She was sorely tempted to reach out to Gron, just make the slightest connection of her fingertips against his back. She rationalised that he must be asleep by now and wouldn’t notice, but she couldn’t do it. What if he was really mad at her? What if blow jobs were evil in his culture? She didn’t want to push it and have him yell at her or make her sleep somewhere else. She resolved to wait until morning to try to see what was wrong.
She must have fallen asleep eventually because she woke up. She was roused by Gron getting up next to her, just catching him look over at her as he stood before walking away. Despite feeling exhausted and wired and still asleep, her eyes and mouth dry and her muscles stiff, Ruth scrambled up after him, watching him for some sign of what his mood was or what he was thinking.
Gron paced a few steps back and forth, as if the platform was too small for him or he was trying to find something to look at that wasn’t her, eventually grabbing one of the big coconut things and popping it with his big fang before draining it. Ruth couldn’t help but look at his body, the chiselled muscles that showed everywhere that wasn’t covered by dark fur. He was beautiful to her, grew more so every day, even if he wasn’t human.
He finished the drink and lobbed the shell towards the tree trunk without offering her any, something else that told her something was wrong. He seemed agitated, still trying to pace half-heartedly, not like he was deliberately spiting her or angry. Ruth just watched, not trying to hide but not approaching him either, and eventually he worked up the nerve to come over, walking up to her with his eyes down. If he had been a human man, Ruth would have expected him to say something, but of course there would be no point.
Instead he turned and offered her his back to climb on to. Right. If she wanted to leave the tree at all, he was the only way she could do it. Nice of him not to abandon her, but she really would be needing that rope sooner rather than later if their relationship continued to have problems. She gripped his shoulders and held onto his waist with her thighs, not feeling happy about it. He headed for the edge of the platform and she closed her eyes to the vertiginous descent to the ground. Gron definitely moved faster than an elevator, and it was a bumpier ride.
Once on the ground, he helped her off him, possibly for his benefit more than hers, then began to walk away. He didn’t moderate his stride for her shorter legs, so she jogged after him and took his hand. She’d had enough of this. She looked up into his face when he turned, startled by her touch. She held his hand like she would a lover’s and made an inarticulate noise to try to communicate her hurt confusion. She ran her other hand up the smooth skin of his inner forearm, stepping close to him to tuck his arm against her body like she wanted to keep it.
Gron looked down at her with an unreadable expression, but not one that suggested anger, and his tail flicked which she took as a good sign. It had been totally still since the night before. He reached out and gently brushed his thumb over her cheek, but he still looked sad, like he was saying goodbye. Ruth tightened her hold on him and leant her cheek against his arm. He dropped his other hand and pulled against her grip gently to indicate he wanted to keep walking, but he didn’t shake her off.
They headed through what Ruth thought of as the middle of the village, though she didn’t really know as she hadn’t seen everything yet. It was where they had held the dinner on the night they arrived. They were not the first people up that morning. Ruth caught several of the tribesmen watching her as she walked through with Gron, and she kept herself tucked close to him. Maybe she looked ridiculous to them, God knew she was nothing like the alpha, or Gron’s mother. Maybe they expected her to strut and stomp around, but she wanted to hold Gron’s hand. Not having to cower and hide would be nice, but throwing her weight around wasn’t her style. It would be enough for her to be Gron’s partner, equal.
Speak of the Devil, Ruth spotted Grasta a little distance away, half-hidden by trees but clearly only making the smallest of nods to privacy. At first, Ruth couldn’t make out exactly what the female was doing, until finally her eyes managed to separate her shape from that of the male with her and the rest fell into place. Ruth stiffened and tried to keep her jaw from hitting the floor as she recognised the male from the dinner, the one without the beads who had sat beside Grasta’s daughter. He was currently on his knees with his face buried in Grasta’s crotch, whose expression left no illusion over what he was doing there.
Ruth felt like she was blushing all over and turned away, turning towards Gron expecting him to move, but it was like walking into a tree. She looked up at him and saw he was watching Grasta too, his eyes narrowed to see into the shadows better and his brow furrowed in thought. Ruth’s jaw did drop then and she tugged indignantly on his arm to draw his attention away from the spectacle. He seemed not to notice.
“Hey!” Ruth scolded him. He might be mad at her for whatever reason, but as far as she was concerned, he was still her boyfriend and she was still his girlfriend and that meant he wasn’t supposed to watch another woman get sexed up!
She pulled on his arm again, and this time he glanced down at her, a distinctly speculative look in his eye, before doing another slow back-and-forth between her and Grasta. Ruth planted both hands against his side and shoved, trying to get him moving, but it was no good. She felt him tense up to counter her effort, but that was it, he might as well have been made of stone, except she probably could have pushed a stone statue over. As it was, her feet slipped a little in the loose foliage on the ground, and she was reminded just how strong he was, and how careful he must have always been with her.
Just when she was about to give him a good kick for being a voyeur, he shifted his weight and allowed himself to be moved, seizing her hand in the process. She yelped as she nearly fell into him, he was that close. He was looking at her in a way that made her squirm, as she could practically read the ideas going through his mind. She was gratified to see that he hadn’t been aroused by the show at least.
Gron turned then and pulled her away. She staggered after him, trying not to imagine where he might be taking her with such determination while a slow liquid heat tickled in her belly at the thought.
Chapter 17
Gron had a plan.
It felt good to have a plan.
He had felt horrible all night, miserable, without direction or purpose. Rejected. Useless. But now he had a plan and the plan was simple: Earn back his place. Ruth wanted him as her stud? Alright. He would perform so well as her stud, that she would take him back as her mate, let him finish inside her again, let him build their life together again. She wouldn’t need another, wouldn’t want another, he thought. Then he had to remind himself that he wanted her to Bond another male, that she needed to.
Alright, he amended, she would take no other above him. He would be her favourite, always, for all the years they were together until his death. She would sleep in his arms, always. She would cry out his name, always. Her other males would just have to accept it. He would let no other take his place. They had been through too much together. Who else had a story like theirs? They were fated. To be stolen and given to this Queen in some strange place, to survive with her and celebrate life in the midst of a dead forest with no other living thing? To miraculously find themselves outside his home again? They could be legend. Who else could understand?
She was not one of his kind, not from his land, yet they were brought together and now he belonged to her so utterly, what could that be but fate? She had come from somewhere far away, he knew that. Her language sounded nothing like his. He could believe she was from the spirit world. Had she chosen him? Summoned him from his home? Or had some greater power chosen them for each other? It did not matter. It was done now, never to be undone.
But first things first, he needed to excel in his role as a stud, something he knew nothing about. Ruth had taken him inside her the first night of his priming, she had never made him prove himself. He had had no competition from other males and she had needed his protection, but that was not so now, he
re, among his tribe. Now she could look at other males, but he would change her mind. He would prove himself and she would look to him again.
He had seen Grasta’s stud pleasing her. He knew Ruth had seen it too. It reminded him that he had seen many things in his life, that as an unBonded male he had paid little attention to and forgotten. He had seen his parents together, and he had seen Grasta and her males. It was time now to remember what he had seen and learn from them, and the fastest way to do that was to ask.
Bonded males were the minority in the tribe, but he knew of two who would help him. His fathers.
They were easy enough to find and he didn’t have to go far. His parents had no reason to change their routine at their age. There was no fighting or patrolling to be done anymore as it was Grasta’s responsibility to rule the tribe. Gryla had had no children after Mruin and he was old enough not to want to stay with his parents most of the time. She wouldn’t have any more children now that she was not the alpha, so she, Griss and Brur mostly spent their days close to their platform, indulging in leisurely or pleasurable pursuits, every so often chastising Mruin or Kranu for something to do if either of them got too close.
He reached the base of the tree their platform was in, but he did not see them. They must still have been sleeping, for none of them to be about.
“Fathers!” he called, but got no response. He released Ruth’s hand and leapt onto the lowest branch, bouncing it up and down to rustle the leaves while watching his parents’ platform expectantly.
After several long moments of this, he heard his mother growl “Griss, go and stop whoever is doing that.”
Gron stopped his agitating and waited, and finally his stern and greying father’s face appeared over the edge of the platform. He didn’t look impressed and disappeared, and judging by the sudden vibration of the tree he had thrown himself down beside his mate again.
“It’s our son,” Gron heard him grumble.
“Which one?”
“The middle one.”
Gryla rumbled a sigh. “Is his Queen with him?”
“Yes.”
“What do you want?” she suddenly yelled, starting the creatures in the forest around them.
“Gryla... I’m sleeping...” Brur whined in complaint, and Gron could almost picture his other father rolling to face his Queen and burying his face in her pelt, one arm going around her waist to try to prolong their sleep.
His parents had never been this hard to rouse when he was a child. They had always sprung awake instantly at the slightest sound, storming over to seize him by the tail when he tried to sneak off without them. It seemed they were catching up on their lost sleep now. Before he had met Ruth, he had always left them to it, not having much use for them as an unBonded adult. He loved his parents dearly, but he had spent his free time with Troii or another of his fellow unBonded tribesmen.
Before, they had just been his parents. Now he was in the same situation they were, and they had decades of experience and he needed their advice.
“I need to talk to my fathers!” Gron called back.
Gryla snorted. “About what?”
Gron hesitated. “Male business.”
Gryla trilled with amusement, a sound he didn’t hear very often. “Male business?! What could that possibly be? You realise I have two mates and three sons, don’t you? I raised you, there is nothing you have that will be a surprise to me!”
Gron’s tail fluffed with embarrassment and curled around his ankle, and he was glad at that moment that Ruth couldn’t speak his language. “Mother, please. I just want to talk to my fathers,” he protested.
Gryla exhaled overly-loud to let him know she was humouring him, then came a scuffing sound and displeased grumbles as she kicked her mates to waking. “Go on, you two, see to your son’s male business.”
“You would think, at his age, he would be raised, and we would be left in peace,” Griss grumbled.
“We are fortunate indeed to still be needed,” Brur added sarcastically.
Griss appeared at the edge of the platform and swung down, Brur just behind him. They both glanced at Ruth, who was caught between giving them suspicious warning glares, and looking worriedly at Gron, before focusing on their son.
“Well, what is it?” Griss demanded once they were all on the ground.
Gron herded them away from the base of the tree, fearful of being overheard. It wasn’t that he was embarrassed by the subject, but by the reason behind it. He didn’t want anyone to know that he had lost his position as Ruth’s mate and been demoted to her stud, especially not Kranu, who wouldn’t waste a second in swooping in to try to convince Ruth that he deserved his brother’s old position of honour.
“I need your advice, Fathers. I am...afraid that I will lose Ruth’s favour, that she will grow bored of me and seek others. What can I do to please her? You must tell me,” he hurried in a low voice, fearful of being overheard.
Griss and Brur looked at each other. “That would be her decision, son. It is natural a Queen should look for other males. You can’t expect her to only have you for the rest of her life,” Griss told him.
“Yes, yes, I know that, but I see no reason I should lose the position I have. Surely I am allowed to fight for that, to not be... to not be discarded.”
Brur was watching Ruth. “Is this an idle fear, or is there some reason behind it?” he asked.
Gron couldn’t meet his eyes. “Something happened,” he admitted. “Now I worry that if I don’t please her, she will... give up on me.”
“She can’t reject you, not after Bonding you,” Griss began, horrified. “That would be...”
“She is not like Grasta, or Mother. I cannot say what she will or won’t do. I don’t know what she thinks or how much she understands about our ways. All I know is that... things are different now. I can’t explain. I just need you tell me how I can please her the most. Why did Mother choose you as her mates, to father her children?”
Griss and Brur hesitated, and again shared one of their looks that came from spending decades together.
“Your mother chose me as a guard at first because I was in my prime and large and a good fighter. I could intimidate others easily and was stronger than most. I think she liked that about me, and I have always protected her, put her safety above all else, every day of my life,” Griss told him. “Your mother was a young Queen when she Bonded me. She was fierce but inexperienced, insecure. She needed partnership and I was the obvious choice. I became her warrior, in those early days. I believe I gave her support, and focus. Balance. And she offered me a life in return.”
“When your mother Bonded me,” Brur began. “I think she was bored. I was light-hearted as a young male and had a reputation for being entertaining.”
Griss rumbled in agreement. “I remember,” he said, his tail giving a flick.
“I think your mother wanted to be amused, wanted a male who could cheer her. She took me as her mate. There were fewer of us then, tribes were smaller, but we made do and were happy. You remember. It wasn’t so very long before you came,” Brur finished affectionately, squeezing his son’s arm.
“We had a third brother-mate, but he died when you were still small, and Gryla never took another after him,” Griss said. A moment of silent remembrance passed between the two Prime Fathers. “We have been very fortunate, Gron, to be able to serve your mother and to be able to share her just between us. If Gruth wishes to take a brother-mate, you must let her. He will help you care for her, he will be a friend to you.”
Gron looked at Ruth, who was watching anxiously. He knew his fathers were right, but there was still a part of him that said they didn’t understand. They were both Prime Fathers, they loved each other and treated each other as equals, with respect. Maybe he could accept it if his brother-mate was a male he liked, but not if it was Kranu, or any male like him, arrogant and bullying.
“You must not be jealous or possessive of her, Gron. Always remember your place. Queens desp
ise that in their males, and then she will reject you,” Griss said.
Brur reached out to him sympathetically. “We don’t want that to happen to you, Gron. Perhaps you don’t like what we are saying, but you will like being abandoned much less.”
Gron didn’t want to believe it, that Ruth could reject him and take others and leave him behind. She had never done anything that suggested she could be so cruel. Any other Queen, it was her right, if one of her males began making demands the way he wanted to, but Ruth was different. A small voice warned him to be careful, but he didn’t believe it. He knew her like no other. She took care of him, was gentle with him. She held his hand.
“Please just give me advice. Tell me how to please her. I saw Grasta with her stud, he was kneeling in front of her, I think he was using his mouth to pleasure her. How do I do that?”
Griss and Brur looked at each other again. “Why are you concerned with what Grasta’s stud is doing?” Brur asked.
“Gron... It is an honour to be Bonded, in any role...” Griss reassured him softly.
It was obvious they suspected the cause of Gron’s panic, and his tail tucked in shame, his gaze going to the ground, unable to meet theirs.
Ruth closed the distance between them and tentatively took his hand, stroking his arm again.
“She still clings to you,” Griss pointed out.
“I’m all she has, for now.”
“I think she can see you’re upset,” Brur added.
Gron didn’t reply. It wasn’t a conversation worth having, arguing over whether Ruth cared for him as much as he cared for her, or not.
Brur sighed. “Griss and I are hardly qualified to give you advice on how to please your Queen. As you have said, she is not like Grasta or Gryla. You are familiar with her body, we are not. Just let her see that you want to please her. Take your time and do not rush. Ignore your own feelings, and use your whole body to make her whole body feel good. Be creative. Do not want more than she wants you to have, Gron.”
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