by Ruby Dixon
A little sad smile touches her mouth. “Masan will be happy for that at least. I’m glad you’re home for Lila. If you guys need anything, just shout. You know I’m close by.”
“My thanks,” I tell her, and then duck into my hut. I know the privacy screen is up, but…scratching a greeting seems foolish on my own home.
Inside, the fire is banked but the room is warm. My mate sits naked with her legs sprawled atop an old leather blanket, and Maylak, the healer, is at her side. Li-lah’s long, dark mane is tangled and sweaty against her face, and she breathes hard, puffing her cheeks rapidly. Her kit-swollen belly is so large it seems distended, round and ready for our daughter to be born. She looks up as I enter, her eyes wide with surprise, and then begins to laugh.
“I held out for as long as I could,” she tells me, panting and laughing all at once. Her hand goes to her stomach, which ripples in response. “But your child is determined to be born today.”
I move to her side and drop to my knees, clasping her hand in mine. “I am glad I am here just in time.” I brush the hair from her damp brow and lean in to kiss her.
“I’m so glad you’re here,” she tells me, her grip tight on my palm. “I dreamed of you last night. Do you think my khui knew? Or do you think it’s the kit and she has the same ability you do?”
I have no answer for that. I always thought that my “knowing” came from my khui, but if this new kit has the same “knowing” I do and has yet to have her khui…the thought fills me with wonder.
But then Maylak murmurs something to Li-lah and my mate gets on her hands and knees, her face red with strain. I support her as best I can, though I feel helpless as she squats and bears down to birth my kit. I wish I could take the pain for her. I wish I could help with the pushing…something. Anything.
“This will be easy,” the healer murmurs, and then she reaches between my Li-lah’s thighs even as my mate pushes again. A moment later, Maylak is holding the deep blue, tiny body of my little daughter, her horns mere bumps on her brow, her head plastered with a wet black mane. As I watch in wonder, the healer digs a finger into the kit’s mouth and cleans it out, then turns her over and gives her a gentle rub on the back.
At once, the kit begins to squall her outrage, her lungs healthy and strong.
My Li-lah bursts into tears.
“What is it?” I ask as she settles back down on her haunches. I take her hand in mine again. “What is wrong? Do you hurt?”
She shakes her head, weeping as the howling kit is put into her arms. “She sounds wonderful. So strong.” And she cries anew, her face lit up with pure joy. I understand now—when our Rollan was born, my Li-lah was unable to hear. She says she did not mind most days, but she wanted to hear our son’s birth. It was one reason she chose to have her hearing restored when the alien ship landed.
I lean in close and press a kiss to my mate’s brow. “You did perfectly, my Li-lah.”
“Shh,” she whispers, caressing the little one’s face as she moves the kit to her breast, offering her nipple. My mate’s gaze meets mine again and she gives a little shake of her head in wonder. “It’s a girl, like you said.”
“I know.” I smile at her. “I always know.”
“Just like you knew to be here for her birth,” Li-lah says, voice full of wonder.
“It is because we are one, you and I. My khui will always know when you need me,” I tell my mate, and hold her close as she nurses our daughter.
8
BEK
I caress Ell-ee’s back as she dozes, her body half-sprawled atop mine. She is exhausted, my mate, after our many, many rounds of mating. My hunger for her is not quite sated, but I am content to relax with her, feeling her sleeping body against mine. This is my favorite place to be, my mate pillowed against me, sharing my warmth, and her body bare for me to stroke at my leisure. I touch her arm, then trace my fingers along the delicate line of her spine, re-learning her body after so many days and nights of being apart. My Ell-ee clutches at me, even in her sleep, her hand twined in my mane as if she is afraid I will disappear and when she wakes this will all be a dream. I know this feeling, and I fight it myself. So I just keep touching her and petting her soft skin as she sleeps. It will take time. Until then, we will spend every waking moment together and every sleeping moment curled together and…
I gaze up, surprised at what I see. There is a bundle of plants hanging over the furs. As I look around the hut, I notice that there are a great many changes since I was here last. There is a sad, wilted tree in one corner, covered in garlands and with bundles of leather underneath it. Strings of colorful seeds hang between the bundles of plants, and there is a large basket near the door that looks as if it has stalks of hraku—the treat humans love so much—hanging out of it.
This is…odd.
My Ell-ee’s grip tightens in my mane and she whimpers, then jerks awake, her eyes wide. She blinks for a moment and then relaxes back against me, relieved. “I dreamed you weren’t there,” she murmurs, caressing my chest. “I’m so glad you are.”
“I will never leave you again, my mate. I mean it.” I hold her close. “I am happy at your side. But…you will have to tell me why there is a dead tree in the corner of our hut.”
She giggles, eyes closed as she snuggles up against me. “I was decorating.”
“For the holiday?”
I can feel her nod against my chest. “I figured that if you weren’t home in time, I’d just wait and we’d celebrate when you got here.” Her fingers skim over my stomach. “I was making you presents, but they won’t all be done.”
Again, I am humbled by my mate’s sweetness. “You were making gifts for me?”
“Of course.” She sits up, giving me a soft smile. “You’re the only person I want to spend my holiday with.”
I am the luckiest male there ever was. “I brought you small things as well. Though, I did not think to bring you leaves.” I gesture at the arched top of our hut. “I should have brought you some to show you that I care.”
She circles my navel with a fingertip. “Just between you and me, I’m not entirely sure I understand the whole ‘No-Poison’ thing.”
“It is in exchange for kisses. Is that not how humans do it?” I always thought it a strange custom, but humans do many strange things.
“If you wanted to kiss me, all you have to do is ask,” Ell-ee murmurs. “No gifts, no leaves, no trees necessary.”
“I shall kiss you every day and every night,” I announce to her. “But I will still give you gifts of No-Poison. It is what we do to show we care.”
“Whatever you want to do,” my mate says easily, leaning down and brushing her lips against my bare chest. “Whatever you want to call it. No-Poison, Christmas…doesn’t matter what it is, as long as we’re together.”
On that, we are very much agreed.
9
LIZ
"It's because we're pregnant, isn't it? That's why we got left behind. You don't have to lie to me. I know I'm hard to be around on my good days. I'm sure Hormonal Liz makes no friends," I tell Harlow as we sit in my tent up on the cliffs, waiting for the hunters to return for the day. Most of the hunts lately have taken a lot longer than usual because there are so many newcomers that must be brought up to speed. The island tribes are unfamiliar with snow and cold, and the human women aren't used to hunting more than a sale. As for the alien guys…I'm not convinced those red twins weren't dropped on their heads as youngsters, because they don't seem to know shit about survival. But I can't judge.
Oh wait, yes I can. That's who I am.
Harlow just gives me a sweet smile and stirs the stew over the fire. "You're just sad that you can't go with them."
"Well, yeah," I say, huffing. "Ride a dragon? That sounds cool as shit. And be home in time to celebrate No-Poison with my girls? I'd totally sign up for that. Instead, I get to stay here and babysit. Womp, womp." I make a sad trombone noise and pat my rounded stomach. "I can't even go hunting with Raahosh
because of this thing. Only a jillion more months to go. Whee."
Harlow chuckles and shakes her head at me, returning to her seat. She's bigger than I am, and her movements are far more ungainly. She more or less falls backward into the stack of pillows that works as her seat, because her baby belly's so huge. At least she's put on weight now. She looks so much better than she did before. "Mine'll be any day now, hopefully." A little sigh escapes her. "I wanted Rukhar to be here, though. He's looking forward to a brother or sister so much."
"Oh, shit, don't mention the kids or I'm going to blubber like an idiot all over again." I pick up one of my bone-tipped arrows and my stone-sharpening tool, wagging it at her in warning. "No children talk." At her nod, I try to focus on my gear maintenance, but I keep thinking of my little Raashel and sweet Aayla. My girls will be getting so big. It's the first year that we're having No-Poison and Aayla's old enough to really understand what's going on. I was looking forward to seeing her big eyes light up when she saw the presents under the tree…annnd now I'm crying. "Well, shit," I say with a sniffle and wipe my nose. "That worked for all of two seconds."
"Me too," Harlow says, and sniffs as well.
It's been like this for the two days that the others have been gone. Harlow cries. I cry. Harlow cries some more. I do my best to fight off tears and then just lose it at the simplest things. I could be helping someone with firemaking, or how to add a sleeve to a tunic and boom, waterworks. Some of it's pregnancy, sure, but some of it's because I never expected to be away from my girls this long. I can't blame the newcomers. They're trying. They're really trying. But they still need help surviving. With our luck, we'd decide they can make it on their own, and then come back to a bunch of popsicles on the shore. Some of them are picking things up quickly. Samantha's smart, and Nadine's proved to be really good with hunting. Hannah knows a little about sewing and has been helping the others. The islanders are fantastic at fishing.
But some of the newcomers—like the red twins—are fucking helpless, and it's not for lack of trying. I'll never forget the look on Raahosh's face when he took them out hunting and they massacred a poor dvisti like it insulted their mom or something. They're still grasping the whole “you kill it because it's to be eaten” not “kill for funsies.” Makes me wonder where the hell they came from.
Of course, that's unfair. They've been nothing but devoted to Angie, who's almost as pregnant as we are.
They're an interesting mess of a tribe, the Icehome group, but I know Raahosh feels like I do—we'd feel guilty as hell if we went home and they struggled to survive. And really, the beach is not a terrible place to be. The food is plentiful, and the brutal season is mild here compared to back home in Croatoan village. My problem is that if we stay here too much longer, we won't be home until the brutal season is over…and that means months and months without my baby girls.
And now I feel like crying all over again. I wish someone could haul them out here so we could be together.
Harlow sniffs, lost in thought, and I know she's struggling even more than I am. She's lost the ship—which she took almost as hard as Mardok did—and her Rukhar is back home safe with Gail and the others. She's finding it hard to fill her time because she's not a big hunter, and she doesn't sew much. Her thing has always been tinkering with the ship, and now that it's gone, she's got a lot of hours to fill. "Don't start bawling or you're going to make me start again," I warn her.
"I'm not crying," she says, and she's a terrible liar. "I just…feel bad for Rukh, you know?" She gives a teary giggle. "He misses Rukhar, too, but every time he tries to talk to me, I'm bawling or complaining about how much everything hurts right now." She puts her hands to her lower back and winces as she stretches. "I'm not much fun to be around."
"Yeah, me either. Raahosh hasn't gotten a blowjob in dayyyys." My poor mate.
"Liz!" Harlow chokes on her laughter. "TMI."
"What? Don't tell me you're getting all frisky with Rukh? Please, girl. This isn't my first baby. About this time, the last thing I want is for him to touch me. Add in all the emotions and I'm a fucking disaster to be around." I run my arrow along the sharpening stone and shake my head. "It's a wonder he hasn't run away screaming. But it does explain why he's been off hunting so much lately." Ever since Vektal and the others left on the dragon, I thought my mate would be spending more cuddle-time with me to comfort me. Nope. He's found every excuse he can to get the hell out of Dodge.
And I get it. I do.
Well, kind of. I'm also pissy about it, because that's who I am. But I understand. He needs the distractions.
Doesn't mean he's getting a blowjob anytime soon with that attitude, though.
But I love the guy, warts and all. He's kind of a bear sometimes, but he's my bear and I know I can be a real pain in the ass sometimes. It's why we jive so well together. We both exhaust other people, but he's never boring to me, and I suspect the same with him. After so many seasons of being mated, I still get turned on when he gives me one of those slow smiles, and his scars are as sexy as ever. Hence all the babies, I suppose. I chuckle to myself at the thought. I guess he's lucky I'm just as horny as he is.
"Hmm?" Harlow asks, looking over at me, wondering what's so funny.
I open my mouth to speak when there's a loud, off-key noise. It sounds like…well, this planet doesn't have walruses, but if it did, it'd sound like they were mating outside of my tent. I immediately forget what I'm about to say and just stare at Harlow in surprise.
"Er…" she says, and cocks her head to the side. "What was that?"
Another strange sound erupts from outside, and then I realize there are words. And a tune. Kind of.
"Dear god," I whisper to Harlow. "I think this is a song."
"Shangle bells?" she adds, voice low, and covers her mouth to muffle her horrified giggle.
It is “Jingle Bells.” Kind of. A really slow, off-key version that's clearly meant to offend our ears. I get up from my seat and move to the front of the tent, pulling back the flap. Outside, Rukh and Raahosh stand, dvisti-fat candle bowls in their hands, and “sing.” I try not to smile, but it's evident that my mate has no idea what the fuck he's singing, because it morphs about a third of the way through from “Jingle Bells” into “White Christmas,” full of mispronunciations and wrong notes and sa-khui interpretations.
It's beyond words.
It's…the nicest thing Raahosh has ever done for me. He knows I've been sad that I'm not there for No-Poison Day with the girls. I know what he's up to, that sneaky bastard. He's trying to bring me Christmas. You can’t be mated to a guy for so long without figuring out exactly how his mind works. I love it. I love that he's trying so hard. And when he tries to hit a high note—who knew there was a high note in White Christmas?—I do my best to hold back my wince.
As the “song” ends, Harlow claps her hands and gives a delighted little laugh. "Oh, that was wonderful!"
"You like?" Rukh asks, coming inside. He offers her the candle. "We learned carols for our mates."
"Obviously," I murmur, moving out of the tent as Rukh settles down next to Harlow and they kiss. She's smiling and happy and I'll let them have a moment…because I need one alone with my mate. I saunter up to Raahosh—well, as much as a heavily pregnant woman can saunter—and give him a smile. "Is this what you've been up to for the last few days? Learning Christmas carols?"
He snorts, his candle flickering. "You did not think I suddenly preferred the company of the new tribe to spending time with you?"
"This is very, very…sweet," I say, deciding to be diplomatic. "What made you decide on songs?"
"Lo-ren and Tee-ah told us it is a human tradition." He leans in, candle flickering under his chin. "There are many foolish human traditions, but I do this one for you."
Bless his heart. I slide my hand into his belt and tug him forward a step, smiling. "I'm honored that you'd put up with so many 'foolish' things just to impress me." God, even after all these seasons, just the sight of him g
ets me all wet between the thighs. His features are too sharp and fierce for him to be handsome in the sa-khui sense, and his childhood scars ruined any chance of that long ago, but I love his face. I love looking at him, I love that his mouth gets all tight at the edges when he smiles because his scars are pulling. I love his crooked horns. They make me crazy with need.
"My mate," he murmurs, leaning closer even as he puts the candle out with his fingertips. "I would perform no end of foolish tasks if it would make you stop crying. I cannot bring the girls here with us, but I promise I will try to make our time together enjoyable."
"You nut," I whisper, getting all stupidly emotional again. "Every day with you is a good day. The girls are safe. That's all that matters. I'm just being silly and emotional, but I appreciate your effort."
"I have learned another carol," he admits. "Do you want to hear it?"
"Fuck no." I tug on his belt again. "I'd rather find someplace quiet and give you a present."
"A present?" He looks surprised. "For me?"
I nod slowly. "It's hot and wet and loves to suck on hard things." I lean in and whisper. "Spoiler: it's my mouth."
"I think I like this holiday," he tells me.
"Thought you might." I grin and pull on his belt again, tugging him forward. "Now let's go take over the supply tent before someone notices we're missing."
His eyes gleam with anticipation, and for the first time in days, I feel lighter.
Happy.
10
VEKTAL
My Georgie cannot stop kissing me. It does not matter that others crowd around us, eager to greet, or that Vuh-ron-ca and Ash-tar trail behind me like lost kits. It does not matter to her that I am so much taller that I must stoop over so she can kiss my face over and over again. She just presses her mouth to mine over and over again with delight. "You're home," she says. "I'm so glad!"
