Callie's Catastrophe: Icehome Book 9

by Dixon, Ruby

  “We don’t like each other,” I point out. “You’re always yelling at me and demanding things.”

  “That is because you are fighting resonance.” There’s a hint of the old stubbornness returning to his tone. “There is no point.”

  “So you think I shouldn’t get any say over my own body? Cool, cool. I see how it is.”

  “That is not it.” His frown grows deeper. “I just wish to be your mate.”

  “Can I point out again that we don’t like each other? We barely even know each other.” I sure didn’t know he was a neat freak or a secret cuddler…or that he’s so Slytherin that he’d drug a girl to drag her into the mountains.

  “We will learn to like each other after resonance,” he points out stubbornly.

  I shake my head. "I don't know where you got that idea, but it's wrong. You ever talk to Raahosh?"

  "Why?"

  "His parents hated each other from the moment they resonated until they died. They never liked one another."

  His frown deepens. "That is not true."

  "Why would Raahosh lie?"

  M'tok says nothing, but I can see on his face that he's disturbed at this. Did it truly never occur to him that resonance doesn't mean happy ever after? That it can just mean a bond forced between two people who can't stand each other? I never took the guy to be such a romantic but maybe he is. Who knows.

  My teeth chatter again, hard, and his expression changes to one of concern. "You should take off your tunic, let me warm you with my skin."

  I push against his chest, even though my hands are still tucked into the tunic. "You'd like that, wouldn't you? Ain't happening."

  "You would rather be cold?"

  "Than naked with you? Yup, I would." I don't pull my hands out of his clothing, though. I'm not that much of a masochist.

  His warm hand squeezes on my feet. "You do not like being touched, then? Do you not like pleasure?"

  I roll my eyes. So we're going to this, now? I don't want to be boned by him so clearly I don't want to be boned by anyone? Typical man. "I like being touched plenty, thank you. Just not from you."

  M'tok shakes his head. "I do not understand why you hate me so much. What have I done to earn your wrath?"

  "Oh please." When he continues to stare at me, I scowl in his direction. "You seriously think you haven't done anything?"

  He shrugs, and I feel his muscles ripple under my cold hands even as his khui sings to mine. "I know we have argued, but I feel you hated me ever since I laid eyes on you, and there is no reason behind that. Nothing I do makes you happy. I would know what I have done to make you so angry."

  "Like you don't know? Cabron, you called me names the moment you saw me!"

  He gives me a long, hard stare. "I did no such thing."

  "Bullshit. You absolutely did. You said I was fucking 'squat,' for starters." Not short, not fat, but squat. It's the most insulting combination of short AND fat and it echoes in my head every time I see his smug face.

  Squat. Fuck this guy. I rip my hands out of his shirt and tuck them under my own. I suddenly don't want to be touching him at all anymore.

  When I try to get up from his lap, though, he grabs my arm and hauls me back down against him. "But you are squat."

  “Squat implies that I’m short and fat—”

  “You are very short compared to me,” he says, grinning, and when I try to push him away, he keeps holding onto me. His tail loops around my waist as if lightly holding me as well. “All of your people are.”

  “Don’t try to make it sound reasonable—”

  “I do not know what you mean by ‘fat’ though. Fat is the tastiest part of the meat. It makes it sound like something I wish to eat.” His eyes narrow and the look he gives me is positively lascivious. “So tell me why it is wrong.”

  “It’s not nice to call someone fat,” I say, ignoring the hot flush of my cheeks. “It implies there’s something wrong with the way I look.”

  That makes him frown, and for a moment he looks genuinely confused. “What would be wrong with the way you look?”

  Do I have to spell it out for this guy? “Because I’m bigger than other women?”

  He snorts, his mouth twisting into a wry smile. “You are not.”

  I’m not sure if he’s being dense or flattering. “You didn’t notice that my, uh, curves are bigger than a lot of girls?” I don’t want to say ‘butt’ or ‘breasts’ in front of him because that feels as if it invites him to look me up and down. Funny how I’m being shy and picking my words around a man who literally tries to show me his dick every time he talks to me.

  His lips curve. “Oh, I have noticed. If your human males think this is a problem then they are fools.”

  He’s too good at deflecting my arguments. I refuse to let myself be flattered by him. “You also called me leatherfaced.”

  This time, he reaches up and touches my cheek before I can stop him. “Are you not? Your skin is the perfect shade of a finely cured hide.”

  A hide.

  A fucking hide.

  I’m utterly flummoxed.

  He doesn’t think I’m weathered or ugly. He thinks I’m the same shade as an animal hide. And the way he’s looking at me? It’s definitely a compliment. I can feel his arousal pressing against my leg, and the way he’s gently brushing his knuckles over my cheek? It’s not the insult I thought it was.

  I feel stupid. Really stupid. Of course he doesn’t think of things the same way we do. I don’t know if I believe him entirely, but his rational answers make sense. At home I’d be compared to “caramel” or some food item. Here, where caramel doesn’t exist, I’m the perfect shade of…animal hide.

  Of leather.

  He takes my silence in and then traces a finger along my jaw. I glare at him, but I don’t push him away. I tell myself it’s because I’d have to slide my hands back out of my tunic, not because I like his touch. I hate all of him. I do.

  “I did not mean to insult you,” M’tok murmurs, his voice low and seductive. “I like your leather face and your small, round body.”

  Hearing those words sends a shudder of pleasure deep to my core. “You’re lying.”

  “You are different looking than I pictured,” he admits. “I did not know what to expect when I first resonated. But I am not displeased by anything.”

  Uh huh. “Even my anger?”

  He gives me a sly look. “Now I know why you are angry. I understand more now.”

  I shake my head again. It’s easy to get distracted by his closeness, by the seductive note in his voice and the gentle way he’s touching me. “It’s not just that. You’re stubborn—”

  “As are you,” he says easily.

  “—And you fucking drugged me!”

  M’tok shrugs. “I am not proud of it and I did not know it would affect you so much. I would not do it again if I had the choice. But if it will make you feel better, you can drug me.”

  That makes me pause. “I can?”

  He nods. “Let us get to safety first, and then you can put visshek in my tea to get even.”

  I hate that he’s so reasonable about this. I want to be angry, but it’s like he won’t let me. Even so, I scowl at him. I’m not that easy to win over.

  I’m not.

  12

  M’TOK

  I watch C’lie as she sleeps, her shoulders shivering despite the pile of blankets atop her. Even though there is a fire and she is covered from head to toe, she still quakes from the cold. It bothers me. I am her mate; I am the one responsible for taking care of her, and it is my fault she is spending a night out in the open like this, chilled.

  I know she will hate it, but I pull her against me and drag the blankets over the two of us. My cock immediately stiffens when it comes into contact with her rounded backside, but C’lie does not wake from sleep. She mumbles something and presses back against me, burrowing closer to my warmth. I wrap my arms around her and hold her close, pleased when her shivering stops. The ache

in my cock does not, but at least that one is easier to ignore.

  Tonight was…interesting.

  I learned much of C’lie and her thoughts as she spoke to me. Now I know why she is so angry. Now I know why her lip curls with disgust and her words are full of fury when she talks to me. She thinks I find her disgusting to look at and call her cruel things behind her back. She thinks I wish to mate with her despite all these things and it makes her angry.

  Somewhere under C’lie’s anger, there is a lot of hurt.

  This hurt seeps out in her tone when she frowns at me, and it is in her eyes when she thinks I do not pay attention. Now that I can be around her all the time, it is easy to see. My mother used to say that those that feel too much hurt the worst, and I think this is my C’lie. Her soft heart has been bruised and beaten, and so she attacks like a wounded kaari, determined to lash out.

  She mumbles in her sleep and I stroke her mane, my khui humming its usual bold song. My cock aches with incessant need, but somehow, holding her this night makes everything all right. In my eyes, resonance is going from “never” to “possibility” and relief will be soon. As I stroke her hair, I think on her words, on her expressions, on the way her body moves. I think of her shivering and how she worked so hard to keep up with me. She did not complain about the long journey uphill, even though it was more treacherous than I had expected.

  Her heart may be soft, but the rest of C’lie is strong.

  Even so, I will find her a warmer place to sleep. A better shelter. One with enough room for two sets of furs for at least a few nights.

  C’lie is going to be furious when she realizes I did not get lost but deliberately meant to take her deeper into the mountains. It has been my plan all along. So I must have a warm, secure place for her to sleep so she does not shiver even as she stews with anger.

  It is the least I can do for my soft mate.

  * * *

  The next morning, I wake early and make hot tea and warm food over the fire before she opens her eyes. C’lie yawns and stretches her arms overhead while I roll up the furs and prepare for this day’s hike farther into the mountains.

  “Did you sleep next to me?” she asks as she makes herself a cup of tea.

  I grunt.

  I know it is not an answer. It is more of an acknowledgment that I heard her words, but C’lie does not pursue it further. She is silent, lost in thought as she eats the food I prepared for her and then puts on her layers of leathers. I break down the tent when we are ready to go and all else is packed, and C’lie bundles up the leather while I lash the supports together into an easy to carry bundle.

  The wind picks up again and I take my cloak off my shoulders, tucking it around her.

  “What about you?” she protests. There is a sour note in her voice as if she wants to fight.

  “I must carry the pack,” I demonstrate, and shrug it onto my shoulders. “There is no place for the cloak, too.” In truth, there is room for the cloak, but I would rather it be around her shoulders.

  “Uh huh,” she says, as if she doesn’t quite believe me, but she takes it and only bats my hands away half-heartedly as I tuck it tightly around her.

  “Are you ready to go?” I ask. “Boots dry?”

  C’lie gives me a thoughtful look. “Maybe we should go down the mountain instead of farther up this path?”

  I pretend to consider this, then gesture ahead of us. “No. I am certain the path is this way.”

  She puts her hands on her hips, her expression changing to one of exasperation. “Are you going to be stubborn again?”

  “Yes.” I smile. “Are you?”

  To my surprise, she laughs. Loudly. It makes her pretty face light up and a sparkle gleam in her eyes.

  It takes everything I have not to drop to my knees at the sight of her beauty. How did she ever think I would find her unappealing? Even now, my cock is raging with need and my khui’s song threatens to make me go mad. I hunger for my mate.

  I must be staring too long. Her laughter dies and the look she gives me is wary instead. It destroys the lust I feel instantly. The last thing I want is for C’lie to be afraid of me. I prefer her anger to her fear. I prefer anything to her fear.

  “Come,” I tell her, my tone abrupt. “We are going farther.”

  “Up the mountain?” She sighs heavily, tucking my cloak tighter around her shoulders.

  “Up the mountain,” I agree. “It is as the hyoo-mans say, a short-cup.”

  “Shortcut.” She rolls her eyes. “I’m pretty sure shortcuts don’t go uphill but whatever. You’re the one in charge.”

  * * *

  Despite C’lie’s early hesitation, she does not complain even when the snow begins to fall again and the skies grow dark with foul weather. The air grows cold to breathe in, and I briefly wonder if we should turn around and head back to one of the hunter caves scattered all over the valleys below. It would seem safer…and yet they would find us and take C’lie from me in a heartbeat.

  And she smiled at me this morning. Laughed at my words.

  I do not want to go back. If she is in danger, I will return in a heartbeat. I watch her closely and though her cheeks and nose are red, she stays close to me and does not seem bothered more than usual. So I keep going, farther up the mountain, farther than the sa-khui hunters ever go, because the air is colder here and the game less plentiful. But since they will not come here, that is where we will hide.

  I help C’lie maneuver along the steep, icy paths. The plants here are surprisingly plentiful, small, low-lying scrubby bushes instead of the tall, leafy trees of my home island. The leaves here are nothing but sharp needles and it makes holding onto plants to anchor oneself difficult. I keep a hand free to help C’lie, but I am so focused on a safe path for her that I do not pay attention to anything but the next few steps.

  C’lie grabs my sleeve and points at something in the distance. “Do you see that?”

  I shield my eyes from the biting wind and peer off at where she points. There is a large, dark triangular hole alongside one of the cliffs walls, and it almost seems as if a path curves around the inhospitable mountainside directly toward it.

  A cave.

  This high up, a cave is both welcome and worrying. I think of the massive skyclaw that recently stole away a full-grown hunter—Old Grandfather. I do not want to pull C’lie into a skyclaw nest, but a large cave would be a welcome place to hide out until the weather breaks…or longer. I nod at her. “I see it. Wait here.”

  “Here? Why?” She sputters a protest as I shrug off my pack and pull my spear free from its bindings.

  “It is safer.”

  “I’m on the side of a damn mountain,” C’lie says. “You think if something eats you I’ll be any safer right here? One wrong step and I could fall off.” She gestures dramatically at the steep slopes we have been climbing and…she is not wrong. A pebble skids past her boot and tumbles down far below, as if emphasizing this point.

  I consider for a moment, and then shake my head. “Stay here. If I have to fight something to take the cave for us, I will do better not worrying about you or wearing the pack.”

  “Okay, now you’re talking sense at least,” she grumbles, then holds her hand out. “Can I have a knife at least? For protection?”

  I pull one from a sheath in my boot and offer it to her. “Be safe. I will be very angry if I find you a nice cave and you run away and into danger.”

  “First of all, I found the cave,” C’lie says as she plucks the knife from my grip, her gloved fingers brushing against my bare ones. “And second of all, the only thing in danger of this knife is your throat.”

  I laugh, thinking of how she straddled me and held it against my chin. Big words, but C’lie is soft at heart. She could no more cut my throat than she could scale this mountain with her short hyoo-man legs. “I would welcome you sitting on my chest again, C’lie. But let me find you a warm spot to sleep first.”

  Her cheeks seem to get redder. She kicks my bag over and thumps down on it, mock-glaring up at me. I know she is not truly angry. She might pretend it, but the gleam is still in her eyes. I want that gleam there forever.

  I point at the pack in an imperious manner. “Stay there. I know you are not good at listening, but do as I say.”

  She snorts and rolls her eyes at me, but she does not get up.

  Good.

  I make my way toward the cave as quietly as possible, avoiding the shrubs with their needle-leaves. Off in the distance, I see shaggy, four-legged creatures moving along the crags of the steepest parts of the mountain, but they bound away when the pebbles slip and make my presence known. If all we have to worry about is smaller, furrier dvisti cousins, then there is nothing to fear.

  But a cave that large would attract any predator in this area. I must make certain it is safe before I bring my mate anywhere near it. If it is not, I will take her back down the mountain and find somewhere new for us to hide. I did not miss the note of yearning in her voice when she mentioned the cave—she wants out of this cold wind and to be done with this endless hiking. I do not blame her. I knew even before I snatched her from the camp that C’lie is one that prefers to sit near a warm fire instead of adventure in the snow. Some of the females have taken to hunting with fierce interest, and some have avoided it. C’lie is one of the avoiders.

  She avoided hunting almost as much as she avoided me, and the thought makes me smirk into the bitter wind.

  To my relief, the cave is empty of all creatures. There is old scat on the stone floor, and pile after pile of trash that indicates that an entire nest of creatures housed here recently, but they are gone, leaving behind only rotted carcasses of their meals and tufts of dirty white fur and a stink that seems to permeate down to my bones. I hold my nose and explore the large cave, camouflaging to match the shadows, but there is nothing to be found but stink.

  The cave will need cleaning, but it is ours.

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