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Stay safe, Sisip.
My blood pumped thick and heavy as the ear-piercing shriek of the hellsna shattered the silence of the cave. No matter how often I’d heard its call, my response remained the same—seek and destroy. The dorat turned as gray as my skin, and her tail clung around my shoulder and under my armpit like a rigid strap.
I typed a quick response to Sisip then hurried back to Ginger. Almost two more rotations in this cave before she would receive help. I should have been thankful we’d found shelter, but my lack of control over the situation made my temples throb. Dependence on others for help didn’t come easy to me.
My feet pounded through the tunnel. Hiti mushroom. I exhaled. If I could find some hiti mushrooms, that would bring down her fever. Moments later, I scoured the darkest, wettest recesses of the cave for the large heart-shaped fungus. And just as on Yagras, I found it in a stacked column buried in the far reaches of a narrow, drippy crevasse. Arm smeared in slime, I smiled at my haul and double-timed it back to Ginger, chewing on a fruity chunk.
I slipped the vines open, confirmed with my own two eyes that Ginger was breathing and blew out a breath. Her hair shone extra bright against the dark shadows of her face, where she slept. The dorat scurried to my pile of clothes, circled a few times, then curled into a ball that disappeared under a bushy tail. I sighed. If only sleep came that easily.
Into a flower full of water, I spat the hiti mushroom I’d been masticating, then shuffled to Ginger’s side. Cross-legged, I leaned against the wall of our little cave as she tossed and turned before my eyes.
“Ginger,” I whispered, knowing she hated my loud voice. “Wake up. I have medicine.”
She stirred and absently swatted in my direction, muttering, “Tired. Later.” Then she rolled to her other side.
When I leaned forward and grasped her under the arms, she let out a low groan. With one bent arm, I pulled her into my lap and pressed the flower to her lips. Her skin was clammy to the touch, her colorful tank top clinging to it. Against the exploding star pattern, her paleness stood out in sharp relief.
“Jeez,” she spluttered, smacking me in the chest. After grasping the flower herself, she guided the drink to her mouth. Before it was empty, she rested her head against my chest as if exhausted by completing the simple task. “How long have we been here?”
I forced my hands to my thighs to avoid running them over her silvery hair. So much for staying away. “Almost a rotation. You need to finish. There is medicine in there.” I pressed the flower back to her cracked lips.
“Strangely, this tastes like grapes.” She finished drinking and leaned into me. “You’re not trying to poison me or anything, are ya?”
Instead of running from me, she sank deeper into my chest, and I had to force my rumba to quiet. “What’s the matter with you?” My too-loud voice made her jerk, and she turned her glassy eyes to mine.
“Straight to the point, huh,” she joked weakly, her breathing too shallow. Her head dropped to my chest. I thought she’d fallen asleep and was about to run my palm over her long hair when she muttered, “I don’t have my medicine with me.”
Medicine. What does she need medicine for?
Blant it. I stroked her hair anyway, and besides the odd twig tangled in it, the silky weight floated through my fingers. It felt sinfully addictive.
She shuddered at the contact. “That’s nice, JayJay.”
“What’s the medicine for?” I continued to stroke her hair.
“My blood.” Half-asleep, she was much more forthcoming than usual.
She needs medicine for her blood?
She sank deeper into my chest. “JayJay, when are we going home?”
Did she know her fingers scratched lightly over my thigh? It took me a moment to register her words, but my heart swelled when they landed. She asked that of me as if she was one hundred percent confident in my ability to get her home. Her confidence bolstered my spirits, and a glimpse of the male I was before my banishment to Tern shone through. A male of value.
Before I had a chance to reply, she whimpered and grabbed her leg, which was slung sideways over one of my thighs. Tucking her head back into my chest and her body into the fold of my arm, I massaged the muscle spasm with my thumb until it eased. The strength and definition in her small legs surprised me. She fell asleep as a female who trusted her mate would.
I marveled at the feeling of rightness that overcame me when she settled in my lap, at how her linnea scent enticed me, but most of all, I marveled at how protective I was of her now that every part of her pressed against me. Each time she cried out in pain, I massaged her rigid muscle until it went lax under my gentle ministrations. Eventually, her soft puffs of breath against my chest lulled me to sleep.
Dreams of the old ways, when Rock Dwellers had true mates, came to me. Visions of lifelong companionship, strength, devotion and unconditional love. When I woke, the story of how our females had been lost filled my mind as if it had just taken place. One hundred annums past, a volcano had erupted. The prevailing wind had sent the deadly volcanic ash directly toward the coast, where females of birthing age, new matas and their younglings were schooled. The fine particles had been too much for their lungs to handle. Only the strongest had survived. An impressive linnea forest lay there now, one tree planted for each departed soul. Now, females mated out of obligation. They nolonger sought their true mates, instead selecting the fittest males for life companions, those with the most resources available to raise younglings.
I hadn’t expected a night with a female in my arms to result in such bone-deep contentment. Was this what those selected felt?
Ginger stirred in my lap. She’s your true mate. Claim her. I frowned, silencing my inner voice. Ginger had made it clear after my disastrous kiss that she didn’t feel the way a mate did.
Even as an esteemed member of Yagras’ guard, a female was something I’d never dreamed possible. After my exile to this remote outpost, a life companion was about as likely to appear as a mistforest—a true mate even more unlikely. They existed solely in historic Rock Dweller tomes now. Not even Sully and TeyTey were true mates, and they were about as happy a couple as I’d ever seen.
Ginger’s arms reached above her in a languid stretch, and I winced when her knuckle grazed the open cut behind my ear. I groaned as she carelessly climbed on my thigh and kneeled. With tender fingers, she probed the injured area.
“Morning.” Her sleep-filled voice ran over me like a soft touch. The swells of her breasts pressed against my chest when she leaned in. Her linnea scent swamped me, and cupping her lower back was second nature.
