I hold an arm out for her, and she takes my wrist carefully. Dakota glances up at me as she wipes my skin. “The others made a room for us so we can sleep together.”

It’s impossible for me to tell how I am supposed to respond.”…yes? Is good?”

“Oh, it’s good.” She chuckles. “It just surprised me is all. We don’t have to escape every time we want to touch each other, just be a little quieter.”

Her touch is gentle, and she wipes my skin clean with tender, thorough motions. It makes me feel like I am her prized possession, and I like the feeling. “Murr quiet,” I murmur, thinking of last night. “Dakota not.”

She chuckles, smacking me lightly with the wet cloth. “I can be quiet.” Her gaze flicks up to my face and she hesitates. “Do you have any regrets?”

Regrets? Over what? I must be misunderstanding something. “Explain.”

Dakota hesitates, then begins to speak. “You and I being together. Taking me as your mate. I just don’t want you to have regrets after last night.”

“Why regret Dakota?” I still feel as if I am missing something in this conversation. “Murr wife Dakota.”

“Yes, but as Aggie pointed out, I’m a bit of a mess. I’m anxious and I worry over everything. And I have a daughter. And I guess two old ladies, too. I just don’t want you to feel like you’ve become trapped into a situation.”

“No trap.” Everything she has mentioned, she acts as if they are bad things instead of things that bring me joy. “Murr know Rabbit. Know Aggie and Dottie. Know Stella.”

She laughs again, her expression rueful. “Stella is actually the least problematic of the three.”

I take the wet towel from her hands, and this time, I pull her into my arms. She doesn’t resist, tucking her head against my chest. “Murr happy,” I tell her, stroking her mane. “Happy yesterday, big happy today.”

“Happier,” she corrects. “And I’m glad. I love you. I just wanted to make sure.”

“Tonight, Murr show,” I tell her, tipping her chin up with a shorn claw so I can see her strange pale face I’ve come to appreciate so much. “Murr kiss everywhere. Murr hold wife. Big happier.”

“You know what? Your English is close enough.” She smiles up at me and tilts her head ever so slightly, in the way that tells me she wants a kiss. “I’m glad you picked me, even if I don’t understand it sometimes.”

“Murr always pick Dakota,” I reassure her. She has been alone for so long it will take her time to realize I am not going anywhere. I lean in and brush my lips over hers, and her mouth is as sweet as it was hours ago. Sweeter, even.

She smiles up at me between kisses. “I’m going to hold you to that. Also, how do you feel about shorts?”

…shorts?

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CHAPTER 78

MURR

Shorts are terrible.

They are apparently a thing that human males wear, and Rabbit has retrieved several pairs from a nearby building for me to try on. Dakota has given them to me, and again, I am baffled by the amount of discomfort these humans endure just to cover their bodies from one another. Shorts are two tubes of material sewn together, and one is to put a leg into each hole and wear them like so. But on most of the shorts, the leg holes are far too tight and end up ripping. The third pair goes over my hips and does not cinch my thighs like a tourniquet, but the seam that goes between my thighs rubs and chafes against my cock as I try to walk, and traps everything. I have to stop every few steps to adjust where I am being pinched.

Rabbit looks so happy that I am wearing her gift that I say none of this, however.

I endure the pinching and misery as we sit around the fire. The fresh meat is cooked up, and the females discuss fresh vegetables. There are none, but they are hoping for greens to come up from Dakota’s little pots. “I’ve been craving tomatoes,” my mate says, a blissful look on her face.

Hmm. Perhaps I can help her find them somehow. I must remember to ask what a “tomatoes” is.

The talk drifts on, and Aggie barks out questions, trying to get answers to her “cross words.” Dottie rubs her sticks together to make patterns in her threads, and then Dakota pulls out a book and reads something called a “fairy tale” aloud to the others. It is about a little man with a long name that makes a woman spin straw into gold. I only half listen, as I am more fascinated by watching my mate’s expressions as she reads aloud. Her eyes gleam in the firelight and her mouth moves as she speaks, and I pet the nearby cats that have joined us, watch my mate, and feel utter contentment.

It does not matter that the Rift is not open, or that I have lost my people. As long as I have Dakota, I do not care.

As if she can sense my thoughts, she looks up from her book and smiles at me. I send her a wave of affection, knowing she won’t be able to feel it, but wanting it anyhow.

“That’s all for me,” Dakota says, closing the book as she finishes the story. She yawns dramatically, setting off a series of yawns in the cats around us. Rabbit has one in her lap and a kitten held up against the crook of her neck. “We should all head to bed. If the weather’s good, maybe we can go forage for some greens. There might be dandelions left in the area and I could go for a salad.”

Rabbit closes her eyes and makes a happy face. “I would kill for a salad.”

Is this something I can get for them? Is it a bird of some kind? They are less easy to pick off than the deer or cattle, but I don’t mind a challenge. “Murr hunt salad?”

The females all chuckle.

“It’s not something you hunt!” Rabbit declares.

“I’ll tell you about it tomorrow,” Dakota says, and gets to her feet. “For now, bedtime.” And she looks at me with expectation on her face, asking me to join her.

I rise, displacing the cats that have piled themselves against me to share in my warmth, and the shorts pinch against my cock again. With a wince, I hobble forward and follow my mate.

The humans all sing out choruses of “good night” and “don’t let the bed bugs bite,” and Aggie calls out something nonsensical about riding and champion bulls and makes Dakota emit a strangled sound. She still smells happy, though, so I take her hand and let her lead me into the darkness of the building, where our quarters are now set up.

When we’re in our quarters, Dakota draws a stiff, rustling curtain across. “Shower curtain, but it acts as a door,” she says, and seems pleased by it. “Are you all right? You’ve been making some weird faces tonight.”

“Shorts,” is all I say, and adjust myself with a grimace.

Dakota huffs with amusement, and her hands go to the waistband of the hated clothing. “Maybe more kilts are best for you. I bet I can make you some better ones. You don’t have to wear the shorts.”

Now that is a relief. I pull them off with a vicious rip, enjoying the sound of the fabric tearing.

“We’ll go shopping tomorrow,” she tells me, her arms sliding around my waist. “We’ll look for food, and some plain fabric, and maybe more towels.”

“Towels?” I echo. “Explain?”

She moves in, pulling me down so that she can nibble on my jaw. “To put underneath us during sex. So we don’t ruin the blankets.”

Aha. “Clever mate.”

“Indeed.” Her tiny teeth scrape against my skin, sending a shiver along my spine. Oh, I like it when she bites me.

I pick her up by the hips and carry her the two quick steps to the bedding and set her down on the pile of blankets. “Now Dakota quiet?” I whisper, sliding my hand under her shirt to caress her breast. “Be good.”

“I can be quiet,” she promises.