sobbing. I’m so wound up—I don’t know if this is anxiety or relief. Possibly both. I want to simultaneously choke him for putting himself in danger and fling myself in his arms because I’m so glad he’s home.
“Once it is thawed, you may do whatever you wish to it,” he tells me. “Shall we go to our hut?”
“You need the healer.” I glance over at Marlene, but she’s helping Ereven out of his ice-caked overfurs and into her wrap. A moment later, Claire comes running, her voice little more than a high-pitched scream. In the distance, I can see Maylak being led forward by Zalene, and others are coming running, too.
Oh good, because I’m starting to feel faint. The world starts to go black at the edges even as the baby kicks and kicks in my belly. I gulp air, my panic rising.
Zolaya grabs my chin in cold fingers and tilts my head toward him. “Air-ee,” he murmurs, and I’m dimly aware of him setting down Analay. “Look at me. Breathe. In. Out.”
I cling to his furs, my gaze locked to his as we breathe together. I hate that I’m having a panic attack right now, when he needs the healer. I’m going to tell him that, just as soon as I’m no longer ready to pass out.
“Stay with me,” he says in a low voice. “I have waited endless days to see your face again, and I prefer it awake.”
I choke out a laugh, and then suck in a deep breath. I’m breathing. I am. I’ve got this. My mate’s home. I throw my trembling arms around his waist and hug him close.
25
ZOLAYA
Ereven and I are in rough shape. There is frostbite, windburn, and my ankle throbs and has swollen to twice its size. The healer fusses over us, chiding me in her calm, smooth voice, but I do not care. My Air-ee is at my side, her fingers laced in mine. Across from me, Ereven lies by the healer’s fire with his head in Claire’s lap. Mar-layn has taken the kits to her hut, even though my son did not wish to leave his papa’s side. I promised I would not be going anywhere anytime soon, and I mean that.
I am not leaving him nor Air-ee until our kit is born.
My mate looks strained. Her gaze that look that tells me she has been fighting many mind-avalanches, and there are shadows under her eyes that speak of sleepless nights. It takes time for the mind-avalanches to leave, but I will make time for her. I squeeze her hand tightly and her eyes threaten to flood with tears once more.
My sweet, gentle Air-ee.
Then there is no more to be done by the healer. “Come back in the morning if you are in pain,” Maylak tells us, her expression as fatigued as ours. “I can try to help more if you need it.”
I get to my feet and test my ankle. Already it is much better, and by tomorrow, it will not even hurt. My face no longer stings. I am fine. “You have my thanks, Maylak. I am as strong as a sa-kohtsk already.”
“Mmm,” is all the healer says, giving a little shake of her head in amusement.
“Now I wish to go home with my mate,” I tell her, and pull Air-ee to her feet. It seems that in the time I have been gone, her belly has grown even larger. It makes it difficult for her to move around, and at the sight of it, I am relieved that I chose to return home early. The kit is not due for another turn of the moon, but I suspect it will come early. Air-ee is just so large.
“I am sure the chief will be by early in the morning to scold you,” Maylak says in a mild voice as she turns back to Ereven and Claire. “Be ready for that.”
I just chuckle, because I have no doubt that she is correct. I do not care, though. I am home with my Air-ee and my son, and that is all that matters.
We bundle up in our furs, and then Air-ee holds on tightly to my arm as we head out into the stinging cold night. She shivers against me, but luckily it is not a long walk to our hut, and inside, the fire is still banked low, providing warmth. I help her take off the furs, hang them in their regular spot, and then stoke the fire. “Let us get you warm, and then we will retrieve Analay from Mar-layn’s home,” I tell my mate.
“She’s going to keep him tonight,” Air-ee says, easing down onto a hard leather stool I made for her. “Give us some time alone together.”
I grunt. Mar-layn is a good friend to our family. I will be sure to bring them a few tender hoppers the next time I go hunting. “That is kind of them.”
“It is, because I don’t want Analay to see Mommy have a nervous breakdown.”
I look over at her and she is shaking, her hands clenched over her belly, her entire body vibrating with tremors. “My mate,” I murmur, moving to her side and cupping her face. I know this trembling is not due to cold. “All is well, I promise you. Am I not home safe before the brutal season? Your kit is safely in your belly, I am whole, you are whole. All is well.”
“But why are you here?” she asks finally. Her fingers dance along my now-bared shoulders, and they feel cold against my skin. I welcome that, because it reminds me of long nights together in which she would press her cold fingers to my body and giggle under the covers. I love her small, cold hands. “They said Veronica and her dragon were going to bring you back—”
“I did not want to wait for them,” I tell her, pressing my warmer hands against her cold ones on my cheeks. I smile up at her lovely face. I have missed her so, so much. “Ereven and I thought that we could make the journey over the mountains on our own with no problems. Unfortunately, there was the problem of my ankle. And the storm. And the ravine I almost fell into.” I joke about the last one, but when she goes pale, I shake my head. “I only tease, Air-ee. You know I would not go anywhere near a ravine.”
“I’m going to kill you,” she says in that strangely calm way of hers. “Right after I stop kissing you for the next hundred years.”
This sounds pleasant to me. “I do not object.”
“Of course you don’t,” she snaps, and then bursts into tears again.
I just pull my mate into my arms. I know she is frustrated and full of emotion. Her mind-avalanches have probably been making her wild with worry, and she is doubly emotional with the kit in her belly. I settle her on my lap and let her cry on my shoulder, her tears soaking my tangled mane.
“D-do you know what you looked like when you got here?” she asks between hiccupping sobs. “You l-looked half d-dead. It scared me so much because I’ve been thinking the w-worst things in the last few weeks, and—”
“And that is your mind-avalanche,” I remind her gently. “You did not have me to talk things through with. Did you talk to anyone else?”
She burrows against my neck, pushing her face into my mane. “Your hair is one big snarl,” she tells me, sniffling. “And no. I talked to Marlene a little, and Maylak, but I didn’t want them to think I was whining when everyone’s mates were gone.”
“It is not whining to be lonely,” I tell her, stroking her back. “It was a mistake to go. I know that now, but—”
“But you couldn’t not go. You had to help those people,” she adds, wiping her cheeks. “I just wish I was strong enough to handle it.”
“You are,” I say with a squeeze of her body. I have spoken to the healer privately before. It is not something my mate can control, these mind-avalanches. Something in her mind turns on and will not shut off, and then the rest of her body reacts. It is not her being
a worrier. It is that her mind is producing these things it should not. She cannot help it. She knows this, and yet she always blames herself. “All I did was travel with the other hunters to retrieve some more humans. You had to stay here and raise our son, teach the village’s kits, and grow our daughter in your belly.” I touch the rounded swell of it. “You had to do all this and fight off your mind-avalanches, so do not tell me that you are not strong. You are as strong as any other female in this camp. Never doubt that.”
“Yeah, but I cry a lot,” Air-ee admits, sniffling again.
“And Jo-see talks a lot when she is upset. Suh-mer, too. No one gets upset at that. Nor should you get upset about your tears.” I press my mouth to her smooth forehead, unable to stop touching her. “You should do as Jo-see does and corner someone to talk for an hour. Then you will see if they prefer quiet tears or endless yapping conversation.”
She chuckles, and the sound warms my heart. I have missed that soft, watery little laugh. “God, I love you,” she whispers. “I’m so glad you’re back.”
“I have wanted nothing more,” I tell her, sliding my hands up and down her back. “I dreamed of this moment over and over again.”
“Me too.” Her gaze focuses on my mouth, and then she kisses me with desperate, intense passion.
I groan at the taste of her and pull her against me even as my tongue slicks against hers, delving into her smooth mouth. I am suddenly very glad that Analay is spending the night over at Mar-layn’s hut. His mother and I need time to rejoice in being in each other’s arms once more. But even as I kiss my mate and run my frantic hands over her body, I cannot help but pay attention to the enormous bulge in her belly. I pull my mouth reluctantly from hers and nuzzle her nose. “I want you more than anything, my mate, but you are very, very heavy with child.”
“Like that’s going to stop me?” She nips at my lower lip. “Remember when I was carrying Analay? We could still have a lot of fun together, despite how big my belly was.”
I remember. My mate was…very creative with her mouth and her body. “Are you tired?”
“Never. Not when it comes to you.” She gets to her feet, the movement surprisingly fluid, and then takes my hand and pulls me toward our furs. “Come home,” she tells me.
I know what she means when she says that—home is in her arms. I belong nowhere else but there. I lie down in the furs with her and pull her into my arms, exploring her body. She wants to put her mouth on my cock and pleasure me, but I have been too long without my mate and I am the greedy one this time. I make her come first, by teasing her sensitive nipples and swollen teats, and then moving between her thighs and licking her soft cunt until she cries out with the fierce joy of it. When she has bathed my tongue in her release, I let her up, and she immediately slides down my belly to take my cock in hand. No amount of protesting can stop her from her task, and after a few licks from her sweet tongue, I no longer protest.
When we are both sated, she pulls her stool over to the side of the bed and gets out her comb, then begins to work on my hair while I lean against her knees. She tells me of Analay’s adventures, of his strange predictions, and of her school that she does to try and teach our kits some of the things human kits know. I close my eyes, content. I have missed her body, true, but the quiet moments together are what I have missed the most. Just being with my mate and hearing of her adventures while I was gone fills my heart with joy.
It is good to be home.
Epilogue
ARIANA
ONE WEEK LATER
“I knew she would not stay in there for another full turn of the moon,” my mate tells me smugly as he gazes down at our little daughter, swaddled in the softest leather blankets we have. He’s fascinated with the sight of her and can’t stop staring.
It’s so very cute.
I give him a tired smile as he strokes the downy hair on her tiny head. “I’m glad. I don’t think I could have gotten any bigger and functioned.” My belly had grown to what felt like massive proportions lately, and then dropped in the last few days, which I thought was a good sign, but I didn’t say anything. Just in case. Then last night, I woke up before dawn to the oh-so-pleasant realization that my water had broken, and contractions began. I decided to have some tea before I woke up the healer…and then my little girl slid out before dawn. It was the easiest birth ever, and I’m still impressed that it was so effortless.
I’m exhausted but happy as he hands her back to me. She’s perfect, of course, and I love that she looks just like her papa. Analay has my features except that he’s got his father’s bony brow and horns, but this little girl looks as if she came from two sa-khui parents. She’s got the ropy black hair, horn buds, a ridged brow, three fingers, and a little tail that thrashes back and forth angrily. Her skin’s just a shade lighter than Zolaya’s, but there’s no doubt she’s his child. “A perfect little girl,” I say, letting her grab onto my finger with her tiny ones. Her little face screws up and then she lets out an angry wail.
“She’s mad, Mama,” Analay says, watching from the foot of the bed. Zolaya took him to Marlene’s house to sleep the rest of the night when my contractions started, and he’s just now waking up to discover that he’s got a little sister. He’s fascinated by the sight of her, his own little tail twitching with interest.
“She’s hungry,” I tell him, and pull open my tunic, settling her at my breast. “You know, when you were a baby, you didn’t like to drink my milk.” I remember how awful it was to think that my baby couldn’t drink from me without the healer’s help, and how useless and like a failure I felt. Every time I held Analay, I swore I’d never have another baby. I loved him, but his distress upset me so much that it felt like a reflection on me as a mother.
Funny how perspective changes. I look down at the little girl at my breast, latching onto my nipple, and think that if she has the same problems, we’ll just work through it, like we did with Analay. And the same goes for any kits that might be in our future. Stuff happens. Life goes on.
Now if my brain could just remember that, that’d be great.
“Name?” Zolaya asks. “Did you decide which one?” He moves to the fire and puts on morning tea, since we’re probably about to be visited by every woman in the tribe who needs to come and ooh and aww over my beautiful little girl.
“I think Zoari.” I rub my finger against her cheek. It fits her best out of all the combinations we thought of, and different enough from her brother’s for her to be her own person.
“Zoari,” my mate repeats, nodding. “I like it. You are good at this, Air-ee.”
“What, naming?” I tease.
“Being a mother,” he tells me.
I bask in his praise. It does feel right to have a baby at my breast, my son looking on. Weirdly enough, I don’t feel anxious. Most of my panic attacks stem from feeling out of control of a situation, and this time, I feel like I’ve got this. I’m raising a wonderful little boy, I’ve got an amazing mate at my side, and a beautiful, plump baby to cuddle.
I’ve got this. With Zolaya’s support and love, I can do anything.
AUTHOR’S NOTE
This was a book that took forever to (mentally) bake!
Or more specifically, it was a book that I didn’t want to tackle for a long time. I’ve been asked over and over for Ariana’s book, because people wanted to know why she cried all the time. So a while back, I sat and thought it out. Why DID Ariana cry all the dang time?
The answer was simple: anxiety.
Now, anxiety is a different beast for everyone. Some people clean obsessively. Some bite their nails. I have lots of experience with the kind where you flip out and cry. Whee. Wheeeee. It’s really not fun, and so when I realized that was what was making Ariana cry, I didn’t want to write her book. It’s hard enough to be in your own head all the time, and then to spend the next month with a character who was constantly in one stage of a panic attack after another? That’s hard on the brain. So I didn’t want to tell it.
But after writing it…I kind of love it. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I know some people out there will hate Ariana. And that’s okay. Everyone copes with anxiety differently, and her method will probably drive some people crazy (like it does her tribesmates). But someone else out there is going to say OMG SO ME and that’s kind of who this book is for. Just because you have a shitty brain doesn’t mean you can’t be a romance heroine. Just because you have anxiety doesn’t mean you aren’t lovable or capable of being loved. It just means that you fight the good fight with your own head a little every day.
Medication helps. Therapy helps. Talking helps.
I also struggled with ending this on a positive note. Those of you that have anxiety (I’m pretty sure every writer out there just raised their hand in the air) know that you can’t ‘win’ or beat it. It’s an ongoing thing. Some days it’s great. Some days it’s exhausting. I didn’t want this book to be all GOOD DICK SAVED HER, GUYS and that she was magically cured with the power of Zolaya’s love and his blue dong. Having an understanding partner helps, but it’s also self-care and acknowledging that you need help (and okay, the magical cootie takes the edge off in my mind, too).
So there you have it! Wow, this got super deep. Obviously it hits close to home for me. I realize Ariana’s a bit of a different heroine, but in my eyes, she’s just as badass as someone like Liz. Hers is just a quiet internal fight. I personally imagine living on an ice planet without medication and cringe.
At any rate, I hope you enjoyed the story. Next up in this series (but not next on the schedule) will be Marlene! Everyone’s been asking about her and for the longest I didn’t have a good plot or concept for who she was. Then she kind of sassed her way onto the page and I fell in love. Of COURSE I’m going write her story and that of her blushing, adorable mate.