by Y. M. Roger
It matters not, my Tazirr. Our Affie is an answer to our lonely prayers because she settles both of us.
Afacan pulled her still-dirty face back to look Tazirr in the face.
“Nayshaaalleee?”
Oh, yes, beautiful one. That is your male’s magnificent name.
Tazirr chuckled and growled inwardly at Neşeli’s gloating at their female’s mistake as Afacan gently licked the side of his face and rested her forehead against his. Continuing to inhale her scent, Tazirr gently shook his head in the negative, still not separating them.
“No, Afacan,” he raised her chin to follow his eyes as he pulled his head back from hers. Letting go and with her little head frozen in the position in which he left it, Tazirr took her hand and placed it against his chest. “Tazirr,” he patted his chest with her hand and, just as quickly, he put their joined hands to her chest, “Afacan.”
Tazirr repeated the entire action twice more until a broad smile peeled across her soiled little face, and she roughly wrenched her hand from his. Without missing a beat, she patted her own chest, “Aaafuujhaan,” and then pressed her hand to Tazirr’s cheek, “Tuuuuuhjzhurr.”
Tazirr felt a part of him ripped away and stolen by those two words and by her touch, and he stood spellbound as he slowly nodded at her innocence. But before he could say more, her little hand slid down to his torso, just between his two hearts, and she leaned forward to nuzzle his neck as she patted him and spoke, “Nayshahllee.”
Oh, Tazirr! She … she …
Tazirr hugged Afacan’s small body so tightly that Neşeli had to growl a warning inside of him so that he would not crush her. The massive Huntmaster caught his breath as he lowered his face to rub it against her tussled blonde hair that now almost miraculously hung below her shoulders.
“Yes, my Afacan,” he worked hard to pass the lump in his throat, “We are Tazirr and Neşeli.”
She sighed contentedly as Neşeli growled gently from within Tazirr. But, just as suddenly, Afacan yanked her face away from his as an unknown – not quite threatening but definitely feminine in pitch – growl rolled up from her throat, and her hand fisted in his maalchie-nest hair as her deep scarlet eyes glittered brightly with conviction.
“My Tuhjzhurr and Nayshahllee.”
A satisfied chuckle rumbled its way through Tazirr’s entire body as Neşeli actually purred – if that was what that vibration emanating from the zehirakre could be called as Tazirr had never heard it before.
Tazirr nodded his head and started for their dwelling with Afacan nuzzled contentedly against them.
We need to …
“Yes, I know, my Neşeli,” Tazirr licked his thumb and rubbed just a bit of the dirt from her face near one of those enchanting little burgundy eyes, “We need to feed her.”
No … beyfendi oblivious. First, we need to cover your maleness.
Tazirr laughed out loud causing Afacan to pull back and stare wide-eyed at him. Tazirr simply placed his forehead against hers and breathed her in to settle her down again.
“Yes, mamé,” he whispered although the phrase was almost awkward to his tongue as Tazirr felt as though he had not smiled or joked in cycles, “And then we will fix a good meal for us all.”
Tazirr felt and could almost hear Neşeli clicked all of his pinchers in anticipation of fresh-cooked meat nourishment as Tazirr opened the door and stepped inside – he did not want to put Afacan down until he had a way to cover himself as his altre had instructed.
He placed Afacan down in front of one of the work tables in the furnace area, her attention immediately drawn to the easily identifiable blades on which he had been working before the Assassin incident. Turning his back only long enough to grab a pair of his heavy leathers and slip his legs quickly into them, Tazirr already had her back in his arms before her first little curious hand reached one of the sharp blades.
That would need to be one of their first lessons this day – what NOT to touch in her Tazirr’s workshop.
He chuckled to himself as well as to Neşeli.
“And, after we eat, we need to bathe her in case she grows again.”
It was Neşeli’s turn to hiss and actually chuckle in return.
Yes, because, too much more growth, and it will not be appropriate for us to do so, correct, you big brute?
Tazirr laughed again as he stopped in front of the mirror and held their two faces together – there were tiny little tracks amidst the soot and beard on his face where his Afacan had licked him, and it was obvious where he had wiped with his moistened thumb just a few moments ago.
She is good for us, Tazirr.
Tazirr grunted in agreement and took a deep, decisive breath – the tracks had decided it, though. After he bathed and clothed their Afacan, he should probably do the same for himself.
And comb out his hair as well.
But we do not have a meeting with the Prince or with Captain Marid. Neşeli rubbed himself comfortingly against Tazirr’s insides. A regularly clean and combed Huntmaster? I am not sure the Empire is prepared for that much change all at once, you hulking menace.
Tazirr growled at his altre’s sarcasm, and delighted in his Afacan’s growling in return.
It was just her little growl this time, not the animal they had both heard vocalize itself earlier – her altre of which Tazirr knew nothing at the moment.
I believe she would call hers a beast, my Tazirr.
Neşeli referred to the female’s unmistakable Crimson scent, but Tazirr responded in true Tazirr fashion with an added growl of his own.
“She will learn to live as we do, Neşeli. Her blood matters not.”
Neşeli added his own obviously possessive growl in agreement.
Yes. Because she belongs to us.
Just as they entered their living quarters through the passageway that connected the workshop to it, Afacan’s alert gaze darted immediately to the cooler. She lifted Tazirr’s hand and, taking one of his single yet quite beefy fingers in her small hand, she brought it to her mouth and licked it. Then she smiled as she playfully nibbled the end of it and pretended to chew afterwards in an obvious mimic of his actions that had instructed her to actually bite and eat the chop last night. Her sparkling burgundy eyes alight with her intelligence smiled at him in evident trust and adoration.
You were right, Tazirr. Our Affie is a fast learner.
Tazirr chuckled as he sat her on the countertop.
“Afacan is hungry,” Tazirr rubbed his stomach and then hers, “Hu-unGr-ry.”
He made a smacking sound with his lips as he grabbed the last leftover chop out of the cooler and handed it to her.
“Eat, precious.”
But Afacan only held the chop with a complete look of trepidation on her face. So, Tazirr repeated the command, this time a little more adamantly.
“Eat.”
Still, the young female just stared wide-eyed at him, her lower lip slightly beginning to quiver.
Do not get annoyed with her! The word, you brute, is ‘bite’!
Tazirr smiled and put his hand gently over the nape of Afacan’s neck to caress her there – he took care to speak plainly and without any annoyance in his timbre as he pointed to her.
“Bite, Afacan. You are hungry.”
Afacan’s entire body smiled at him as she immediately sank her teeth into the chop. As she chewed, she held the chop out toward Tazirr and spoke with a mouthful of food so that her words were quite jumbled – although both Tazirr and Neşeli understood.
“TuhshurrranNayshaahllee hunngreee?”
Tazirr tightened his grip on her nape briefly before releasing it to turn to the open cooler and began removing a large number of ingredients – to include the large leftover roast they had made for dinner a few days ago – to begin breakfast preparations.
“Oh, yes, my Afacan,” both he
and Neşeli growled their agreement as Tazirr nodded his head, “We are definitely hungry, too.”
Afacan’s eyes nearly popped out of her little head and she squealed that very high-pitched shriek of delight at the sight of the sizeable roast and other food.
She is definitely a rather vocal female.
Tazirr winced at her outburst as he glanced over his shoulder at their female just to be sure that had been a squeal of happiness. At that moment, Afacan held up her chop bone in one hand and simply cheered with the other as she exclaimed with pure exhilaration – her voice, while shrill, not as disturbing physically as her squeals.
“Aaafuujhaan eeeet! Tuhjzhurr eeeet! Hu-u-ungreeee!”
She lowered the chop to her smiling mouth to take another bite – quite proud of her sing-song compilation – as Tazirr turned completely and engulfed her in another bear hug, and simply inhaled everything that she was – excitement and all.
Hmmmm. Definitely an answer to prayers, my Tazirr.
Tazirr could not agree more as he turned back to work on getting some more food for their precious and, yes, hungry Afacan.
Soon.
And, perhaps, some for us as well, heh?
They both chuckled as Afacan hummed and gnawed on her chop bone – her bare little feet happily pounding out an unknown rhythm on the cabinetry over which they hung.
The elaborately raised and connected buildings and large trees interspersed amongst them sprawled out as far as the eye could see – Capital City was as awe inspiring and as densely populated as they remembered it. They could almost pick out the lower sections not far from the Pantheon where Mamere awaited them later today – Chiyoto’s stomach turned at the thought. At that moment, as a distinctly possessive growl rumbled up from deep within him, Chiyoto turned and smiled shyly at Rafal whose heat never strayed far enough that she missed him – his presence a daunting reminder that there were still important things between them that had thus far been left unspoken.
The Crowned Prince leaned over and, after pausing and taking a deep breath just above her head, whispered in a deep, almost growling tone right next to her ear, “Stay here, shioliah.”
Even his breath that close stirred her body to respond – a combination of physical reactions that she still did not completely understand, but that she suspected had to do with a bonding between beings – something that she only understood through reading.
She sighed.
Chiyoto watched as Rafal stood – her nape and upper back instantly missing the almost constant hold he had maintained on her mane throughout most of the morning. With his over-powering presence, she had managed to pretty much ignore or be completely distracted from most all the peripheral activities associated with their preparation and travel – to include every Black Guard in the Detail save Sila from glaring at her or simply ignoring her presence. It seemed her awareness of her Rafal in practically every sensory aspect of her and Runa’s being was magnified this day. And, as she and Runa had internally joked, a magnification of the Crowned Prince could be more than a bit over-whelming to anyone especially to one not used to having a powerful someone in such close proximity on a continuous basis.
Runa growled again in agreement as she followed her Chiyoto’s thoughts.
And speaking of Runa, the powerful altre was definitely more settled this morning – much more so than she had been since the morning they had stepped into the ag-runner. Even in the somewhat cramped space of Rafal’s personal conveyance, the dragoness seemed unphased and almost aloof – it was as if feeding from Rafal last night had made her more accepting of the Crowned Prince in their lives.
A rumble rolled around inside of Chiyoto’s bones as Runa chuckled in her deep, almost sated tone.
Hardly, my Treasure. Runa sharpened her talons on themselves. I could only begin to try to actually accept your Sadid if you were mated.
Chiyoto could almost see her Runa roll her eyes with the thought unspoken to finish that statement … the emphasis being on the crux of the word “begin.” Still, Chiyoto knew that Runa’s statement and, yes, all of her feelings regarding Rafal stemmed from Runa’s deep need to protect her.
And as much as every part of her responded to all that Rafal was, her Runa’s doubts were not without foundation – Chiyoto was not so naïve that she, too, would not concede them. Yes, she had, in fact, found some issues of her own that were niggling at her this morning despite the feelings Rafal stirred in her, both physically and emotionally, which were probably the reason the loss of his touch seemed so dramatic to her body.
Because, although Rafal had consented to her feeding from him as a mate feeds his female – or a female hers or both the other, whichever exchange was applicable – in the Blood-borne sense, there still remained the important point that they were not mated.
There had been not bonding involved – only her feeding from him.
And there it was: the sticking point about which Runa and Chiyoto had been in conflict all morning – the fact that Rafal had not even tried to pursue that which he had, up until now, made it very clear that he wanted. Oh, he had held them close even once their feeding was finished – in fact, the Crowned Prince had held them tightly spooned up against his large, hard body all night without relent – actions that made Chiyoto feel safer than she ever had and Runa feel trapped and uneasy.
Why would he not complete the Ilişki?
Both she and Runa had heard from the streets before they left Bohrea Cardinal as well as in almost all of the novels and books they read on Haven – especially those in the romance genre – how strong the urge in the cognates to be physically joined was heightened when a Blood-borne fed directly from their mate’s vein. According to some sources, the urge for sexual intimacy and fulfillment was so great that one or both of the beings were almost always unable to fight it – the results of which could be anything from completely embarrassing to totally fulfilling on a level that only mates would ever experience. Knowledge of the existence of this real and visceral compulsion had been the reason Chiyoto had limited their nourishment of the wounded to only a few draws each – even that small amount would have been more than enough to heal each of them simply because of Chiyoto’s and Runa’s power – and Runa had enchanted their blood to prevent any such reactions or compulsions in both the wounded beings and in Chiyoto.
And when she had tasted even the first drop of Rafal’s blood spill onto her tongue, Chiyoto had felt her body respond forcefully and in such physical ways to their feeding that she could barely control her hips from pressing into Rafal and had to fight to prevent her body from arching into him in any way. Even though she did not recognize any of the sensations save those that compared to her and Rafal’s other heated encounters – not the gentle ones where all he had done was to hold and comfort and reassure her, but the ones like on that first night with his chomp on her hairline and the other two instances against the wall. That is not to say that she did not have the knowledge to imagine what things she wanted her Rafal to do to her – the thoughts of such even now made her body clinch and tighten in places that heretofore had felt no stimulation whatsoever.
Chiyoto fidgeted in her seat trying to readjust the pull in her jonpurs, and she tried to fold her arms across her chest to hide the hard points that her nipples had become.
But, to her dismay, all she had to do was imagine Rafal’s face last night when she had begun feeding, and all the stimulations and the urges practically fizzled to nearly nothing.
Perhaps the sensations were new to him, too, my Treasure.
No, Chiyoto was sure she knew better. Rafal’s had not been the face she would have ever thought to pair with the sensations that wracked her body at the time – she had seen Rafal’s desire for her up against the wall, could almost feel the heat that emanated from both his body and his stare. But, last night, Chiyoto had watched in almost shocked wonder as Rafal’s grip on her mane had
increased along with the clinching of his jaw and his short, breathy intakes.
But he was adamant about mating with you – said that nothing neither you nor I said would change the fact that you were his mate.
Chiyoto had laughed to herself at Runa’s trying to paint a picture that she was slowly beginning to realize could never be completed – Rafal’s pounding of his head backwards against the wall with a look of pure agony on his face was the first clue after his not being able to look at her and clinching his jaw in disgust at his own actions. She had pretended not to see it last night with the sensations that were coursing through her body at the time, but this morning? Well, this morning was a new day, was it not?
And with it came the dawn of true realization.
Chiyoto felt the tears try to come again and, just as she had earlier, she fought to contain them.
But the suffocating hold he had on you all night, my Treasure – the hold within which you slept deeper than you have slept since we left Haven …
And was that not the worst part? Chiyoto had been such a sucker for that hold how many times now? His freshwater scent. His eyes. His commanding and, at the same time, irresistible voice. Rafal had sold himself so well that she had bought into it with her whole heart and soul. Yet, still, when it came right down to it, it appeared that she actually did disgust him with the true nature of who they were – a Blood-borne female hanging on the arm of a resigned Crimson Royal.
Face it – that was not the resigned hold of one disgusted. Stop this!
And, come to think of it, even the pleasant and gentle-hearted Dalis had been withdrawn and not nearly as charismatic at breakfast in the suite while they were still on-board the shuttle prior to docking – he had acted as though he did not know them, as if they were a stranger sitting at the same table in the exact same chair as yesterday.
He did seem to keep his eyes averted, my Treasure, but I felt as though it had to do with his monger’s docile and almost withdrawn actions.
It was probably because Rafal had informed him that we would not be around much longer because the Crowned Prince of Bohrea Cardinal could not stand to be with us … I mean, with me … you know, a Blood-borne female that needs to …. And Dalis is so very gentle that he would never make a scene about …