by Ruby Dixon
I nudge Vektal with my elbow. “We’ll talk about it.”
“We will talk about it,” he amends.
I sneak a glance at Raahosh, and he’s still staring at me. But it’s not a look of disinterest or revulsion. Rather, I see a yearning as he looks at me. Not in a sexual way. Instead, it’s as if his best buddy just showed up with the Christmas present he’d been wishing on for years.
“You are lucky,” he says finally, his voice thick, “to have found your resonance.”
“The luckiest,” Vektal agrees, and his fingers stroke my neck. “But my mate needs the healer.”
I want to protest about the mate thing since I haven’t said yes yet, but my wrist gives a pathetic throb, and I realize how much it still hurts. “Healer sounds good,” I say faintly. “Food, too?”
“Food, yes,” Vektal says and nuzzles my brow. “And warm clothing. And you shall sleep in my furs tonight.”
I blush because I feel like that is an obvious way of saying “we’re totally doing it” to his buddy, but Raahosh doesn’t blink an eye. “Come,” the new alien says and gestures for us to follow. “There will be many questions.”
“I am ready for them,” Vektal says.
“I’m not sure I am,” I chime in. The thought of being quizzed by dozens of staring aliens makes me feel exhausted, and we haven’t even entered the cave yet. “We’re still going after the others in the morning, right?”
“Others,” Raahosh says, and there is more than casual interest in his gaze.
“Georgie has arrived with five other humans,” Vektal says. “They are in need of rescue.”
“Five other humans?” Raahosh asks, his glowing blue eyes going wide. “Do you speak truly?”
“All female,” Vektal says in a low, almost reverent voice.
As I watch, Raahosh staggers. “Truly?”
“Truly.”
I’m starting to get worried, and I haven’t even told them about the six other women in the hibernation pods. “Is this a problem?” I ask. “Vektal, you said your people would help mine.”
“It is not a problem,” my alien says in a grave tone. He caresses my cheek. “It is a blessing. There are only four adult females in our tribe, and all of them are mated.”
“Do they resonate?” Raahosh asks in a harsh voice.
“They have no khui,” Vektal says. “But I resonated for Georgie. Others might resonate to a human female.”
I stop in my tracks. “Wait, what? This isn’t open season on human ladies! I thought we were getting rescued, not playing matchmaker.”
Raahosh simply stares at me like I’m insane. My words probably don’t make sense in their language. I don’t care. I’m trying to get help for my friends, not hook them up with alien boyfriends. I think back to Vektal’s “greeting” of me in which he just grabbed me and initiated sex. Sure, I orgasmed a few times, but that didn’t give him the right to make the decision to mate me, nor did it give him the right to decide the others got mates without their say so.
“No one is being mated without their agreement,” I say, crossing my arms. Then I wince because I keep forgetting my one wrist is total shit.
“It is agreed, my Georgie,” Vektal says. He caresses my cheek again. “I am the chief. They will listen to me. Any male who wishes to mate a human woman must have her agreement.”
I relax a bit at that.
“Agreement?” Raahosh sputters. “But resonance—”
“Doesn’t happen for humans,” I say sweetly.
“It is something to be argued about later, when my mate is not cold and hungry,” Vektal says, breaking in before Raahosh protests at me again. He puts a protective arm over my shoulders. “We have traveled far, and we will be traveling far again in the morning.”
“Of course,” Raahosh says stiffly. He turns and heads back to the trees, and Vektal and I follow him in.
The trees thicken, and as we approach the cliff, I see the entrance to an extremely large cave. The mouth of it is enormous and wide, bigger than any human or sa-khui—even if I stood on Vektal’s shoulders and tried to touch the ceiling. It narrows down further in, and this is where Raahosh and Vektal lead me. I cringe at the thought of spending endless hours in a deep cavern. It doesn’t strike me as safe.
But as we make our way through the winding tunnel, the air gets warmer. Noticeably so. It feels like we’re going down, so shouldn’t it be getting colder? I’m puzzled by this until the cave opens up into a larger chamber and the faint smell of rotten eggs touches my nose.
And then I’m just stunned.
The hill the sa-khui live in is hollow. The cave opens up into an enormous cavern that reminds me of a gigantic hollow donut. It’s circular, and the center is composed entirely of a large, incredibly blue pool. Another heated spring, I realize with wonder. That is why it smells so strongly of eggs.
I pinch my nose and look around in surprise. There are people bathing in the pool, a tiny child with nubs for horns splashing in the water as a man holds it and a female laughs nearby. The cavern walls round upward, and the roof has a hole in it, almost like a sunroof. From here, I can see snow drifting in, but it melts in the presence of the warmer air and drips down harmlessly.
The edges of the cavern “donut” are riddled with caves, most with ledges and walkways built from additional rock or woven reeds of some kind. A reed-like bridge spans one side of the donut’s ceiling over to the other. There are aliens everywhere, too. Some sit in the entrances of their cave-homes. Another pair weaves baskets in the distance. Off to one side, an alien with enormous, arching horns and pale skin scrapes a hide stretched over a frame.
“Vektal is back,” a voice calls out happily. Exclamations of joy and chatter erupt in the cave . . . and all heads turn toward us.
And then everyone’s staring at me.
It feels weird to be the center of so much attention. As more heads turn and people stand, others approach. And there are a lot of men. A lot of them. Some are dressed only in loincloths due to the warmth of the cave. All of them are muscular, tall, and good looking for sa-khui kind, I’m guessing. And they’re all staring super intently at me with a mixture of curiosity and longing.
“My mate,” Vektal says proudly. “A human.”
“Mother, why is its face so ugly?” A tiny voice asks. Voices raise to hush it.
Raahosh looks chagrined or choked. I can’t decide which one. Vektal growls low in his throat and takes a step forward, clearly insulted on my behalf.
I giggle. To think that these weird people think I’m ugly. They’re the ones with horns, tails, glowing eyes, and a downy suede over their bodies. They’re the ones with ridges all over their foreheads and noses and, um, other interesting body parts.
Vektal drags me against his chest in a possessive grip, and I suddenly find myself pressed against one rock-hard , vest-covered pectoral. “This is my mate. I resonate for her.” As if on cue, his chest starts to vibrate, the thick, steady purr jiggling my cheek. “She is beautiful to me. Different, but beautiful nevertheless.” He brushes his fingers through my hair. “I have seen her bravery, her spirit, and her will. She has trusted me when she has no reason to. She has given me her body when she has no khui to compel her. And it does not matter what any eyes think of her but mine . . . and to me, she is the most wonderful, most attractive, and most compelling of creatures.”
My eyes prick with emotion. Okay, for a barbarian, he’s pretty good at making a romantic speech. I’m totally giving him a handy for real when we get alone again.
“What is a huu-mehn,” someone else asks.
“Are there others?” says another voice.
“He says there are five,” Raahosh says in that low, rumbly voice of his. “All female.”
I wince at the awe and wonder that fills the voices in the cavern. Fuck a duck. These guys are going to think it’s straight-up mating season if this continues. Especially if there are only four adult women in their tribe. That is a lot of unfulfilled sexual nee
d. And what’s going to happen when they find out there are six women in stasis in addition to the six who are awake? “Vektal,” I murmur uncomfortably. As the other aliens get more excited, I get more nervous.
All eyes turn on me at the sound of my voice.
Vektal tugs me tighter against him. “There will be time to answer questions later. My mate has survived an ordeal. She is hungry and tired and needs the healer. Where is Maylak?”
“Here,” says a sweet voice. A woman with curling horns and long, flowing dark hair steps forward. She holds a child to her breast, and her belly is rounded with another. Her glowing eyes watch me with fascination.
“Good,” Vektal says. “Come with Georgie and me to my cave.”
She nods and hands her child off to another man. “Let me get my healing basket.”
My alien takes my hand and pulls me along after him. The others follow, and I don’t blame them for staring. More whisper as I turn my back to them, and I hear comments about my missing tail. I glance around, just in time to see Raahosh sink into the shadows, a spear gripped in his arms. He watches me intently but not in a creepy way. If I had to place bets, I’d say that Raahosh is going to lobby hard for a human mate.
The thought makes me uncomfortable. It’s got to be hard in a tribe full of single, lonely men….no pun intended.
Vektal takes me through the labyrinth of caves to one of the back ones along the edge of the donut. There are a few feathers and what look like decorations on the outside of the door but nothing to mark it as a chief’s lodge. It looks just like any other cave to my eyes. Inside, though, it’s warm and cozy. Furs spill over a plush nest in the corner, and there is a shelf made out of rock that holds a few household implements. There’s a fire pit in the corner, not in use, and what looks like a reed net hanging on one wall. I give Vektal a curious look. “Fishing?”
He grins, the look boyish. “I wanted to see if we could catch one of the great fish in the salt lake.”
Salt lake? Are we near a sea? I have so many questions.
“This is my cave . . . and your home now, too, Georgie.” After a moment, he adds, “If you accept me as mate.” He sounds uncertain, unhappy, and I feel a twinge of sadness that my indecision is hurting him.
The pile of furs looks inviting, though, and I can’t help but move toward it. I sit on the edge and moan with pleasure as I sink backward. This is by far the nicest, snuggliest bed I’ve had since I got here. “I’m looking forward to curling up in this,” I tell him.
His eyes light up, and I hear the thrum in his chest start.
Oh. He’s taking that as a come on. I should correct him. Instead, I luxuriate in the furs a bit longer, thinking of his sweet words earlier about how beautiful and strong I am. I arch my back so my breasts jut out. His attention goes there, and I see the look in his strange, glowing eyes grow heated.
“Shall I enter?” says a female voice.
Vektal rubs a hand over his face. “Yes. Come, Maylak.” He moves to my side and presses a kiss to my hair. “I shall go and talk with my hunters. Maylak will take care of you.”
I want to pout, but my wrist hurts, and if Maylak’s got food, she’s my new favorite person. “All right. Don’t be too long?”
“Never,” he says fervently, and his fingers trace my jaw. “If you are asleep, I shall wake you up by mating your mouth.”
A scorching blush colors my cheeks. “It’s called a kiss, Vektal.” Saying it like that makes it utterly filthy. And I’m perverted enough to be completely aroused at the thought.
He simply gives me a roguish look, presses his mouth to mine, and then bounds out of his cave. I’m admiring my last glimpse of his tight ass in his leggings when Maylak steps through the entrance a moment later, parting the door hangings. She carries a large basket in her hands and smiles at me, flashing dainty fangs. “May I join you?”
I nod. I watch her as she glides into the room, all fluid steps, and note the difference between her and a male of Vektal’s tribe. Her horns are smaller and more delicate, though it seems horns are like noses for these people in that some are huge and some are just smaller and less twisty. It probably has more to do with heredity than testosterone. Her features are as strong and heavy as Vektal’s, but her eyes seem to be bigger and longer-lashed, and her mouth is full and pouty. Her breasts are small, and her entire body seems more wiry than soft, but she moves in an utterly sensuous way that makes me jealous. Her hair is long and gorgeous, rippling in a dark waterfall to her waist and tail.
She’s dressed curiously, too. Her leathers seem more intricate than Vektal’s, with interesting little designs worked into the soft hide that remind me of embroidery. The designs edge the artfully jagged hem of her neckline that crisscrosses over her broad shoulders and drapes loosely over her belly. It’s knotted high on one hip, revealing leggings covered with more of the woven embroidery dotted through the leather. Her feet are bare when she sits next to me, though, and I’m surprised. It’s warmer in the caves, granted, but it’s still chilly to me. But Vektal’s people seem to be wearing clothing as if it’s a summer’s day.
I’m rather envious of that. I’d like to be warm for a change.
In one fluid motion, Maylak sits in front of me, cross-legged. She sets her basket down on the cave floor next to the bed and places both of her hands, palms up, on her knees. “May I heal you?”
“Um . . . yes?” There’s no word in their language for ‘okay’.
She takes my bad hand gently in hers, pulls back the leathers, and then unwraps the bindings that Vektal put on it. My wrist is still bruised and swollen, and as the bandages are removed, it throbs with renewed pain. To my surprise, Maylak closes her eyes and cradles my wrist, as if waiting for something.
Er . . . okay. I wait, since it seems impolite to ask what the hell she’s doing.
After a long moment, she opens her eyes and frowns at me. “You have no khui. I thought perhaps Vektal was mistaken.”
“No,” I say with a faint smile. “He’s right. I don’t have a khui.” The word feels strange in my mouth.
She sets my wrist down gently. “Strange. I cannot do much for you, then. My khui is a special one.,” she says, touching her breast and then extending her hand outward. “It can call upon your khui and encourage it to work stronger.”
“Ah.” Well, at least she isn’t offering to rub crystals or pack mud on me or something barbarian-like. “It’s all right, really.”
“I can re-wrap it for now,” she says, reaching into her basket. “Once you have taken on a khui, then I can heal it for you.”
I say nothing. I haven’t exactly decided that I want a planetary parasite, though the odds certainly aren’t looking in my favor at the moment. “Can I ask something?”
“Of course.” Her big, glowing eyes look up at me.
“Do you remember getting your khui?” Is that why all these people are so blasé about having a tapeworm?
Her eyes widen, and she shakes her head. “Our children are born helpless, with no khui. They are vulnerable until they have passed four days of age. Then, we hunt the great sa-kohtsk and transfer a khui to the child.”
“Why wait four days?”
“The child must be strong enough to accept the khui,” she says. “Otherwise it is death for both child and khui.” Her hands are gentle as she takes bone splints from her basket and works them into my leather wrappings, supporting my wrist.
“Does it hurt?”
She shrugs her graceful shoulders. “I do not know. I was very young when I accepted mine. It is very rare that a khui dies and a new one must be found for a sa-khui. It has not happened in my lifetime.”
This isn’t doing much to help my worry at the thought of taking in a freaking symbiont into my body. “Do you feel it moving? Do you know it’s there? Does it like . . . talk to you?”
“Talk?” Her eyes widen, and she laughs until she sees how very serious my face is. Then her laughter dies. “No, of course not. It does not speak. It i
s like having a heart or a lung or a stomach. You have a khui.” Again she shrugs her shoulders. “Some go their entire lives without feeling resonance. That is the only time the khui awakens. Then, it makes its presence known fiercely.”
“With the purring.”
“Prr—?”
“The sound,” I correct, then try to imitate it in my throat. “It makes you purr near your mate, right?”
“It is more than just that,” she says, tying down the last of the bindings around my wrist. Her hand goes to her breast. “One feels an intense surge of urgency when the khui comes to life. It is like . . . a rush of spirit.” It’s clear she’s struggling to describe it.
“Like adrenaline?” I guess, then add, “Like running down a hill really fast? Or during a hunt?”
She nods slowly. “More than that. It is . . . possessiveness, too. Your mate is yours, and those who wait to claim their mate find the feeling intensifies over time. It is difficult to describe. It is more than feeling. It is knowing.”
This worries me a little. I imagine Vektal and what he must be going through when he resonates with me. He hasn’t seemed all jacked up, though. Possessive, yes. But content. Maybe it’s different for different people.
“It is part of our lives,” she says gently. “The khui chooses the mate, and the khui is never wrong. It brings greater pleasure than any can imagine when one resonates against one’s mate.”
“And were you happy with the mate it chose for you?”
Her smile curves sweetly. “My Kashrem? No, at first I was quite angry. The khui does not always pick who we think we want in our furs. Kashrem is a tanner, not a hunter. I was young and drawn to one hunter in particular who I shared furs with.” Her long lashes flutter, and she turns to her basket and pulls out clothing. “I brought you these. Vektal says you are frequently cold, so I hope these shall help keep you warm.”
I’m sensing a conversation change. “Who did you share furs with before you, er, resonated?” I ask, wondering if it’s taboo to bring it up.