Page 155 of Mates for the Raskarrans #1-6

CHAPTER FOUR

Endzoh

I replay the little smile my Carrie gave me many times.

Until the moment her lips made that wonderful shape, my headspace buzzed like a swarm of erastas had made their nest up there, every part of me wanting to get away from the busyness and the noise that surrounds our fire this night.

But just that small little gesture from my Carrie has settled me.

Conjuring the image of it is like a balm, allowing me to listen to the conversations around me without feeling overwhelmed.

“Which of the females are not mated?” Larzon, one of Darran’s warriors, asks.

Darran’s brothers have been careful not to ask directly of our sisters before now, but it is clear they can be patient no longer.

“Well, you have been introduced to our chieftess, Liv, mated to Gregar,” Rardek says. “The female heavy with a youngling is Sally, who has been mated to Jaskry for ten seasons. She speaks our words well, so do not think you can gossip around her without her knowledge.”

It is a backwards way to answer the question, but it puts the focus firmly on the females who are unavailable. Who will not mind the stares of our new brothers so strongly.

“This fine creature is Ellie, linasha of Anghar,” Rardek continues as Ellie rises from her seat, her empty bowl in hand - going back for more of Hannah and Namson’s fine cooking, no doubt.

Anghar grins, drawing her down into his lap as she passes him.

It is a claiming sort of touch. Anghar is mild in his manner, but the message he sends out is clear: Ellie is his.

“She is quite the huntress already,” Rardek says.

“A very fine huntress,” Anghar agrees, grinning up at Ellie.

Ellie glances round at Darran’s brothers, their rapt faces, then back down at Anghar’s smug grin.

She shakes her head, then pokes at Anghar’s tail, trying to dislodge it from her thigh.

Anghar’s grin fades, concern shifting his features.

Ellie’s expression softens as she looks at him with the kind of adoration that makes my heartspace ache.

She raises her empty bowl and inclines her head towards the food.

If there is one way above all others that Anghar is soft, it is in making sure his linasha is well fed.

He has spoken to us before of how she felt she could not take what she needed when they were trapped together in one of Ferzan’s supply caves.

That her old tribe chiefs had kept her always hungry, even though she worked to provide others in the tribe food.

I cannot help but think that these are the stories we should be telling our new brothers, not pointing out which of the females is unmated.

We should tell them of how thin and frightened they were.

How Hannah would have flinched at Namson’s booming voice not a handful of sunsets ago.

How Rachel cried because she carries a youngling she feared the tribe would not want.

How Lorna was forced to swear herself to a male old enough to be her father.

These are only the things I know from what my mated brothers have told me, what I have seen with my own eyes. What other secrets our tribe sisters carry, I cannot begin to imagine, but I know they need gentle friendship - not over eager fools with minds only on mating.

And yet, I cannot stop myself glancing at Carrie, tracing the shape of her with my gaze. I am yet another fool, it seems, but I will make sure my foolishness is only known to me.

Anghar nods to his linasha, his tail unwinding from her leg. Ellie smiles, then touches her lips tenderly to his in what the humans call a kiss, before going to fetch her second helping. A quiet falls among Darran’s brothers as they watch her go.

“Did she just touch her mouth to yours?” Larzon asks.

“It is something the humans like to do,” Rardek says. “Apparently, it is quite pleasurable.”

“I wish to try that.”

“I am very flattered, but your mouth is not pretty enough for me,” Rardek quips.

Larzon takes the laughter that follows well, grinning along with it. It is the only way with Rardek and Maldek. Show that you are made uncomfortable by their teasing and they will only target you more.

“And these three are the only mated ones?” Larzon says when the moment of amusement has passed.

Rardek gives him a lazy smile, as if he does not see the fervour in our new brother’s gaze.

“There is also little Lorna, the tiny female with hair like sunshine. She has mated to our Shemza.”

There is much craning of necks to spy Lorna, and my back stiffens, a growl threatening to break past my lips. For where Lorna is, my Carrie is sitting also, and I dislike the idea of her burdened by the weight of their stares.

“And of course, Rachel, who you are already familiar with,” Rardek finishes.

That draws their attention back.

“Rachel?” Mavren, one of Darran’s younger hunters, says. He is closest in age to Shemza, but does not have my favourite brother’s air of calm seriousness, and so appears younger. “She has met with Walset’s brothers as well as ours, then?”

An unease settles over our gathering as Darran’s brothers look to us for answers.

“She is my mate,” Vantos answers, his voice firm and unflinching, though he must know the torrent of questions it will raise.

“Yours?” Larzon’s voice is disbelieving, and he is not unreasonable in this.

When Rachel and Vantos travelled to Darran’s tribe, they were not mated.

Now when Darran’s tribe have travelled to ours, they are.

It is not the way of things as raskarrans have always known it, but as I counselled Shemza before I even knew about Vantos and Rachel, the human females are not raskarran. We cannot think of them as such.

But how are we to think of them? There is still so much about our sisters that we do not understand.

“You have just decided she is yours now?” Larzon says, and there is a bitterness to his tone that scrapes over my skin.

He is an older male, almost past the age when a raskarran would be expected to have started his family.

And perhaps because of this, he feels the need to find his linasha even more urgently than the rest of us do.

“Lina decides,” Vantos says.

“And these females have the power to resist Lina’s hand for many sunsets?”

Vantos bristles at this, a barely perceptible shift in his demeanour. I doubt Larzon notices, but my brothers certainly do.

“If they resist, they do not do so deliberately,” Darsha says. “I cannot speak for Rachel, but anyone could see the great fondness Lorna had for Shemza even before they were mated.”

“I am certain Rachel was the same,” Rardek says. “Even if it is difficult to believe one so lovely could ever have a fondness for this great oaf.”

He claps Vantos on the shoulder, and any sting the insult might have carried is lessened by Rardek’s confidence in Rachel’s affection.

“But… How?” Flarin, another young hunter, says. His voice carries none of Larzon’s sharpness, only confusion.

“They are like us well enough to make good mates,” Rardek says. “But they are not like us also. So perhaps it is not so surprising that the dreamspace functions differently with them. Where they come from, there is no dreamspace at all. They choose their mates.”

“Choose? How do they choose?”

“How do we get them to choose us?” Larzon says, an edge of demand in his tone.

“I do not think it is something you can make…” Vantos starts.

“But you must have done something to please her, to make her choose you,” Mavren says, leaning forward in his chair, his eyes bright with interest.

I am surprised to see a hint of blush on Vantos’ cheeks. He swallows heavily before answering.

“I taught her our words.”

“Human females like to learn our words?” Flarin says, the same confusion as before ringing in his voice.

“I could teach them many words,” Mavren says, sitting up straighter.

“Rachel likes to learn our words,” Rardek says. “She is very good at speaking them for one so new to them.”

“And Ellie likes to hunt,” Anghar says, “and Lorna likes the birds. They are not just one thing, brothers. If there is one who captures your heartspace, you will have to learn her.”

“Not if she mates to me the proper way,” Larzon grumbles.

Anghar just grins. “Even then. My Ellie did not come to me so easily as that. She was in my dreams, but she guarded her heartspace fiercely. I had to learn her also. Prove that I was a male worthy of her.”

“Prove worthy?” Larzon says. “You are her mate. Chosen by Lina for her.”

“Lina is of these forests, not the ones my Ellie called home.”

Larzon scoffs.

“Are you hearing this, Calran?” he says to the male sat beside him.

It is clear Calran has not heard any of the conversation, for when he turns to us, a giddy sort of smile on his face, he looks at Larzon as if he had not realised he was there.

“Who is the female with the hair that curls like carros vines?” Calran says, looking to Anghar.

“That is Grace, the second of Shemza’s apprentices. She was a healer in her home world. The human youngling, Molly, is not hers by blood, but they are mother and daughter in spirit.”

Larzon glares at Anghar, aggrieved, I suspect, that this information was so freely offered to another and not to him. That he does not understand why only proves that Rardek was right to be sparing in what he shared. Larzon wishes to know of all the females. Calran wishes to know of only one.

“Grace,” Calran repeats, wrapping the name in reverence, then turns back to watch the female who has so captured his interest.

“I do not mind the idea of proving worthy,” Mavren says, bringing us back to our previous topic. “But how do you know which is the right female to prove worthy to if she does not enter your dreamspace?”

Calran knows, I think. If Grace does not enter his dreams tonight, he will still have no doubts that she belongs to him. Thanks to Vantos. Thanks to Shemza.

“The heartspace knows,” Vantos says, repeating words he has said to us many times over.