Mating Rituals

by Tina Gayle

  “Stihl . . . Stihl, can you hear me?”

  He caught sight of Marohka. On her mount, she worked her way across the receding water. Joy filled his heart at her not being caught by the wave. Then he remembered why he’d landed in this crisis. Why, he wondered, did he even endure the lady misery?

  “Marohka,” he croaked, his voice no louder than a hoarse whisper.

  Her head turned.

  He spoke again. “Over here, Mar . . .”

  His body ached. He tested each limb to see if he’d incurred any permanent damage. Only his left shoulder rang with pain. He pulled himself forward and found a foothold. With care, he worked his way out of his savior’s branches.

  * * * *

  Marohka charted his course through the tree. His clothes, with a thick layer of muck clinging to them, hung on him like rags. His hair laid plastered to his head, matted with muddy debris. Streaks of dirt marked his face, which appeared pale and drawn.

  He was gorgeous.

  Drawing nearer, her fear for him turned to anger. He could be dead. “Stihl, what were you doing?” she yelled. “Are you dimcoco?”

  “No, I just thought I’d take a ride in a rain storm.”

  He glared at her from where he sat on the lower limb of a webbed tree. “How about you? Are you happy now that I’m covered in mud and stuck in a tree?”

  His gruff attitude added to her rising horror of having almost lost him. She wanted to throttle the man.

  “I was on my way back to Central City.” She positioned the alba-ox below his legs. She jerked on the reins. She ignored his hurtful comment and admitted to herself her part in this situation.

  “Get on,” she ordered and shifted so his feet rested on her mount’s rump. He slid onto the saddle. As soon as his arms slid around her waist, she nudged the alba-ox away from the tree.

  “You were headed in the wrong direction.” He grabbed the reins out of her hands.

  Cut marks scored his hands and arms. His weight rested heavy against her back. He trembled, and the shutter raced through her like a whip.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Do you see any ledges?” He pointed to the ground.

  “So?” She stared at the wide-open space, gouged and scored by the passing water wall.

  “The trail to the camp follows a series of narrow pathways, which have canyons and cliffs. This way heads into the mountains.”

  “All right, then I’ll turn around.” She wrapped her hands over his.

  “No,” he said next to her ear. “We’ll head for my house.”

  “And if I refuse?” She shook her head and peered back over her shoulder. The pain in his face lanced through her heart until her gaze caught his. A dark threat swam in the depths of his eyes.

  “It wasn’t a request.”

  * * * *

  A few itons later, Stihl wondered at the woman’s resolve. The hood that had covered her head lay on her shoulders. Colorful strands of hair dripped tiny drops of water from their length. A red nose accented her pale face. Exhausted, she would’ve fallen off their mount if he hadn’t held her in place. Yet, her rebellious green eyes fought him when she glanced back.

  He’d tried every way possible to gain her trust. The woman refused to listen to reason.

  “Stihl, I . . .”

  “I don’t want to hear it.” His patience with her gone, he cut her off and jerked on the reins to keep their mount moving. “Marohka, how many times do I have to tell you? You belong with me.” He shifted to force her to face forward. “I’m tired, wet, and hungry. I’m not fighting with you. For once, you’ll do what I tell you to do.”

  “Stihl . . .”

  “Just let it go,” he groaned in her ear. “Right now I just want to get home.”

  Over the next ziton, the land changed from flat plains to the foothills of the mountains. Near the edge of his property, a large pile of rocks and dead wood bunched together in piles confused Stihl for a moment until he determined the answer.

  The Morrison brothers.

  Upset, he sought peace from the beauty of the land. The red glow of Damion, the second sun of Vectar shone low in the north sky. His house, on the horizon, waited for his return. Colors lit the sky with bright streaks of purple, orange, and yellow. A welcoming sign, after the months he’d spent away from his beloved home.

  He wanted to wake Marohka and share this with her, but she needed her sleep. She’d sat stiffly in front of him for most of the trip, trying her best not to give in to the fatigue, which plagued both of them. Only in the last few itons had her resolve weakened.

  With her lying against him, each breath her lungs drew echoed through his chest. Her left shoulder hit the bruise caused by his earlier encounter with the webbed tree. Spent from the day’s events, he wondered which one of them supported the weight of the other.

  The wind sent a whiff of her unique scent to his nose. One body part hardened. He wondered at the power she held over him. Strong, determined, and sexier than any woman he’d ever known, he fought to tame the beast that denied her the ability to trust. He’d reassured her countless times, but it didn’t help. The only way to solve the problem was to complete the blending process, and he had a plan to make it happen.

  The alba-ox stopped in front of the house. Stihl slid off the animal with Marohka in his arms. He struggled for strength in his left arm. She shifted and wrapped her arms around his neck. The pain eased.

  The light stone on the porch guided him to the front door. He punched in the security code, and the door slid open. Her head nestled on his shoulder. He wove his way up the stairs and through the house to the room in the back. Here, he punched in another code and opened the door. He laid her on the bed. Her eyelids blinked open.

  “Do you want something to eat?”

  “No, just sleep.” Her eyes closed.

  His wet coat was spread over her relaxed form. He disconnected the fasteners and freed her from the moist fabric. She shifted, and he glanced at her face.

  “What are you doing? I should be helping you.”

  “I was removing your coat so you could rest.”

  “I’m fine.” She frowned and stood. “You’re the one who almost drowned.”

  “No, once I help you with your clothes, I’ll go soak in some hot water.” He tugged the coat from her shoulders. “You’ll be able to rest better without wet clothes on.”

  He slid his hands down her arms removing her hands from her sleeves. Her sweater was damp, and he noticed her soaked pants. Quickly, before she could object, he shifted his hands to her waist and lifted her sweater over her head. Her face buried in the fabric, he let go. The muffled sound of her voice echoed under her cloth, but he paid no attention. He unfastened her slacks and slid them from her hips.

  Free from her sweater, she shoved at his hands. “Wait an iton.”

  Her pants landed at her feet. His lust responded to her skimpily clad form, dressed only in a pair of shoes, underwear, and a breast wrap.

  “Now you can relax.”

  “Stihl, I’m fine. Don’t you want help?” She stepped out of her pants. “I know you hurt your shoulder. Why don’t you let me take a look at it?”

  “No, the shoulder is fine.” He stepped back.

  She stepped closer.

  He drew back, not wanting her touch. “You need to rest.”

  His emotions raw, he knew he couldn’t be as gentle as he should be. “Look, Marohka, it’s been a long day. Why don’t you rest in bed while I unwind in a hot pool of water?” He took a step back. “I’m filthy.”

  She stared, a confused light in her eyes.

  “I’ll come to bed in a little while,” he said in an attempt to ease her suspicions.

  She sat on the bed, removed the rest of her clothes and shoes, and then climbed under the covers. Once she was settled, he rounded the corner to the lily.

  With the heat jets on, he removed his clothes and slid into the water. For the first time in what felt like days, he relaxed. Marohka
, safe in the other room, lay securely in his bed. Tomorrow, he’d worry about the other problems in his life.

  * * * *

  In the dark room, only a small ray of light hit the floor by the lily. Marohka heard and felt the rhythm of her heart. It drummed out a battle song bent on keeping her awake. Stihl’s distant attitude raced through her head forming questions. The soft bed beneath her beckoned her to sleep, but her nagging doubts refused her the right to relax.

  She pictured Stihl in the tree where she’d found him. His unyielding mood denied her more than a few simple words. She’d not even been able to ask if he was hurt. The ginger way he sat in the saddle and his soft groans when the alba-ox shifted screamed of his bruised and battered body. Yet, he’d held himself away from her for most of the ride.

  Why? Was it because of his muddy clothes, or was there another reason? Why did he reject her touch? Was he upset because he’d needed her help? None of it made sense.

  She recalled sharing Stihl’s thoughts and his wide range of emotions. Their link opened her eyes. When faced with his own death, his concern had been for her, his true feelings real. Possessive, controlling and even downright annoying, with all his faults, he still cared.

  Deep down his desires mirrored hers. She loved him.

  Yet, why stay away from her? What demons plagued him?

  Each time they’d made love, he’d given loving support to calm her fears. Only once were his fears of being unable to protect her revealed. What was he hiding? What were his issues?

  Needing to know, she pictured him lying in the pool on the other side of the wall. With his eyes closed, water lapped up over his chest. She tuned into his thoughts.

  “Dad, I don’t agree with Tankton. There has to be another way.” He sat in a high back chair arguing with a large man behind a broad oak desk. Books stood in perfect rows on the shelves adorning the walls. Wood furniture glowed with years of care. The study and the man displayed an image of authority.

  “Tough.” The big man’s fist hit the desk. “Your time has run out. As director of the family’s funds, it’s your job to ensure everyone in the family has the money they need to live.”

  “Come on, Dad, they’re both older than me. They should have successful careers by now, but they don’t even try. Why force me to be their keeper?”

  “Your grandfather put you in charge of the mine and the property. You control the money.”

  “But, Dad.”

  The stern man lifted his hand to silence Stihl. Dark eyes met hers.

  “Your mate is here,” Stihl’s dad said.

  Stihl turned and looked at her for an iton, then shrugged. “She doesn’t want me.”

  “Stihl . . .” She reached out a hand.

  “What difference does that make? She’s the one I’ve chosen for you, and you’ll do what is best for the family.”

  “Dad . . .”

  “Now, wait one iton.” She stepped forward, but the large man behind the desk disappeared. She searched the office for his father.

  “What are you doing here, Marohka?” Stihl stood in front of her, his dark gaze drilling into hers.

  The scene changed. Only white walls glared down at her on the bed. She shook her head and refocused. She was slow to fit together the pieces of what the scene revealed. Stihl, like her, felt a responsibility to his family. His grandfather forced the burden of managing the family’s wealth onto his shoulders, just like her father had placed the yoke of heading the family business onto hers.

  No wonder he knew her so well. They each possessed family who demanded their attention. He might not know it, but his life mirrored hers in a number of ways. Her heart opened a little wider.

  Peace drifted over her like a warm blanket, and she fell asleep.

  * * * *

  Stihl walked out of the bedroom and hit the lock. Marohka couldn’t escape the mating area. With no windows in the room, the only way in or out was through this door.

  She might be tired at the moment, but no doubt upon recovering her strength, she’d scream for her release. The idea of him holding her prisoner would set her off. She’d already invaded his thoughts. A solid wooden door wouldn’t stop her from trying to break free.

  He turned and walked down the stairs. He’d gained some of his energy back after resting in the hot pool in the lily.

  After fixing a turkin layer to eat, he planned to join Marohka in the special room his family had for bonding. Every man had used the room at one time or another for its safety features. Royal women played dirty and turned violent when provoked. With padded walls and only a bed in the room, all other objects were removed from angry hands. Soft surfaces helped prevent injuries.

  Stihl laughed, unconcerned about how determined she became. He wouldn’t release her until they’d completely blended and he tamed her streak of independence. She wanted him but didn’t trust his motives. Once they blended, it’d no longer be a problem. She’d know him as well as she knew herself, which he suspected wasn’t very well.

  In the service area, he selected a quick bite to eat and decided he’d better order in more supplies. His snack in hand, he strolled back into the main room to relax and enjoy the view outside the large windows of the mountains in the distance. He settled on the couch and relaxed. Only here, on this property, did he truly find peace. No people crowded his space. The land, his only companion, except for . . .

  His hand fell to his side. Grief hit him at the loss of his faithful dog. Marohka would love it here too. She liked open space, freedom. She refused a desk job and traveled to different locations regularly, which proved she liked to be outside.

  And after they moved out here, they’d get another dog. With the loss of the Trisar deal, they wouldn’t be able to live out at the house full-time. Not if his job required him be in the city. But, if the land was strip mined, they might not want to live here anyway.

  His heart heavy, he sighed with regret. All his plans in ruins, he mulled through his problems. He stared out the window without seeing the colors washing the western sky. Corolla sun glowed with the light of a new day.

  After a while, he drew his ECD from his pocket, adjusted the device over his ear, and called Cyd.

  “This better be good, Luke, or you’re dead.” His friend’s voice grumbled in his ear.

  “Woke you?” He shoved a pillow behind his back. “What if you were like me and hadn’t even been to sleep yet?”

  “You find her?”

  “Yes, she’d gotten lost. About a ziton from the ranch, so I decided to head here instead of back to the camp.” Stihl yawned. “Been here a few itons.”

  “Why didn’t you wait and call me later? Like at a decent time?” Cyd mumbled. “I just climbed into bed.”

  “Couldn’t, I’m headed into the mating chamber. I don’t know when I’ll get out.” He suddenly realized what Cyd had said. “Why were you up so late? Has there been more trouble at the mine?”

  “No, curious about some of Almon’s answers during your fight, I had a few questions.” Cyd paused.

  Stihl heard the soft rustling of blankets. “And?”

  “It seems Almon believes himself to be in love with Marohka. He was very upset to learn someone might be out to hurt her. The reason he says for him going after the Trisar Mine was so he could win her over with money.” Cyd chuckled. “The crazy man thinks that’s what she wants.”

  “It’s a reasonable plan, but what was he planning to do about me?” Stihl wondered if the attempts on her life could’ve been botched attempts aimed at hurting him.

  Cyd’s laughter rang through the ECD. “He didn’t think you’d survive. Almon says she’s determined to remain independent.”

  “Then why would she turn to him, if she managed to rid herself of me?”

  “Oh, therein lies the beauty of the plan. He intended to hire her. It seems her old man has a new offer and is planning on sell their company. Once the Trisar Mine starts paying, Almon hopes to buy out her dad. As her boss, he thought he’d
be a perfect choice for her mate. And with you gone, she’d be free to marry anyone she chose.”

  Stihl wondered about Almon’s plan. It sounded feasible on the surface, but it would’ve never worked. She’d never agree to married Almon. Besides, Stihl had no intention of giving her up. “The man is going to be disappointed.”

  “Yes, but . . .” Cyd paused. “It means he wasn’t behind the attempts on her life, or the accidents which have been happening around the two of you.”