Callie's Catastrophe: Icehome Book 9

by Dixon, Ruby

  “Yeah,” Calida says as our hut comes into view. “Turns out that the guy I supposedly ran off with? Seems that he’s supposed to be good with directions. Never gets lost, T’chai says.”

  “Huh.” I help her up the step to the hut, then join her, shaking off my boots before heading inside after her.

  “Seems like that guy also would never make a stupid move like breaking the ice under his feet. Isn’t that interesting?”

  “Very.” I want to pull her into my arms, but my limbs are heavy and my eyes are closing. I stumble toward our furs and flop onto my back, tired.

  I feel my mate sit at my side, her hands going to my belt in the next moment. “You lied to me, didn’t you? Admit it.”

  “I do admit it,” I say, my words slow. “Are you mad?”

  “I should be extremely pissed, but the part I’m most angry about is that you didn’t tell me.” She slides one leg over my hips and then rubs her cunt against my groin. “I told you I was all in when we decided to do this resonance thing, but you still kept secrets from me. That’s a no-no in my book. You should have told me so we could talk about it. Like it’s any surprise to me that you’re a sneaky bastard?” She snorts, and my vision of her doubles when I try to focus on her. “You’re a Slytherin. It’s in your blood.”

  “I…am sorry.” I mean it, too. I did not want her to feel as if she was not included. “I did not tell you…because I did not want to lose you…again.”

  “Well, now you’re gonna pay for it, cabron.” Through the haze in my mind, I see my mate smile down at me. “I’m gonna get you all worked up on visshek and not give you any relief until I decide to.” She taps my chin with her fingertip. “You’re lucky that I find it hot when you’re a sneaky son of a bitch.”

  I laugh. Or try to. It comes out as a huff. “visshek…does not work…same…on me as you.”

  “No?” She rubs her cunt against my cock again, and mutters something in her language when she realizes I am not getting hard. “What—”

  “Gonna sleep…” I murmur. And I do, even though it is the last thing I want.

  * * *

  When I finally awaken, my head is groggy and pounding. I sit up, rubbing the base of my horns, and try to focus.

  Still in my hut. The fire is low, nothing but coals, which means it has been dying down for a while. Curled in the blankets at my side is my mate, fast asleep. The encampment is quiet, and when I get to my feet and creep toward the door-flap, a quick glance out shows that the night is pitch-black and cloudy, the stars hidden.

  Early yet, then.

  I go outside to relieve myself, to breathe in fresh air to clear my head, and return inside a short time later. I gulp down fresh, cold water as I watch my mate sleep, trying to sort through the wisps of our conversation last night.

  She was not mad that I deceived her, only that I did not confess my deception. She was mad she learned it from others. I am relieved to know this, and yet at the same time, I am impressed that she is so forgiving of me when she was so very impossible before.

  Calida rolls over in the furs, moving toward the spot where I sleep as if searching for me. The blankets fall off her shoulders, revealing her bare back and a hint of the swells of her bottom. This time, my cock surges to life at the sight of her body, and I remember—vaguely—her futile grinding against me last night.

  Did she want to torment me, thinking that the visshek would make me aroused and needy? If so, my mate has a devious streak almost as large as my own. Grinning, I toss back the rest of my water and return to the blankets, pulling her body against mine. I drag her bottom against my cock, her back to my chest. She makes a soft sound in her sleep, and I push my hand between her thighs, seeking out the heat of her cunt. I find her clit easily and begin to rub it, even as I grind my cock against her backside.

  This time, the sound she makes is aching and needy, and she shudders against me, moaning when I nuzzle the side of her throat.

  “You’re…awake…” she gasps, rocking her hips against my hand.

  “I am.” I nip at her jaw, dragging my fingers through her wet folds and then circling her clit again. “Should I stop so you can torture me?”

  “Fuck no.” She arches back against me, rocking her bottom against my cock as I work her cunt. “God, I need you.”

  I need her, too. I lick the side of her neck, then kiss her ear before pushing her thighs apart. I press my cock against the entrance to her core from behind, and she squirms, making little sounds of pleasure as I work my length into her heat. The tip of my spur presses between the cheeks of her bottom, but with this angle I cannot go deep enough to penetrate her twice.

  Next time. For now, I revel in the feel of my mate in my arms, her drenched cunt soaking my hand even as I pump into her heat. She cries out, her cunt squeezing tight around me as she comes quickly, juices flooding her channel. I groan and keep working her clit even as I thrust shallowly into her heat, wanting her to come again, needing to hear her pleasure and feel that tight clasp of her squeezing me as she comes. Then I will know I can come, too. Her pleasure has become mine, and I do not want to release unless she is right there with me.

  Our bodies rock together, our movements in time as I play with the nub of her clit and drive deeper into her with every rocking motion of our bodies. I know when her arousal becomes too much again. She clutches at my arm, her nails digging into me, and her cunt squeezes tighter and tighter around my shaft. Then, she cries out, and buries her face in my arm, her teeth biting down as her cunt shivers around my length.

  My own release explodes through me, and I drive into her, filling her with my final forceful thrusts before collapsing in the furs next to her.

  All is quiet as we suck in deep breaths, the only other sound that of our khuis. Now, the song is gentle and almost playful whereas before it was angry and full of hunger. Sometimes it is so quiet I do not even notice it anymore, and that fills me with a strange ache. I pull Calida tight against my chest and tuck her against my body, kissing the back of her head as I do. “I am sorry I ruined your revenge.”

  She presses a kiss to my arm, where she bit me when she came. “It’s not your fault. I didn’t even think it would affect you differently. I was just all worked up and didn’t think things through.”

  “It was a good plan,” I admit. “I like that you used your needle against me. What did it say again?”

  “I am a jerkface.” Her voice is full of amusement. “No more lies between us, or the next tunic is going to tell everyone how small and warty your dick is.”

  I rock my hips against her. “It is neither of those things and you like it.”

  She chuckles, snuggling against my arm. “I do.”

  “Because you like me. Admit it.”

  “I might love you.” Calida holds her breath as she says the words. “Do you love me?”

  I thought that was obvious, but I remember that humans are different, and they must need the words. “I have loved you from the moment you flung yourself from the outhouse at me, angry and snarling.” I press another kiss to her hair. “I told myself, there is a fine female, fierce and worthy of being my mate.”

  “Too bad she was so squat,” she mocks. “And leather-faced.”

  “I like her squat body and her leather face.” I run my hand over her ample hip. “I like all of her…but I love her spirit the most.”

  She turns in my arms and smiles at me, and my khui sings louder.

  It is as if it knows my joy and wants to share.

  Epilogue

  CALLIE

  It takes all of two weeks before morning sickness hits me like a Mack truck. Harlow warned me that it came on earlier and stayed later for some people, but I was not prepared. I wake up one morning, heaving, and barely manage to make it to one of the carved bowls before I’m losing everything in my stomach.

  M’tok is immediately at my side, holding my hair back. “Did something you ate upset your stomach?”

  “Baby,” I manage betwee
n dry heaves.

  “You ate a baby?”

  I smack his thigh, trying not to laugh, because if I do, I’m pretty sure vomit will come out my nose. I dry heave a few more times and then collapse onto the wood floor of the hut. I’m so, so glad he scrounged for driftwood because having a wood floor beats the sand a million times over. It makes our home feel like a real home, and it’s cool under my cheek after I’ve puked my guts out. Heaven. When I can catch my breath and everything stays down, I close my eyes and explain myself. “Morning sickness. The others said to expect it soon. Guess it’s here.”

  “Ah…our baby.” There’s such pride in his voice. He strokes my hair back from my sweaty face. “Are you all right?”

  I nod, enjoying the touch of his hand. He knows that I love to be petted, and his hand on my hair is one of my favorite things. “I’ll live. It’s already getting better.”

  “I will get you shrimp tea,” he offers. “Wait here.”

  Like I’m going anywhere? “Thank you, cariño.”

  He strokes my hair again, and then puts on a pair of leggings and boots, tosses his cloak over his shoulders, and heads out of our hut. Even that small breeze that’s let in is terrifyingly cold. It’s gotten worse and worse over the last few days as a cold front to end all cold fronts has moved in. According to the others, this is normal brutal season weather, but even our normally sheltered beach has been feeling the chill. I can’t imagine what it’d be like if we were still in the cave in the mountains. I suppose it’s a good thing the metlaks—what the sa-khui apparently call the yeti things—made us leave.

  Even so, I know M’tok worries about his brother S’bren. He’s still out there with Penny. It’s been a few weeks since we returned and they’ve been gone for even longer. Not that it means anything—there are stories of hunters being trapped in caves for months on end, which is why all the hunter caves are so well supplied—but I know M’tok worries.

  After a while, when my stomach remains calm, I sit up slowly and test things out. A little weak, a little shaky, but otherwise okay. I break the ice that’s crusted over our water bowl and wash my face, then dress in my favorite tunic.

  Just bringing it out makes me happy. It’s taken a bit of time, but I’ve got bright red quarter-sized flowers all along the sleeve cuffs and the skirted hem of my tunic, with two bright red flowers at the neck as well. Just those small additions have added so much color and they remind me of my mama’s embroidery, and it makes me feel like she knows I’m thinking of her when I put it on. I’m proud of how it turned out, and proud that so many other people in Icehome village are impressed with my needlework. I have a laundry list of people who want tunics next, and Mari’s my next one. I’m thinking something sweet and delicate to match her personality.

  Then, my stomach lurches and I lie back down again, hugging the bowl once more. Nothing comes up, but it’s still a long moment. God, they warned me that a half-alien baby might be rougher on the human body than a regular pregnancy, but this is harder than I thought. Still, I wouldn’t change a thing. I touch my unchanged stomach while I wait for my gut to settle. No sign of a baby yet, but I’m already getting excited about the thought. A little one with M’tok’s clever brain would be a lot of fun. Probably hell as a teenager, but that’s years away. And my mate is so excited at the thought of having a family that he’s already started making things for our baby. Just last night he started weaving a hammock, telling me that Tall Horn often used hammocks for kits.

  I’m not putting my damn baby in a hammock, but I didn’t tell him that. I’m sure we can repurpose it for something. Besides. I didn’t feel like arguing, not when he was looking at me with that reverent, excited look on his face.

  Falling in love with M’tok has been the easiest thing in the world. Once I let go of my anger and sadness, being with him just felt right. It doesn’t matter that it was fast, or that it wasn’t my idea. I wouldn’t change a thing. I love my big alien, and I’ve never felt more cherished in my life.

  I don’t even mind his sneakiness or sly ways. They just amuse me. He always loops me in on things now, like we’re a team, and I appreciate that the most.

  Thinking of my mate, I sit up again, and when everything feels all right, I pull out a tunic for him to wear. I want to surprise him with a new one. I liked my moment of the ‘I’m a jerkface’ tunic, but after the moment passed, I felt guilty. Clothes are a hard commodity and require a lot of hours to make. I didn’t like that I ruined his, so I picked all the stitches out and embroidered a fancy vine pattern with bright green threads and wove a yellow flower in there, so he can think of his mom when he wears it.

  Corny, I know. I’m just a big hormonal fool when it comes to that man.

  As if my thoughts have summoned my mate, he returns, a cup in his hands. He has a worried look as he crouches next to me and offers the steaming tea. “I picked all the shells out because I know you do not like the look of them. How do you feel?”

  He really is the sweetest man. I might be the most squeamish girl on the beach—I love the flavor of the shrimp tea and the kick it gives, but seeing how it’s made is…not my favorite. He knows I don’t like my food (or drink) to have faces. I give him a grateful smile and take the cup, sipping it. Even that small amount of tea settles my stomach, and when he sits down beside me and pulls me against him, I lean on his shoulder. “Thank you. This is wonderful.”

  He presses a kiss to the top of my head. “I told R’jaal I am not hunting with him this day. You are feeling unwell, so I will fish.”

  “Oh, you don’t have to change your plans for me,” I protest. I know he likes spending time with R’jaal, and he’s made it a goal to do more hunting in the snows so he can be “better prepared for the future” but I’m also secretly glad he’s staying at camp.

  “There is plenty of fishing to do,” he says, the look on his face stubborn.

  “All right. Let’s fish, then.”

  “I will fish. You will sit on the furs a safe distance from the shore and sew.”

  So bossy. I don’t mind, though. “All right. See if you can catch those ugly things with the blue bladders, though. The blue ink is good for dye.”

  He grunts, rubbing my arm. “Those are bottom crawlers. I will get a weighted net and we will hunt for those.”

  “I suppose if you’re going to be in the water, you can’t wear the new tunic I made you.” I gesture at the folded leather in my lap. “Guess we’ll have to save it for some other time.”

  “New tunic?” He makes a sound that might be a chuckle. “And what does this one say I am jerking?”

  I laugh. “Nothing like that. Though if I did make you a tunic that says something, it would say ‘Property of Calida, Touch At Your Own Risk.’”

  M’tok throws his head back and laughs. “A fierce warning from my fierce mate. I like it.”

  I smile, utterly pleased. I like that idea. Maybe I’ll do some scrollwork around the hem of his tunic and put that in lettering across the butt. The thought amuses me, and I know M’tok would wear it. He loves the thought of being branded as mine in front of the tribe.

  “Drink your tea,” he tells me sternly. “And shall I get you food?”

  “Maybe we wait on that part,” I say. “Let’s only put one thing in my gut at a time for now.” He rubs my back while I drink, and when I’m finished, he helps me get to my feet and then goes to clean out the bowl I was sick in while I put on my boots.

  I hear someone call in the distance, and the sound of footsteps crunching in the sand. All is quiet for a long time, and I figure M’tok got pulled away by someone. My stomach lurches again, and I lie back down with my cheek pressed to the wood until it passes.

  After a time, M’tok sticks his head into our hut, his face wreathed with joy.

  “Calida! My brother has returned with P’nee!” Happiness makes his eyes glow brightly, and I almost burst into tears with relief for him.

  I pull on my cloak and head to the entrance of the hut, surprised
at his news. No wonder he got pulled away. “That’s wonderful. Did they resonate? Are they well?”

  “I did not ask—”

  “You didn’t ask?” I echo, surprised. Resonance is the first thing on everyone’s mind it seems. The Shadow Cat clan, especially, were convinced that S’bren would not return with Penny until they resonated, and they speculated that was what was taking so long. “How could you not ask?”

  He laughs, holding his hand out to me. “Because they brought visitors from the other tribe and something you will want to see.”

  Huh.

  AUTHOR’S NOTE

  Hello there!

  Let’s talk about depression.

  If you don’t want to read about depression, skip on down to the snake symbol. :) I understand this can be triggering for some.

  I touch on this VERY lightly in this book. Oh-so-lightly but it is a very real, real thing that people go through. It’s very difficult to write a depressed protagonist because the very definition of a protagonist is someone that makes things happen. In reality, a depressed heroine might not leave her bed for months on end. She might not shower for weeks at a time or struggle to talk to anyone. That would make a book difficult to write, for sure.

  But ever since I wrote Ariana’s book, I wanted to at least give a nod to the fact that SOMEONE would be experiencing depression on the ice planet. In this case, I opted for depression brought on by a situation - grieving the loss of loved ones. Callie’s hopelessness and frustration, her disinterest in things around her, those are all hallmarks of depression. It can show itself in a million ways, and just like anxiety, there are a million ways to treat it here on Earth.

  Callie’s lucky in that she has a cootie to help stabilize her moods, and a healer. She has friends to lean on and a resonance to distract her, but that doesn’t mean that she is magically cured. It can take months and months (or years) to come out the other side, and that is okay. Everyone processes however they need to, and there is no shame in that game.