by Ruby Dixon
“I as well,” Cashol adds. “I am ready to return to my mate and son. They have been without me long enough.”
“Let’s get this show on the road, then,” Vuh-ron-cah says. “I’ll show you guys how to set up the baskets you’re going to be riding in, and then you’re going to want to bundle up. It’s gonna be a long ride.”
“That sounds like something my Mah-dee would say,” I tease them.
“Gross,” Vuh-ron-cah says, and Cashol curls his lip at my joke.
“What?” It is not funny?
I thought it was funny.
Mah-dee would think it was funny.
I sigh. I am ready to return to her. I hunger for her smile and the wicked sparkle in her eyes. Of all people, Mah-dee understands me more than anyone.
The day is long and just as cold as the human female predicted. When we cross over the mountains, the air gets so cold it steals my breath, and I shield my face with layers of furs. It means I cannot see the ground far below, which is just as well. Looking down at such a tall height makes me queasy, and when I glance over at Cashol’s basket, he is hunched low. The ride is a miserable one, and only Vuh-ron-cah seems to be enjoying herself. I occasionally catch her laughter on the wind, as if she is amused by a private conversation no one can hear.
But then the suns set behind the horizon, and the chilly air gets even colder. My lashes are icicles and the scarf over my mouth crusts with more ice. My exposed skin burns against the cold wind…but then Vuh-ron-cah points ahead, and I can barely make out the shadowed crescent of the gorge that holds our people’s home. The village is close.
And the realization that my mate will be in my arms soon makes me warm.
It feels as if it takes forever for Ashtar to gently set down on the ground above the crevasse. He finally lands and hunches low. Vuh-ron-cah slides off her saddle and the dragon immediately extends his wings again, using them to protect her from the blasting wind. Cashol and I manage to climb out of our baskets, and my feet feel as if they are made entirely of ice. I stomp them on the snow to bring feeling back to my toes, and by the time we pull the saddles and trappings off of Ashtar’s back, Zennek, Bek and Haeden have come up the lift to greet us. We greet each other with quick slaps on the back and a clasping of arms, and they take our packs from us as Vuh-ron-cah holds a fur cloak out to the big dragon. A moment later, Ashtar is in his human form and hunched on the ground, naked. He takes the cloak from his mate and tosses it around her instead, kissing her brow. She sputters.
“I am full of fire,” he explains simply, grinning. “I do not need a blanket. My mate, on the other hand, is cold.”
“Pants,” she says sharply. “You need pants.”
“All these moons and you still cannot make him wear clothing?” Bek says, sounding more lighthearted than I remember. He claps Ashtar on the shoulder. “Your mate is right, though. Some of the human females are skittish about seeing another’s mate nude.” He takes his lightweight cloak off and offers it to Ashtar, who wraps it around his hips.
Bek is…so happy. I stare at him, astonished. Sometimes I forget that he has a mate now, and because of her he is content. I am glad for him. Everyone should be as happy as I am with my Mah-dee. Who should be…right below. I grab my pack and head for the lift, eager to have my arms around her once more. I cannot wait to see her face…and to see my son. Cashol and I have the same idea, and he gives me a playful mock-shove as we both get onto the lift at the same time and then release the pulley to go down.
All other reunions can wait except one.
The path to the village that winds through the gorge seems never-ending, but eventually I can hear happy cries and see a crowd gathering up ahead. Cashol breaks into a run, and his mate races forward, sobbing happily. She has her arms out, and Cashol grabs her about the waist and swings her around, laughing. I did not realize until now just how much he missed her, but when I pass him there are tears of joy in his eyes as he presses a thousand kisses on his mate’s face. A young male races out and for a moment, I think it is Masan, but this one has large horns and deep blue skin—Holvek, who is the spitting image of his father. He flings himself on his hugging mother and father, and they add him into their tearful embrace.
I scan the crowd for my mate and son. Mah-dee did not rush out and scream with tears at the sight of me, but I did not expect that. My Mah-dee is not like Meh-gan, who clings to Cashol as if he is life itself. My mate is independent and confident and would expect me to come to her. I grin, imagining a look of amusement on my beautiful mate’s face as she watches Meh-gan blubber and weep all over Cashol.
A heavily cloaked figure steps forward, and she has her hands on a little boy in front of her. The female is heavier than the others that stand near her, teats large and tenting the front of her tunic. My heart begins to pound. For a moment, I feel like Cashol’s female in that I want to weep at the sight. Because I know who that is, even before she drops her hood and reveals her yellow mane and round, smiling face.
It is my beautiful, perfect Mah-dee.
A huge knot forms in my throat and I swallow hard even as I stagger forward. Masan races forward, his arms out, and I snatch him up as he crashes toward me. The emotion clogging my throat turns to laughter, and I hug my son close. He has grown since I last saw him, I think. He looks bigger, and his shaggy mane is longer. “My little hunter,” I murmur. “Have you been taking care of your mama for me?”
“Of course, Papa!” He beams up at me. “And I have a pet dirtbeak!”
I try to hide my reaction to that. “Do you, now?”
But then Mah-dee arrives, a teasing smile on her pink lips, and my heart surges again. I tug Masan onto my side, freeing an arm, and put it around my mate, hugging her close. My embrace is full of my family, and this feels…indescribable. As if I could scale the mountains themselves.
“Welcome home,” Mah-dee says into my ear, her voice throaty.
My cock immediately grows hard. I squeeze her closer, liking that her large teats push against my side and her hand goes to my chest. “I have missed you greatly, my beautiful mate.”
She laughs. “Of course you did. We’re awesome.” She winks at Masan and wraps her arms around my waist, holding me tightly. “You can never stay away that long again, all right?”
“Did you miss me?”
She tosses her lovely yellow mane. “I would never admit such a thing.” But there’s a smile on her lips and her eyes sparkle so brightly that for a moment, they look shiny. I wonder if she is going to weep like Meh-gan, but she just bites her lip and pulls me in for another tight hug.
I hold her close, my eyes shut as I simply drink in the pleasure of being reunited with my family. My Mah-dee is in my arms, with hers wrapped around me. My son is healthy and strong. Truly, I am the luckiest of hunters. “I did not miss you either,” I tease.
“Lies,” Mah-dee says, grinning. She sniffs, getting her composure. “Stacy’s cooking up a feast and there’s going to be a big celebration tonight for you and the others.”
“And hraku seeds!” my son says happily. He has a “sweet tooth” as Mah-dee calls it.
My mate laughs, and the sound is beautiful. “Yes, with hraku seeds!” She beams up at me and then grabs my braid and yanks it slightly, tugging my ear down. “And you and I are going to have a private celebration tonight as soon as we can slip away.”
“We are?”
“Oh yes.” Her eyes gleam with promise. “I’m going to show you how much I missed you.”
My cock jerks in my breeches, and my sac grows tight. “Keep talking like that and I will have to change my leggings,” I warn her, glad for the layers that hide my discomfort from the rest of the tribe that’s approaching to greet us.
She just winks at me, sultry and playful, and I cannot wait to be alone with her once more.
5
HASSEN
Just as my Mah-dee promised, there is a celebration. Pashov’s mate Stay-see, Asha, and Kemli take charge of the food, doling
out large portions of a slow-roasted dvisti stuffed with fresh herbs and seeds. The meat is tender and falls off the bone, and I groan with pleasure at every bite. Most of the cooking back at the Icehome camp is from a practical standpoint or necessity, and they do not take the time to pit-roast a dvisti for two days with herbs like Stay-see does. There are drums, and stories, and new kits to admire—Rokan’s new daughter looks just like him. Shorshie’s belly grows larger, as does Jo-see’s, and Vuh-ron-ca sits with Maylak, their heads close together as they share a private discussion. Pregnant Meh-gan sits in Cashol’s lap and clings to him as if he will disappear again. My Mah-dee does not—probably because Masan has taken over my lap—but she remains close and touches me often, her eyes promising wonderful things. I watch with contentment as Suh-mer and Kate bring out pots of paint and declare they will paint faces, and all the kits line up with excitement to get their turn.
As Mah-dee gets me another helping of food, I talk to my chief. I tell him how things are at the Icehome camp, how An-shee has given birth to a red-hued daughter and taken Vordis as her mate. How the islanders get better at hunting all the time. Shren and Will-uh’s return. How Leezh and Har-loh have both given birth to girls as well. How Raahosh and R’jaal have both taken on the mantle of leadership over the squabbling groups.
Vektal is pleased to hear that. “Perhaps I will not have to go back soon.” His gaze lingers on his mate, who seems thinner than before, and I know he wants to stay at her side.
“If they need more help, I will go back,” I promise. “But I will take my mate and son with me this time.” I do not plan on leaving them for such a long time ever again.
“Hopefully that will not be necessary,” Vektal says. “If they cannot be an independent tribe as they wish, it might be wiser for them to come here.” He rubs his chin, thinking. “We will see what the bitter season brings.”
Mah-dee clears her throat and leans over my shoulder, her mane swaying. “Are you two done talking?”
I glance over at my chief and he just grins, knowing. He gets up and approaches his mate, putting his arms around her as she talks to Jo-see. I turn to Mah-dee. “Now we are done.”
She wiggles her brows at me, her hand going to the front of my tunic. She grabs a handful of it and tugs at me, indicating I should get to my feet. “Masan is getting his other cheek painted, and then Summer’s going to keep him and Rollan busy for a while. They’re spending the night over at her place tonight. That means you and I get to privately celebrate.”
Ah, my cunning mate. I grin, getting to my feet. “A private celebration of what kind?”
“Valentine’s Day,” she tells me.
I…was hoping she would say mating of some kind. Tongue mating, cunt and cock mating…my tongue on her cunt mating, her tongue on my cock mating…any kind of mating, really. “What is Val-en-time?”
“Valentine,” she corrects, and takes my hand. “And I’ll tell you about it as we go to our hut, okay? Or do you want to stay at the party?” She tosses her yellow mane and gives me a playful look.
Stay and eat instead of pleasuring my mate? I snort at the idea. “You know there is nowhere I would rather be than between your legs, my pretty one.”
“I’m trying to eat here,” Nora says, shooting me a horrified look. She is seated a few paces away with Dagesh, who just grins like a fool. He understands.
Mah-dee giggles with pleasure and pulls me away. “Follow me and let me tell you all about the human tradition of Valentine’s Day, my big, sexy barbarian.”
“I like this already,” I murmur as she leads me away from the group. I should have known that my Mah-dee would have something exciting planned. She is an unpredictable, bold female, and it is just one of the many reasons why she has my heart.
“Papa?” Masan’s little voice carries above the laughter of the tribe. “Where are you going?”
My mate freezes, wincing. “I’ll let you handle this, Papa,” she says and gestures at me.
I release her hand and crouch low, pulling my son into my arms. I hug him close, inhaling his scent. I cherish my son, and I love how big he’s getting. He is clever, my boy. “Papa is going to spend alone time with Mama right now. Give me a hug and I promise we will go hunting together in the morning, yes?”
Mah-dee clears her throat. “Afternoon.”
“Afternoon,” I correct, and I like this even more. Her plans will keep us busy for a while, and excitement builds in my belly. I focus on my son’s solemn face. “But tonight you will spend time with your friends, yes?”
A smile curves his rounded cheeks. “Okay, Papa.” He flings his arms around my neck and presses kisses to my face. “I’m glad you’re home.”
“I am, too,” I say, and there is a curious knot in my throat.
“Don’t forget to come get me tomorrow,” he says as he pulls away.
“I would never forget,” I vow to him, and I mean it. Spending time with my son is just as special as spending time with my mate. “Now, go give Mama a kiss and go back to the party.”
He beams at me and then flings his arms around Mah-dee and kisses her before racing back to join the others. She has a smear of green paint on her nose when she looks at me, and I chuckle, wiping it away. “Now your face is painted like a kit’s.”
“Maybe we should paint your face.”
“Bah.” When she does not laugh, I grow a little worried. “You are not taking me away to paint my face…are you?” Maybe I will like this Val-time less than I thought.
“Not your face, no,” she says, a wicked smile on her face.
That does not reassure me. “What, then?”
She simply takes my hand. “Let me tell you all about Valentine’s Day. It’s February 14th back on Earth, and it’s a day that you show your love to your significant other. You give each other gifts and make sure you spend quality time together.”
“So it is like the other haul-day when you show you care for someone by refusing to poison them?” I grow suspicious as she leads me back to our hut, because this sounds a bit like the other haul-days that humans celebrate. All of them sound alike—gifts are given, mates are appreciated, and people feast.
“No,” she says patiently. “This one is very specifically about love. Romantic love between a man and a woman.” Our boots crunch in the snow and she shivers under her many layers. “Man, it is cold tonight.”
I automatically take off my over-wrap and tuck it around her. “You are surprised by the cold every brutal season,” I tease her. Right now she is wearing so many layers she looks like an overfed metlak. It is adorable.
“So I do.” She gives me a sly look as we approach our hut. “Are you ready for your present?”
“More than ready.” Mah-dee is impossible to predict and I am excited to see what she has made for me.
With a sultry smile, she leads me inside.
I look around our hut eagerly, but I do not see anything new right away. Perhaps she has hidden it, then. I wait for her to show me, but she only pulls me towards our furs and then gestures that I should sit down. “Let me help you take off your boots.”
We peel my layers off and then I wear nothing but my breechcloth. My cock is hard, straining against the leather with the nearness of my mate, but she does not seem to be in a hurry to join me. Instead, she moves to the area of the hut she calls her “kitchen” and pulls out a small bottle. “I’ve been hiding this,” she tells me, her voice full of promise. “Want to know what it is?”
“I do.” I lean back on the furs, propping up on one arm so I can see better. “Show me.”
She hands the bottle to me instead.
Curious, I pull the stopper out and sniff it. It smells…sweet. “Hraku?”
“Hraku syrup,” she corrects, and looks proud. “I made it just for tonight.”
“…Oh.” I will never understand the human fascination with sweet things. I cannot stand the taste. To me, if things are sweet, it reminds me of the cloying smell of rotting meat. “My thanks?�
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She giggles and taps a fingertip on my nose. “It’s for me, silly.”
“Oh?” I am curious as to why she handed it to me, but at least I do not have to eat it. “Part of the Val-time tradition?”
“It can be part of ours,” Mah-dee says in a throaty voice, and then tosses off one layer of clothing, then another. She casts off her furs and I watch with great interest, ready for her to be naked so we can mate.
But when she gets down to her last layer, I am…confused. I stare in surprise at the form-fitting leathers. Tiny straps cross over opposite shoulders, framing her deep cleavage. Her teats are covered in white fur that barely seems adequate for support, and her waist is nipped in tightly. I can see a band of her pale skin just above the tiny furry white loincloth she wears over her cunt. This is…new.
“Do you like?” Mah-dee puts her hands on her hips and shifts, leaning forward and then her prominent teats look even more prominent.
I study her clothing, shocked at the sight of it. Why does it cling so tightly to her? Why does it make my cock so hard to see this? “It does not look very practical,” I admit.
She giggles. “That’s the point, silly.” She cups her breasts and then gives them an eye-widening jiggle. “Do you like it?”
“I do not think so,” I say slowly. “I would not like for others to see you dressed like this. Your teats are too…big and bouncy.” My hands itch to touch them. “And your loincloth barely covers the curls of your cunt.” I look up at her, frowning. “I do not know if you should wear this, my mate.”
She gives another snort-giggle, her mouth curving with amusement. “It’s not meant to be worn out in public, silly. It’s meant to be worn just for you, in the privacy of our furs.”
“Oh.” I stare at it again, at the fascinating expanse of her cleavage and the contrast to her tightly bound waist. “Oh. In that case, I like this very much.”
Mah-dee glances down at my crotch. “I can see that.” She looks up, winks at me, and then tugs on one of the ties at my hip. “I see that you like this more than the syrup.”
