Barbarian's Bride: Ice Planet Barbarians Book 22

by Dixon, Ruby

  I blink, my tea cup halfway to my lips. "Uh, where did that come from?"

  Asha just smirks. She gets to her feet, snatches my tea cup from my hand, and goes to refill it. "Yes, No-rah. Why do you not tell the girls about your resonance?"

  That shit-stirrer. I arch a brow at Asha for being, well, herself. "I'm just curious how this came up."

  Anna blinks those big eyes—so like her father's—at me. "Analay asked his mama and she told him. And Zalene heard about that and so she asked her mama and her mama told her their story. How come you haven't told Elsa and me your story? With Papa?"

  "You've never asked," I bluster, blushing just a little. I can feel my face getting hotter and hotter, and Asha's smirk of amusement just grows. "Besides, it's not much of a story. We saw each other and boom, resonance."

  Asha holds the tea cup out to me. "Oh, but that is not the full story, is it?"

  I glare at her as I take the cup. She knows as well as I do that the full story is far too dirty for children's ears. She's overheard some of our…nocturnal happenings with those sensitive sa-khui ears of hers, and she knows darn well why I've avoided the subject. "It's not," I admit when both girls turn to look at me. "And maybe if you're both good, I'll tell you the story tonight before bed."

  Elsa and Anna smile at me, straightening in place, and I know they're going into “well-behaved” mode. They play quietly while Asha smirks at me.

  I don't care. I've bought a few hours at least. I sip my tea and try not to think about what to tell my kids. Mommy likes being spanked and held down by Daddy. Isn't that romantic?

  But of course, it wasn't always like that…not that I can tell them those parts either.

  * * *

  The girls are on their best behavior for the rest of the day, much to my chagrin. Anna and Elsa share their toys, play quietly together, and even help me make dinner. Dagesh will be home soon, and I'm ready to see his smiling face. He keeps his hunting nearby during the brutal season, especially now when I'm heavily pregnant, so he can be back every night. Normally he's back before the suns go down, so today must be productive for him. I hope he's not too tired when he gets home, because then I feel guilty that I can't help more. I'm not much of a huntress, so I handle the home stuff and raising the girls. Lately though, he's taken on a lot more in the house because I've been so damn tired, and that just makes me even more guilty. I sit near the fire, drowsing, thinking of my mate's gorgeous smile and the way he crooks it up in the corner when he's watching me and he thinks I haven't noticed…

  "Mama?" Anna tugs on my hand. "You look sleepy. Don't sit near the fire when you're tired or you'll fall in." She uses on me the same imperious tone she uses on her sister.

  I blink, sitting upright. Oh. I look over at Anna. "I'm okay."

  "You're tired," she says firmly in her little tyrant voice. "Go lie down until Papa gets home. We'll stir the stew."

  "Just let it simmer," I tell them, yawning. I push off the enormous rock I'm using as a seat. "Wake me up if you need anything. I'll just take a quick nap."

  Both my girls are there, pushing me into bed, and Elsa tugs the blankets over me as I shift my weight and get comfortable. I mean to only close my eyes for a moment, because even though the girls are far more self-sufficient than I was at their age, they're still young and I should watch them but…

  …I jerk awake to the sound of Dagesh's laughter. It rumbles, smooth and pure and deep, echoing in our small hut. Rubbing my eyes, I try to roll over so I can look at them. My efforts fail spectacularly and all I do is flail on my back like an upside-down turtle.

  "Did we wake you, my pretty one?" Dagesh asks, hovering over the furs and holding a hand out to me.

  I push my hair out of my face—it got loose from my braid while I slept—and take my mate's hand. "How long was I asleep? How long have you been home?"

  "It does not matter," he says in that easy way of his that tells me he's been letting me sleep for a while. He hauls me to my feet, effortlessly strong, and then curls a big arm around my back and puts a hand on my belly. He nuzzles my neck affectionately, his teeth scraping ever so lightly against my skin in the way he knows I love. "How do you feel?"

  Better now. I suck in a breath, because it doesn't matter that I'm ridiculously pregnant and half-asleep and it's been a long day and he smells like sweat and hunting—I'm utterly turned on. I cling to him, wondering if we'll have another night tonight like last night, where I was too big and ungainly to do much, so Dagesh just murmured naughty things in my ear as he worked my clit until I came, quaking in his arms. "I feel good."

  "Yes, you do," he teases. "Food is ready. Are you hungry?"

  "I should be taking care of you," I protest. Some people might not like to be a homemaker, but I really love it. I love making my little hut snug and taking care of my loved ones. I love making sure that everyone around me is comfortable and happy. Maybe that's one reason why I'm so bad at being pregnant—everyone takes care of me instead of the other way around. "Take a seat. Let me fix up a bowl for you."

  Dagesh presses a kiss atop my head and then steers me toward my normal seat by the fire. "Hush. You are tired and your belly is big. Let me take care of you."

  It doesn't matter how much I protest. Within moments, I'm tucked in securely in the most comfortable seat in the hut, a bone-lattice making a firm back for the chair so I can relax against it. Anna tucks a thick fur around my legs while Elsa hands me a bowl of food, and Dagesh moves behind me and begins to braid my hair so it's out of my face. I want to protest again, but my mate's fingers on my scalp feel so good that I bite back a moan.

  It's quiet except for the click of bone spoons against bowls as the girls eat and I manage a few mouthfuls of food.

  "Have we been good enough for a story tonight?" Anna asks.

  Oof. I was hoping they'd forget.

  Dagesh just chuckles, dragging his fingertips along my scalp in a way that sends prickles up my spine. "I wondered why you two were so very quiet. Did you make a deal with your mother?"

  "Mama said we could have the story of how you two resonated if we were good." Elsa holds out her empty bowl. "And I ate all my stew. That means I'm good!"

  "Did she?" My mate sounds amused.

  "Girls, take your bowls and wash them out please?" I say, and they race away to the far side of the hut, where our tiny “kitchen” is set up. The moment they do, I grab Dagesh's big hand. "Help me," I whisper. "They've backed me into a corner and they want to hear our story and all I can think about are the dirty parts."

  He rumbles with amusement, and he sounds sexier than ever. This big guy can still make my toes curl with arousal even after eight turns of the season. We rarely argue, the sex is scorching, and he loves to rub my feet or my head and dote on me. I absolutely scored with this man.

  "I will tell them our story, then," he offers and then leans in to nip at my ear. "But perhaps not all of it."

  Oooh, he's frisky tonight. It doesn't matter that I'm heavily pregnant and feel ungainly—this man is absolutely getting the best hand-job in the world the moment the girls are asleep. I give him my best sultry look…and then my back cramps, ruining the moment.

  "Come and lie down in the furs, my pretty No-rah," my mate says. "It is hard to carry our kit in your belly all day long. Do you want me to rub your feet?"

  I groan, because I really do, but I bet he's tired. "I'm so sorry, Dagesh. I hate for you to wait on me. I'm terrible at being pregnant."

  "You are perfect at it," he reassures me, helping me back over to the furs so I can recline. "In fact, you are so good at it that you did twice as much as everyone else on your very first time."

  A helpless giggle escapes me, because the thought of being “better” than someone else at pregnancy is just the most ridiculous thing ever. Of course, giggling makes my back hurt and then I have to pee. It's always something when you're pregnant.

  Dagesh is patient, though, helping me move around and get comfortable as the girls clean the dishes
and change into their pajamas, still on their best behavior. If I wasn't so mortified at telling them “our” story, I'd use this sort of thing as bait more often, because they've really been great today. Normal days are filled with bickering and fighting over sharing, and the occasional hair pulling. Today they've been angels.

  "Do not worry," my mate reassures me, brushing a kiss over my knuckles as I lie down in the furs and try to get comfortable. "You relax. I will give them a very soft story of how I saw their mother and my khui sang to her." He rubs his lips over my knuckles, a promise in his eyes. Oh yeah, the moment the kids are asleep, I am absolutely touching my mate in all kinds of filthy ways. I don't care how pregnant I am.

  With that, he smiles at me and then turns to the girls. "It is late, and fierce little huntresses need their sleep. Come. Your father will tell you the story your mother promised, yes? And then you will sleep."

  I've never seen the girls scramble into bed so quickly. Amused, I lie on my side, my head cradled against my arm, and watch as Dagesh tucks them with great care into their sleeping nook. He kisses their two bright heads, sits down next to them, and thinks, his tail occasionally flicking against the floor.

  "When I was a young hunter, I thought I would always be alone," he begins, his voice a soothing rumble as it drifts through the hut. "My family all died long ago. My mother died not long after I was born, when the brutal season did not provide enough game for us, and she was weak with feeding me. My father died during the time of the khui sickness. I was young—about Sessah's age when he died—and for many turns of the seasons, I had no one. I lived with the unmated hunters and spent my days in the snows, hunting and tracking and surviving. I did not dare to hope for more."

  His tail flicks lightly against the floor.

  "And then one day, my chief Vektal returned to our cave with a scrawny female clinging to his back and said that his female had companions in need of rescue…"

  I settle in to listen to his story, but my mind can't help but fill in the blanks, the parts that he leaves out, all the filthy, wonderful, sordid bits…

  2

  Eight Years Ago

  DAGESH

  I stand near the entrance to the human's strange cave and try not to be obvious as my khui hums in my chest. The song is distracting, especially since it seems to be affecting my cock. It strains against my leathers, oblivious to the tears of the females who wake up from their strange sleep to find themselves in a new world. If Vektal's new mate Shorshie is to be believed, the land they come from is nothing like this one, and it must be shocking.

  Even more shocking, they will resonate the moment they receive khuis. At least one of them will. I resist the urge to rub my chest, because Vektal is peering at all of us suspiciously. I think he suspects we will carry off the females and make him look bad in front of his new mate.

  I cannot carry off my female. I do not even know which one it is. They all cluster together, their scents intermingling, and it is impossible to tell which one my khui has decided is my mate. I must wait and see. I scan the strange surroundings of the strange cave that the female Shorshie says was part of a cave that fell from the sky. It looks like no cave I know of, the walls a flat, dark gray I have never seen in nature. The interior of the cave smells odd, too, as odd as the flat walls and square shape. Shorshie told Vektal that other peoples—strange-looking peoples—made this cave with their hands, but I do not believe this is true.

  A cave is found. It is not made like a spear or a basket.

  Despite all this strangeness, I resonated the moment the scent of the females brushed my nose. I clutch my spear and try not to stare in their direction even as I guard the entrance to the cave. The cave is set below the snow, buried deep, and the entrance is on the top instead of on the side. I am guarding to ensure that no metlaks drop inside and scare the females who are huddled on the other side of the square cave near a fire.

  I do not dare look in their direction. I keep my tail still, because it will give away my agitation. Pashov jogs up to me, his face eager with excitement. "Did you see how many females there are? Twelve of them! So many—" He pauses as he approaches me, his eyes widening. "Are you—"

  "Say nothing," I hiss, deliberately not looking over at the females. "I do not want to be sent away. Pretend I am silent."

  My friend exhales a deep breath. "You are lucky. My chest is silent." Pashov glances around. "I think most chests are silent. Someone else resonates, but I have not yet determined who."

  To think there are so many females here—a wealth beyond imagining—and only two of us have resonated. It seems a cruel trick of nature, but I remind myself that the females do not yet have their khuis. Things might be different then. "We must wait and see," I say to Pashov. "Until they have their khuis, I must stay back."

  Back…and away from my chief, who prowls like an overprotective snowcat. If he suspects I am resonating, he will send me away until after the sa-kohtsk hunt, so I do not frighten the females. I do not want that. I want to watch them all, to see if I can tell which one it is that has made my khui sing at last.

  I will no longer be alone. The thought is overwhelming in the joy of it. After all this time of having no family, I will create one. I will have a mate. And a kit. My knees grow weak at the thought and I lean heavily on my spear. In this moment, I do not care if Vektal is furious. I need to know which female is mine.

  So I turn to Pashov. "I am going to find out which female is mine," I say to him, my voice low so no others can hear. "Take my spear. Watch the entrance."

  His eyes widen and for a moment, he looks as excited as I am. "How will you know which one it is?" he hisses, switching places with me. "She has no khui yet. There is nothing for yours to respond to."

  "But if my khui is already singing to her, then it should sing louder when I approach, yes?" I reach out and take the heavy fur cloak from his shoulders, wrapping it around my chest to muffle the song that vibrates through me. "I must know, my friend. I must."

  "I understand. Good luck." He gives me a rueful nod. "If anyone asks, I have heard nothing."

  I grin. "There is nothing to hear. Nothing at all." I glance around, wondering how I can approach without making Vektal and his second, Raahosh, suspicious. I need some sort of plan to get near them. I study each human's face, noting how round and soft they are, how smooth their brows. They look so delicate, as a group, and I worry that I will break my mate if I touch her. I look down at my hands. Never before have they seemed too big, but they seem too large now. Whoever I resonate to, I will have to be extremely careful that I do not hurt her.

  I must be the gentlest of mates to my female.

  With this thought in my mind, I glance over at the fire. Tea is warming in a pouch, and I go to fill my skin. If I am offering the females a drink, they will not be able to chase me away, will they? I am simply being helpful. So very, very helpful. Using the bone cup nearby, I fill my skin and then straighten, glancing over at the cluster of females. They huddle together, holding on to one another. A few are wounded and one is weeping as if her heart is broken. I will be happy with any female but…a selfish part of me hopes it is not her. I do not know what to do around tears. I have no mother or sisters and no experience with females. Surely my khui knows this, though.

  I clear my throat, tightening the layers of fur over my chest to muffle my khui's song, and rumble low in my throat. I even rumble low in my chest in an old song that we hum at celebrations, just to try and cover the sound. I feel obvious. Very obvious. Zolaya frowns at me as I walk past. He thinks I am acting strange…because I am. I am not one to sing much, even when the elders lift their voices in song.

  My face burns with embarrassment as I approach the females, holding out the water skin. The tearful one flinches as she sees me, but then she offers me a watery smile and takes the skin. Her fingers brush mine and I feel…nothing. It does not mean she is not my mate, but I think I would feel something? I hope? I nod at her, taking the skin back and moving on to th
e next one. And the next. I study the faces. One female has specks of dirt on her skin, and another has brown skin. Others are in varying shades, their manes going from deep black and curly to pale and straight. It is fascinating. Some of the females are taller and sturdy, with big teats and hips, and others look small and fragile.

  I hope for a husky female, one that is big and strong…but if she is small and weak, I will give her my heart anyhow. I am thrilled to have a mate. Any mate. I know my khui will choose well.

  I am so excited about the prospect of my mate that I almost stumble over the next female. She is outstretched on the floor, her hand behind her, and she glares up at me as I hold out the water skin.

  Our fingers brush as she reaches for it…and my khui thrums louder in my chest, the song so fierce it makes my cock shiver. I stare at her, wide-eyed.

  She is perfect. So perfect.

  I want to grab her hand and haul her to her feet. I want to run my hands all over her and reassure myself she is well, that she has not been hurt. I want to learn her body with my touch.

  I want to fulfill resonance. Right now.

  Biting back a groan, I cast one last look at her and then force myself to pull away. She has yellow streaks in her mane. She has large teats and a small build. She has strange brown eyes and a round face and looked at me without fear. There was curiosity there—beneath all the glaring—and I cannot wait to speak to her. I cannot wait to hear her name.

  But…I cannot do so right now. I will not be able to control myself. I stagger back to the entrance of the small, strange cave and to Pashov.

  He watches me with wide eyes. "Did you find her?"

  I nod, not trusting my voice. "I…cannot stay in here. I need to go out." I grab the tall lip of the cave's entrance and haul myself up, out into the refreshing snow. Out here, there is no overwhelming scent of humans, no alluring resonance mate, no nothing. Just snow and wind and the occasional tree. I take several deep breaths, trying to calm myself, and it is useless. My cock feels heavy like stone, and the ache in my body tells me to go back down into the strange cave of the humans, to snatch my female away from the others, and take her to a private corner where I can shove her thighs apart and sink deep.