“Metlaks attacked me?”

“You do not remember?”

I rack my brain, trying to recall. All I remember is walking and thinking of my mate. Thinking ravenous, hungry, needy things about my mate. “Perhaps…I was distracted?”

“One hit you on the head from behind. They knocked you out.” She strokes the fluffy face of the creature, gazing down at it before smiling over at me. “Does it hurt?”

It does. I touch my brow and find it covered with tight leather bindings. “I should have been more careful.”

“They are starving and clever, these metlaks. I do not think you could have imagined that they would attack you to steal your pack.”

She is right; that does not sound like typical metlak behavior. I frown to myself and resist the urge to rub my aching forehead as I move toward the fire to sit next to her. “Why did they want my pack?”

“I think they have been living in this cave.” She gestures around her. “It was a filthy mess when I arrived, and I found this little one here. They must have left it behind to go hunting, and I think when they saw you, they assumed you would have more food. The supplies here have been eaten or ruined.” She gets to her feet and hands me the bundle in her arms. “Hold him while I put fresh tea on for you.”

I take the metlak kit from her, trying not to frown down at it. It is clear to me that Asha is attached to the creature. I have never liked metlaks, and like them even less now that I have been told they attacked me. But looking down at the small kit in my arms as it yawns sleepily and waves a small fist, I see why she is doting on it. Though it is ugly and covered in fur, it is a helpless kit. Asha has too soft of a heart to do anything but love it.

As if she can hear my thoughts, she moves to my side and begins to fuss with the bandages on my brow. It puts her teats at level with my eyes, and I can hear the hum of her khui through her skin. She smells like soapberries and sweat and arousal, and my cock stirs in response. I force myself to remain still while she checks my brow.

“The wound has closed,” Asha says, pleased. “Good. It is swollen but should go down in a few days. You will need to get a lot of sleep. I want you feeling better as quickly as possible so we can return to the vee-lage.”

She is talking as if it is already decided, which surprises me. I did not anticipate my reunion with Asha to be so…calm. I expected fire and anger. “You wish to return to the vee-lage with me? You are not mad?”

“Oh, I am furious with you,” Asha says, her tone sweet despite her words. “But I am not going to yell and shake my fist at you today. Not when I thought I had lost you.” She chokes on the words and then swallows hard.

I reach out and caress her tail, dragging my fingers down the smooth length of it.

She jerks out of my grip, her tail flicking angrily. “I did not say I was not mad. Do not think I have forgotten. But I am not going to spew my anger when there is a little one and you have a head injury.” She casts me a heated look and then moves to the fire, grabbing her tea pouch and shaking far too many leaves into the water.

She is agitated, my mate. I hope it is because she worries over me. That is a nice thought. I cannot be mad at her subtle fury, though. This is the most…alive I have seen Asha in so many moons. Let her focus her anger on me. If it brings the spark back to her eyes, I will take it gladly.

The little one in my arms chirps, and I look down at it. It blinks at me, just like a sa-khui infant. Strange. I have never thought of the metlak as people, but I know several humans have convinced their mates that the creatures are intelligent. I do not know if I believe this, but I can see why Asha is fascinated by the kit. “It is much cleaner than its parents,” I tell her absently, thinking of every other metlak I have ever seen. To a one, they are filthy, smelly creatures.

“I gave him a bath,” Asha says, stirring the tea. “He smelled foul when I found him.”

“And it is a boy?”

She nods, and the soft smile curves her mouth again. “I have been calling him Shasak.”

I grunt. It means ‘little spark.’ “And what will you do with Shasak? Release him into the wild?”

“Of course not. He is a kit. He cannot take care of himself. I will keep him and protect him.” When I give her an incredulous look, she shrugs. “If Farli can raise a dvisti, I can surely raise a metlak kit?”

I…have no answer for that. The idea is strange, but the humans have put a lot of strange ideas into our tribe ever since they arrived. “If it makes you happy, then you should keep it,” I tell her. I will support her in this.

Her mouth twitches as she scoops tea into a cup. “I did not ask for permission. You are no longer my mate. You do not live with me. I can do as I please.”

My heart sinks at her smiling words, delivered with the force of a spear-throw. “I see.”

“You do not, but I do not wish to talk about it today.” She moves toward me and sits down with the cup of tea, holding it gently in her hands. “Tomorrow, I will be angry at you. Today, I am grateful you are alive.”

“Tomorrow, we will talk then,” I say, adjusting the kit against my side and taking the cup with my free hand. “Thank you for coming after me. If you had not, I might be dead.”

Her face tightens. “I know.” Her hand goes to my knee and she touches me.

Just once, but it is enough for now.

She does not hate me. She is upset with me, and I sense I have hurt her, but she does not hate me. I can fix this, then. Whatever it is, I can make it better between us. And then I can claim my mate once more.

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13

CLAIRE

“Bek,” I say, entering the hunters’ lodge. “What are you doing?”

He looks up from the spear he is sharpening, a frown on his face. “I am working on my weapons. What does it look like I am doing?”

I’m not fooled by his efforts to look busy. I know I saw him retreat into this house, and his tail is twitching too hard for me to think he’s just sitting here, relaxing and working on his weapons. I call bullshit on that. “Can we talk?”

Bek shrugs and returns to work on his spear, grazing his sharpening stone along the deadly point. “What is there to say?”

Is he kidding? I have a million things to say to him. Things like, “What on earth are you doing?” and, “Why are you giving me presents when we’re not mated?” and, “Don’t you realize I have a resonance mate and will never be with you again?” and, “I thought you hated me,” and a dozen other related questions that all bubble up in my brain. I cross my arms and study him, a bit flummoxed. I know Bek pretty well (being that we were lovers and all once upon a time), and I know that if I push at him and he doesn’t want to answer, he’ll just shut down entirely. I’ve got to steer away from accusing him. Bek has a lot of pride.

I think for a moment longer, and then decide to avoid subtlety. “Warrek’s a terrible messenger, you know. He totally gave you away.”

I half expect him to get annoyed, but Bek only smiles.

Then I realize it. “You sent Warrek deliberately, didn’t you?” The gentle hunter has zero malice in his body, but also zero subterfuge. Warrek would be the last person I would pick to do something sneaky for me. And Bek is too clever to let his plans go off the rails because of a buddy. “You wanted to be found out.”

Scraaaape. Scraaaaaape. He doesn’t look up from sharpening his tools, but his tail grows more agitated.

“Do you not understand the game?” I ask gently, since he’s not offering me much in the way of help. “Your secret gift person is Borran, right?”