by Ruby Dixon
I think I will go mad if that happens. But then I think of my Veronica, and she is worth waiting for.
So I thrust myself into learning what I can to take care of her. Hassen teaches me to set traps. Zolaya shows me how to make tools and to scrape hides so we can make more clothing for ourselves. Bek shows me how to find trails out in the wild—both game trails and sa-khui trails—and how to look for caches. There is a newcomer, Taushen, who has arrived with his pink-haired mate, and he comes up from the beach to spend time around the fire and check on us. He is friendly and has an open face and clearly wants nothing more than to spend time around his Buh-brukh. Sometimes he wants to spend too much time with her, he admits, and forces himself to go hunting. When he does, he walks with me, telling me of different game and how to hunt them. He shows me how to dress an animal in the wild so the blood does not clot in the kill and ruin the taste. I take these opportunities to hunt larger animals to feed my drakoni side, and he is impressed by my size and speed in my battle form.
"If I had such an ability," he tells me, "I would be able to feed the entire tribe in one hunting spree. Imagine!"
I do. And it's not such a strange thing to imagine. As more time passes, I find that I'm becoming more and more accustomed to the idea of a tribe. I like talking to the other males and learning from them. I like the easy camaraderie and knowing that while we are all tasked with similar jobs, we have one goal in mind—to ensure our mates are safe and comfortable and well taken care of. Perhaps this is not such a bad thing after all. Perhaps I, too, would enjoy being in a tribe.
All that is left to do is claim my mate and fulfill resonance. It is the last thing, and it is everything.
Even as Veronica sleeps, though, I worry. I still have not told her that when we mate and I give her my fires she will be taking all of me. Not just my cock and my seed, but my spirit. Our minds will be joined forever.
And I am learning that Veronica may like my kisses, but she might not like sharing thoughts. I worry I should have told her sooner, to give her time to come to terms with the idea, like she has had time to adjust to our resonance. It is too late for such things now, though.
When she wakes up and she is strong and healthy, I will not be able to hold back any longer. I'm going to claim her…and hope she does not hate me when she learns what I have been keeping from her.
VERONICA
One morning I wake up and I feel…good. Nothing hurts, I can lift my head without feeling like it's too much effort, and I'm hungry and excited to go about my day.
I'm also really, really frisky.
I sit up, scrubbing my face and looking around the cave. The fire's nothing but coals, and there's no Ashtar around. I hear a rustling somewhere nearby in the dark and perk up. Then I hear a female giggle and a husky murmur, and one of Gren's unmistakable growls.
Eeek. They're going to go at it again. I've woken up a few times and heard them shamelessly mating nearby, and this morning it makes me feel less embarrassed and more…aroused. My own cootie's purring low in my chest, a reminder that Ashtar and I still haven't fulfilled ours. I need to find him and…
And lick him all over, I decide. That idea running in my head, I slide an outer tunic over my clothing and pull on my boots. When I'm dressed, I pad down the long tunnel that leads out to the cave entrance and into the sunlight. Squinting, I raise a hand to my eyes and look around.
It's snowing. No surprise there. The sunlight is weak but seems bright after spending the last few days in the cave. There's a light breeze making the flakes drift from the sky, and at the base of the long, pebbly ramp to the cave is a fire. I count three dark heads and my golden Ashtar's. One of the men laughs and then gives Ashtar a playful shove on the shoulder. "You call that a spear? My father's old mother could make a better spear."
"Your father's old mother probably hunts better, too," Ashtar tells him, and the men just howl as if this is the funniest thing they've ever heard. Someone takes the spear from Ashtar's hands, mock-throws it and then they all start laughing again.
Tears come to my eyes at the sight of my dragon, laughing and talking with the other men. Has my Ashtar made…friends? How long did that take, I wonder, for him to trust anyone?
Dear god, just how long have I been unconscious?
I must make some sort of noise, because Ashtar looks up at me and his eyes flicker to a deep gold of pleasure. "Veronica. You—"
I step forward, and the rocks under my feet become loose. I lose my footing, slam onto my ass, and then slide down the path with a small scream. Before I can even realize just how far down I'm sliding, Ashtar is there, grabbing me and hauling me upright.
"—you are the same as ever, I see," he tells me with a chuckle, setting me down on my feet and locking an arm around my waist. "Are you all right?"
"I'm fine, just scared myself," I tell him, clinging to his neck. "Thanks for catching me."
"I will always catch you," he murmurs, and his cootie gets as loud as mine is. Oh.
Actually, his is enormously loud. So loud that the others are smirking with amusement. I can't find it in me to care, though. Not when he's holding me this close. I press a hand to his chest, unable to focus on anything but the steady hum of his cootie matching mine. Well no, I take it back. I hear Willa and Gren going at it. Again. I glance over his shoulder at the other blue aliens and then back at Ashtar. "Please tell me I haven't been asleep for months and months."
"Months? No. A few days. How is your strength?" He cups my cheek, studying my face. "Your color is much better."
"I feel much better," I admit, sliding a little closer to him. I'm also highly aroused, and I can feel that I'm getting slick between the thighs at the sound of the sex going on above us. "Uh…have they been like that the whole time?"
"Yes. Just as loud and constant as you imagine."
"Good god."
"The others say that you resonate until a kit has been put in the belly of your mate. Perhaps his seed is having trouble taking hold. Whatever it is, they do not care to join the rest of us." He studies my face carefully. "How does that make you feel?"
"About them?" I whisper. I don't really care about them, other than the sounds they're making are causing my body to react in all kinds of ways. "I'm glad he's feeling better."
"And are you feeling better? Strong?" He leans in and kisses my mouth lightly, and that hunger burning in my belly grows to a fever pitch.
"I guess so…why?" I'm having a hard time concentrating on anything other than his nearness.
"Because I'd like to take you to a private cave of our own." His hand slides down my back. "We'll come back, but I want to be alone with you. What do you think of that?"
Is it my decision? Because right about now, I want to fling my legs around his waist and demand that he carry me to bed somewhere private where we can boink like bunnies. "I think that sounds great."
* * *
We spend the morning packing. Willa emerges from her cocoon she shares with Gren to come out and hug me and thank me for taking care of him. I think she's a little embarrassed or shy. Both. Whatever. I pat her on the arm and think nothing of it. Or try not to. It's clear from the flush in her cheeks—and the endless moaning—that she's happy. If she's happy, then I'm happy for her. I don't understand it entirely, but Willa's always seen something in Gren that we haven't. Who am I to judge? Ashtar's gorgeous, but he's a hundred percent alien, from his horns and fangs right down to the scales and claws. He changes to a dragon, for crying out loud. I'm certainly not one to judge who anyone falls in love with.
Ashtar helps me dress as if I'm a child, which is kind of sweet. It's clear he's been worried about me and wants to now fuss over me since I'm awake. I don't mind the fussing. It's actually pretty nice to have a big, sexy man tying the laces of my tunic higher and tucking a thick furry scarf into the neck of my outer tunic.
"Give me your hands," he tells me, and I'm surprised when he puts a furry muff over them. After a moment he admits, "I made that for
you while you slept."
"You did?" I pet it because it's soft and fuzzy both inside and out. "How?"
"Zolaya showed me. I wanted you to have someplace to put your hands when you were traveling or when I carry you." He studies it and then looks at me, a proud expression on his face. "It is the first thing I have ever made with my hands."
"I love it," I tell him, feeling tears creep in. I think of my big, fierce dragon sitting with Zolaya and making a girly fur muff for me and I can't handle how stinking cute it is. "I can't believe you made it for me."
"I wanted to take care of my mate. I do not like that you had no comforts when we were alone the first time. I will make sure that does not happen again, so I have been learning how to take care of you for when we are on our own again. I know what fuel to burn to make a fire that will last longer, I know how to scrape a hide to make you a blanket, and I know how to find caches of food and caves that are full of supplies left for hunters. This next time, it will be different."
I hesitate, not sure what to say. Part of me loves that he's gone to so much trouble—I'm sincerely touched. But I'm also worried that he's going to want to run off just the two of us again…and never come back to the others. "You're wonderful," I tell him.
He must see the hesitation in my face. Ashtar traces a claw along my jaw. "Only for a while, my sweet fires. Only until we fulfill resonance…unless you want to let the others hear me claim you like Gren does Willa."
I can feel my face heat with embarrassment and I move closer, burying my head against his chest. I'm mortified just at the very thought. "Private sounds good."
Ashtar chuckles. "I thought so. Come, pretty one. Bundle up and let us go."
I'm a little surprised—and a lot pleased—at Ashtar's pleasant mood as we pack up a bag to take with us. He hitches it over his shoulder and then helps me back down the path, to the fire where the others sit, guarding Willa and Gren from afar. As we approach, Bek hands Ashtar his spear, a smirk on his face, and Zolaya tucks a small leather pouch into the pack Ashtar's carrying. "Tea," he says with a smile at me. "My Air-ee-aw-nuh's favorite."
"Thank you," I tell him shyly, determined not to be embarrassed by this. Everyone resonates, I tell myself. Everyone poops. Everyone fucks. The fact that everyone knows we're going to run off and boink like rabbits doesn't mean it's embarrassing. It's a fact of life and it's to be expected. Still, every time my cootie picks up in speed, I get twitchy. Ashtar chats with Bek and Hassen as he straps the spear to the pack, discussing trails and caches and then they step back, clapping my Ashtar on the shoulder in a friendly manner, and nod at me.
A second later, Ashtar's in his dragon form and he picks me up carefully, cradling me in his claws as he brings me to his breast. The warmth of his body envelopes me and I tuck my hands into the fur muff, feeling rather loved. Ashtar takes the pack in his mouth and then we're off through the snow, heading away from Willa and Gren's cave and the beach where the others are waiting for us to come back.
They can wait a few days more. Ashtar's been waiting for me to wake up, and I'm tired of putting others ahead of our resonance. Everyone's healthy. It's time for us to do this thing. It means babies and sex and even though it's only been two or three weeks since I arrived on this planet, I find myself strangely excited at the prospect of the future here. Yes, it's primitive. Yes, I'm going to marry an alien and have his babies in a place with no television, phones, or doctors.
I'm excited about it, because I have Ashtar. With him at my side, this all goes from hell to an adventure. I don't even hate this planet anymore, because I see it as home. I see it as he does—endless potential and freedom. Smiling, I snuggle closer to his scales and press my cheek against their golden hardness, listening to his cootie sing.
27
ASHTAR
I travel along the trails in my battle form until the suns are close to setting over the ridge of the mountains. My Veronica is happy tucked into my claws and against my breast, and occasionally asks questions that I can answer with a snort of fire for yes, silence for no. It's not much conversation on my end, but it's enjoyable.
She asks if I have ever been on a winter planet before.
Silence. No.
She asks if I knew any humans prior to meeting me. Or any females.
Silence to both.
She asks if I will miss being in the arena.
I think for a minute and give a small snort of fire. Even though it was a very different life and I did not expect to live long, I was good at what I did. I enjoyed fighting and the roars of the crowds. I enjoyed the rush that comes after a fierce battle and the stands are slamming with feet and fists as they shout your name. Will I miss that? I think so. This is a much quieter life.
But it does not mean I would not give it up a thousand times to have my Veronica.
Of course, we have no mental link and she does not understand that this is a question that cannot truly be answered with yes or no. It has layers of complexity. How can I explain with a quick spout of fire that I will miss the physicality and the rush of battle, but not the trappings that come with it? I will not miss eating dry protein supplements because my master has decided that I must be put on an optimal diet. I will not miss being traded from slaver to slaver, my muscles felt and prodded and the endless medical tests to ensure that I am in peak fighting readiness. I will not miss the loneliness. I will not miss the slave collars.
I will not miss any of those things, but I will miss the arena.
Once I tell her this, she grows sad, misunderstanding. I pause and nose her again until she forces a smile to her lips. "Think you'll be happy here with me anyhow?"
I lift my head and blow a huge rush of fire into the air to show her just how happy. She looks surprised and then her cheeks go pink with pleasure. She swats lightly at the claw resting against her belly. "Showoff." But she is pleased.
After that, the questions are easier to answer. Have I killed three men in the arena?
Easy. Yes.
Ten?
Yes.
A hundred?
I think for a moment, then cautiously blow another yes of fire into the air. I have had masters that made me fight several times a day for months on end. I have participated in battle orgies where dozens and dozens enter the arena and only a handful are left standing. I do not remember their faces, but I know there have been too many to count.
After this, the questions change to something else. She tilts her head back and looks up at me. "When we have our baby, would you prefer it be a boy?"
I stop entirely. My tail flicks back and forth, pushing snow across the path behind us. I am stunned.
A baby. Young. Veronica and I will make young. Together.
I knew that resonance was for a biological reason, but this is the first time I have put together the realization that I will be a father soon. Or perhaps this is the first time it has really, truly hit me. A kit, as the sa-khui say. I think, picturing a little human girl with my horns and her mother's eager clumsiness. I imagine a son with golden scales like me and her soft hair. My chest aches with want.
I want them both. Now that I am going to be selfish and picture myself in the future with a family, I want both of them—boy and girl. Two of each, perhaps, if we are thinking grandly. I like that idea.
So I hold her a little closer and let a small bit of flame out.
"A boy, hm? So not a girl?"
I flame again, frustrated at my inability to respond sufficiently. She really is terrible at coming up with the right questions. I make a mental note to tell her just how I feel when I shift back. When I claim her body and fill her with my seed…and she takes my fires. Then our mental bond will be there and this terrible guessing game will not be necessary.
I only hope she's not angry when she finds out what taking my fires truly means.
I spot the cave Bek told me about just up ahead and head toward it with both eagerness and trepidation. I think of the mental bond even as I gently set my mate on t
he ground and poke my head into the cave to look for inhabitants, as Bek has warned me of. That sometimes snowcats or metlaks make them their homes and it can be dangerous to walk in unprepared. But this cave is empty, and once I pull my head out, I shift back to two-legged form. I sling the pack over my shoulder and take my mate's hand.
"Tired?" I ask her as we head into the cave.
"No, I'm fine." She smiles at me and stifles a yawn.
She is tired. I frown to myself, wondering if we should put this off until she feels better. "Sit," I tell her as I put the pack at the entrance to the cave and pat the surface. She sits atop it and I move inside, remembering the instructions of the others. Through scent, I find the basket of dung chips from the grass eaters and pile a few into the firepit, then blow flame on them. Easy enough. I check through the rest of the cave, just in case, but it is not an extremely deep cave like Willa and Gren's home. This one is little more than a recess tucked between thick rock, and barely has enough room for the rolls of furs neatly stacked along the back wall.
I turn back to Veronica, but she's picking up the pack and dragging it inside. "Let me do that," I tell her, taking it from her hands.
"Oh come on. All I did was sit all day in your claws. I'm not that tired."
"You have pushed yourself hard recently. I would not push you more." I pull one of the stuffed leather stools in the cave—there are two of them—by the firepit and point. "I will make you tea."
She rolls her eyes at me but does as she's told.
I help her pull off all her extra layers and then pour her a cup of the leaf-water tea. As she sips it, I move about the cave, making everything ready for my mate. I unroll the thick furs—all of them—and create her a fine, deep nest of warmth in the back of the cave. I find the dried meat and make her a meal. I pull the cave screen over the mouth of the cave itself so we can be alone together. I set my weapons by the door in case she needs defending.
