by Octavia Kore
We like it, and our tsa will as well when she discovers what it means.
His beast was far more optimistic than Zaheer. If she ever finds out what it means. She doesn’t have to know what these marks are.
Within his mind, the guardian growled. Everyone who sees her will know she has been claimed. They will know she belongs to us, Zaheer’s guardian said. She will find out sooner or later, and it should be us who tell her.
As much as he hated to admit it, his guardian was right. What would she say when he told her what the marks he’d left on her meant? Would she hate him? Would Clara be angry?
Zaheer held her tighter as the river came into view through the trees. He crouched down, digging his fingers into the soil to brush his webs, searching the area for any sign of predators. A herd of olkoraan, herbivores with dense gray fur, picked their way through the underbrush. As a young guardian, barely out of training, he and Ivnalth had played among them, swinging from the short trunks that protruded from their faces. This herd was completely undisturbed by the much larger kuumora, a species known for their gangly legs, incredible height, and striped patterns covering their bodies, that ambled by. Skalldina and yeggm, winged creatures known for their sharp eyes, sang in the branches above them. All seemed well here.
Small stones and pebbles shifted beneath his feet as he descended the bank and waded out into the cool water. In other parts of the river, the currents were fierce, able to sweep a fully grown Krunkeeli away, but here the river was gentle and calm. It lapped at his hips and abdomen as he moved further in, crouching down so that Clara was mostly submerged.
She’d been quiet on the journey here, and he found that he hated the silence between them. Even when she hadn’t been sure they could hear her, Clara had talked, going on and on about the smallest things. The sound of her voice had soothed him on all of those fruitless days of searching for his packmate, and had kept him going when he felt like a failure, but now her mind was silent. Pretending not to hear her had upset his female, and Zaheer felt her pain deep inside his chest. It gnawed at him, spreading the seeds of guilt as it grew.
Zaheer took her wrists in his upper hands, gently brushing his thumbs over the marks as the cool water swirled over the tender flesh. It was clear her people’s skin wasn’t suited for Krunkeeli mating marks. It was delicate and soft, nothing like the skin beneath his fur. “I’m sorry for these,” he told Clara, bringing her wrists up so he could press his lips to the lines that marred her flesh.
“Why did you do it?”
He should have explained what they were, but he wasn’t at all sure how to go about it. “It wasn’t intentional,” he said at last as he stood, moving back toward the bank so that he could sit atop one of the larger boulders. Zaheer shifted his female in his lower arms so that she faced away from him. The long, soft strands of her hair had become tangled, and he carded his fingers through it, picking gently at the knots. Clara hummed as he worked, her little moans and soft sighs loosening the tension in his body.
He would have to leave her soon. His promise to Maylu to search again for Tratek if he didn’t return today weighed on his mind, and although he didn’t wish to be away from Clara, Zaheer was alpha and an alpha never went back on his word. His female would surely be safe with Ivnalth and Maylu while he was gone.
I didn’t even want a mate, and now I’m sitting here worrying over how she will fare without me.
Don’t lie to yourself, his guardian growled. We both know you’ve wanted our tsa from the moment we scented her in the forest.
A grimace settled over Zaheer’s features as he continued brushing Clara’s hair. The idea of having a mate had never occurred to him, nor had it ever been an option. Now that he had her and his marks were on her skin for all to see, Zaheer couldn’t imagine a world where he might be forced to live without her. The thought of being kept from her, of never being allowed to see or touch her again caused his chest to clench painfully.
“Zaheer?” Clara turned her head to the side. “Would you mind if I bathed while we’re here?”
“Of course not.” He lifted her into his lower arms again and waded back out until the water was at his hips.
“Umm, maybe you could set me down and turn around while I do this?” His female raised a brow.
She wanted him to release her and turn his back? Was this yet another attempt to escape him? Would she try to run?
Our tsa will not flee, his guardian said gently. She has put her trust in us and now we must do the same. Allow our female some privacy.
The beast’s faith in their female lessened Zaheer’s fears, but he still frowned down at Clara as he lowered her into the water, holding her arms in his hands as she found her footing on the slick rocks. Even if he were completely certain she wouldn’t run, Zaheer had watched her nearly plummet to her death the day before. He flexed his fingers as he released her, fisting his hands at his side as she took a few steps back.
“You wish for me not to watch you bathe?”
Clara’s gaze darted up from the clear water to his face. “Well, I’m going to be naked. I’d rather do that without an audience.” When he only continued to stare at her in confusion, Clara rolled her strange eyes. “I know that you’ve already seen everything there is to see, but I would really appreciate it if you could allow me to do this on my own.”
With a curt nod, Zaheer turned his back on her and returned to the boulder where he’d combed her hair. He heard her murmur the same command as she had the day they’d almost mated, the one that left her completely nude. Maybe the Krunkeeli were far less modest than Clara’s people were. Both she and Layla wore clothing that covered the majority of their bodies, hiding their mostly hairless skin. Zaheer wasn’t sure if this was for modesty or if it was simply meant to add a protective layer to their defenseless bodies.
Krunkeeli males and females used clothing for celebrations like matings and births, some even choosing to wear garments all the time, but guardians found clothes to be tedious. Pants, shirts, and dresses alike tore when they shifted form and were therefore useless.
Water splashed softly behind him, and Zaheer’s pointed ears twitched, straining for any sounds of distress or danger. Clara’s sighs drifted through the air, swirling like ribbons of webbing around him. He could see her as she’d been that day on the floor of the outpost, her body exposed and her creamy skin flushed a beautiful pink, the same color as the tight buds that tipped her breasts. Zaheer could remember her whimpers and moans, and the way that soft hairless skin felt beneath his lips and hands. Looking back on it now, Zaheer marveled at the strange beauty that was his female.
When his khetis twitched within his sheath, growing excited by the memories, Zaheer let out a heavy sigh and sought to distract himself. A qniik scurried across the rocks at his feet, stopping to stare up at him with its large milky white eyes. They were quick meals to Krunkeeli, usually the first creatures a pup learned to catch since they were curious to a fault. This one tilted its head, its long nose twitching as Zaheer frowned down at it. He’d fallen asleep last night while in his guardian form without the evening meal, and this morning he’d been too busy with the marks and the weight of Ivnalth’s disappointment to think about eating.
Clara hadn’t liked seeing his cousin prepare her meal, but with his back to her, she couldn’t see him strike. He made quick work of the qniik, injecting his venom before weaving the orb around its sedated form. When heat filled his palms, Zaheer punctured the orb and tipped the liquids contents into his mouth.
“Don’t take this the wrong way, but that really grosses me out,” Clara said.
A grin spread across Zaheer’s face, and he cocked his head to the side. “Do you not consume other creatures where you are from?”
“We do, but I don’t have to slaughter the cow for my burger, or the chicken for my nuggets. That’s assuming my fast food nuggets are made of actual meat in the first place though.” She laughed softly. “Honestly, there were probably no chickens harmed in
the making of my nuggets, but––”
A scream rent the air, stealing Zaheer’s breath from his lungs. He spun around, his lips peeled back in a snarl as he prepared to face whatever threatened his mate. Clara was bent at the waist, water dripping from her naked body as she held the ends of her drenched hair out in front of her. A tiny tahi clutched at the red strands with its long slender fingers. Its black and cream-colored fur was soaked and it trembled, making it difficult to see the thin striped and spotted pattern.
He could tell the moment she got a good look at it, because her eyes went wide and her entire face softened before a soft coo left her mouth. “Oh my goodness,” she whispered. “It’s the cutest thing I’ve ever seen. You look like a little bitty tapir, huh?” Clara glanced toward Zaheer. “They aren’t dangerous, are they?”
Despite the mouthful of teeth the adults sported, tahi were not known to attack. “No, but they are the worst sorts of pests. Shake it free and finish bathing.”
“Shake it free?” Clara frowned.
“It’s a hatchling, no more than a few days old by the looks of it. If it’s on its own, then the mother is either dead or she abandoned it for a reason. Give it here.”
Clara untangled the tahi from her hair, but instead of placing the hatchling in his outstretched hand, his female clutched it to her bare chest as all four of its large eyes stared up at her. “What are you gonna do with it?”
“I’ll set it in the forest and let nature run its course.” If he thought she’d see the sense in his reply, he’d clearly been mistaken.
“Zaheer!” Clara pressed the little creature closer, and the scandalized look on her face made him shift awkwardly. “I am not going to let you leave a baby in the forest to be eaten by something.”
“Clara––”
“No, Zaheer. I’ll take care of it myself.” His female glared at him, pulling a lock of hair across her chest so that the tahi could wrap its long fingers around it. “It’s okay, I’ve got you now.”
Zaheer stared after her naked form in disbelief. “They are web eaters, Clara. Do you know how many times per rotation I am forced to make repairs because of the tahi?”
“Well, at least if it eats your web, it won’t be able to burn me again,” Her words cut through his gut, but Clara wasn’t paying Zaheer any attention. “Besides, this little guy couldn’t have eaten your webs if he’s as young as you’re saying.”
“Keep it then, but don’t say you were not warned, little female.” Zaheer growled, taking immense pleasure in the way her skin flushed pink again under his gaze. Clara gave the command for her suit to return, and he watched as her body was encased within the black material.
It fascinated him that dressing for her was as simple as asking the garment to return to her. Something like that would have been useful for his pack if they required clothing, but they’d all grown up without the necessity for it. At this point in their lives, Zaheer assumed they might all find clothing to be horribly restricting.
“Come, Annih. We need to return to the outpost.”
Clara grimaced at Zaheer. It wasn’t clear if it was because of the name he’d used or the fact that he wanted to take her back so soon. She adjusted the tahi on her shoulder and pulled her mass of damp hair to one side. “We just got here. Can’t we stay a little longer?”
Slender fingers raked through the richly colored strands as she separated them and began to braid the sections together. Clara got to the end and glanced around before turning toward Zaheer.
“I have nothing to tie up the end of my braid,” she pursed her lips.
“The Krunkeeli use their webs for things like that, but in this case it would only serve as a snack for your little tahi.”
Clara glanced down at the creature in question and grinned. “Then I guess we’ll have to find something else.”
“Quickly, if you will,” Zaheer said as he followed her. “I need to return you to the safety of the outpost so I can continue looking for Tratek. I promised I would search today.”
“Is that a friend of yours?” She picked up a blade of grass, testing it between her fingers before dropping it dismissively.
“Tratek is one of my packmates, and a good friend.”
“Can he shift like you?”
Zaheer met her gaze for a moment when she glanced back at him. “Yes. All guardians are capable of shifting.” Clara stepped into the water and pulled up one of the long, flowing plants that grew up from the riverbed.
“What about Ivnalth and Maylu? Are they also guardians?” He nodded as she tied the flexible weed around the end of her braid, a satisfied hum playing on her lips when it stayed firmly in place. “So you all are guardians, but not all of your people are guardians?”
“Yes. Being a guardian is an honor given to very few.” Zaheer waited as she encouraged the tahi hatchling to cling to her braid before he lifted her into his lower arms.
“How did you become a guardian?”
The tahi chirped from its position in her hair as she settled against his chest. “We are chosen by the goddess the moment we are planted within our mothers. The High Priest attends each birth, wrapping their web around the ankle of the newborn, which allows them to sense a potential guardian or priest. The High Priest recognizes the bond, the one that allows us to speak to one another within our minds as we are now.”
“Only the guardians are capable of speaking telepathically?”
“Guardians and priests,” Zaheer corrected. “When a pup who displays this ability turns five rotations, they are brought to the temple and tested against the Alpha to see if they are capable of housing a guardian. Those who are not chosen by a beast remain at the temple.”
“And the new guardians? Where do they go?”
“We are taken away to train, to live among our new pack and learn our purpose. It is a great honor.”
Clara was silent for a moment, her brows furrowed above her eyes as she looked up at him. “So at five rotations old—which I’m going to assume is your term for a year—you’re separated from your families and either trained to be a priest or trained to be a guardian?” Zaheer nodded, pleased that he had properly explained it. “Well, that doesn’t seem right.”
“How so?”
“Did you understand what you were doing when you were taken to the temple and tested? Did you understand what you were giving up?”
The question sent an uncomfortable jitter down his spine. “I understood that it was an honor to be chosen—”
“You were a child who was expected to make an adult decision about something you most likely couldn’t comprehend, Zaheer. Your parents were okay with this?”
Were his parents okay with it? It was considered great fortune to give birth to a pup chosen to serve the goddess. His parents, like all other parents whose pups were found worthy, were celebrated and praised. “My parents were very proud to have brought another guardian into the world. It was an––”
“Honor?” Clara shook her head. “Did they come visit you often?”
“No. I have not spoken to them since the day they brought me to the temple and witnessed my first transformation into a guardian. It’s better that way.”
“Who told you that? The High Priest?”
Zaheer didn’t respond, but she wasn’t wrong. The High Priest and his Alpha had both repeated that over and over during his training. He could remember watching his parents leave and feeling like he was all alone. He could still see his mother’s face as she turned to look at him one more time with tears in her eyes. “It is our first sacrifice,” he said finally.
“You were hardly more than a baby, Zaheer. You should never have had to sacrifice things like that.” Clara’s hand stroked the fur on his chest, and Zaheer fought the urge to close his eyes and let her touch soothe the pain that was attempting to rise to the surface. “It doesn’t sound like an honor. It sounds like a punishment. What else did they ask you to sacrifice?”
Everything, his guardian said. There was so m
uch sorrow in the beast’s voice that it gave Zaheer pause. He’d never considered what his guardian might have given up to become his partner. To be honest, he’d never considered that his guardian had given anything up at all.
Clara had asked if he understood what he was giving up as a pup, and his initial thought was to say yes, that he’d gone in knowing what he was trading for a life of service to his people and his goddess, but that wasn’t entirely true. Had he really understood what never taking a mate and having a family meant at such a young age?
You are sacrificing your birth family and gaining a pack, his Alpha had proclaimed. You are gaining a family whose loyalty cannot be bought. Guardians do not mate, nor should they ever wish for it. The pack is a guardian’s family. A guardian’s loyalty is to the High Priest and their Alpha.
As a pup, Zaheer hadn’t thought much about what life without a mate would be like. He’d had his pack, and was even lucky enough to have his cousin join a rotation after his ceremony. Was this more of a punishment than an honor? Now, looking down at Clara as she gazed up at him, Zaheer wasn’t sure what to think about his life.
This female was his mate. If he were not a guardian, Zaheer would devote his life to her and the pups they brought into the tribe. He would cherish her, worship her, and Clara would do the same for him. If he were not a guardian, Zaheer would claim her properly. He would complete their mating in the way he and his beast so desperately wanted to, with his khetis and his teeth buried in her soft, warm body. It wasn’t possible, not without breaking his vows.
“Who’s that?”
Zaheer blinked at Clara’s question, surprised by the appearance of a Krunkeeli female just up ahead of them. Her body was slender and covered in white fur, completely devoid of the striped patterns all of his people exhibited. Black hair brushed the backs of her legs, swaying side to side hypnotically as she walked. She plucked web from the tips of her tails, tearing the thread to shreds that drifted down to litter the ground on either side of her. Zaheer lifted his gaze to her face, noting the eight vacant opalescent eyes and the single black stripe that marked her brow.