Page 181 of Mates for the Raskarrans #1-6

I nod, smiling, wishing I had a sign for ‘lovely’ or ‘pretty’.

He grins, rising from his chair and reaching for my hand, pulling me to my feet.

He wraps the belt around me, examining the fit.

It’s a little long, but I think that’s deliberate - Ellie wears belts a lot, hanging her hunting knives from them, and they always have loose ends. It’s the raskarran style.

You made this for me? I gesture.

Endzoh nods, then removes the belt, heading over to the sideboard.

There’s another piece of leather work on it, and he picks it up, threading the belt through the top of it.

It looks like a handbag, and I wonder if he means for me to have a place to carry my tools for sewing, although it’s much larger than it would need to be.

He returns to me, fixing the belt around my waist, tying it so it’s snug just above my hips. Then he reaches for something. A slate.

As he slides it into the bag - less a bag, more a perfectly sized sheath - I realise what he’s made for me.

It’s a portable way for me to communicate.

There’s even a little pouch on the front of the bag where I can slot some chalk.

The thoughtfulness of the gift - the fact that he worked on it before I ever kissed him - makes my heart swell with so much warmth and happiness, it feels as though my chest could burst with it.

I wrap my arms around him, letting his warmth envelop me.

I don’t kiss him, afraid I’ll not be able to stop at a kiss.

The djenti berries in my tea helped, but I’m still a little too tender for another round just yet.

He strokes a hand over my hair, and a rumble of sound starts in his chest - almost a purr of satisfaction.

There are definitely some sore heads about the fire as the tribe gathers for breakfast. Darsha groans as Rardek claps his shoulder, shoving him away. Rardek laughs, but he does fetch a big jug of djenti berry laced water and hand Darsha a cup.

I’m surprised to see Sally up and about, clutching Marsal to her chest as the baby feeds.

Jaskry fetches everything for her, holding Ahnjas in one arm as he does.

Jassal sits with Lorna, but Jaskry seems reluctant to let Ahnjas go.

I wonder if he wants his son to know that a new arrival doesn’t mean his place in his father’s heart has shrunk.

Sally also takes every opportunity to reach for her little boy, brushing her fingers through his unruly hair and talking to him when he chatters away in his nonsense language.

Endzoh also watches the newly expanded family, although there’s a tension in his body as he does that I don’t understand.

I can feel it without having to look at him, his energy bristling next to me, sharp and uncomfortable.

I place my hand on his leg, trying to draw his attention and ease him.

He looks down at me, closing his fingers around mine, but none of that anxious edge fades.

Then, abruptly, he stands, pulling me with him over to Sally.

She smiles as we approach, opening her mouth to say something, but before she can get a word out, Endzoh blurts something, a rush of words leaving his lips. More than I’ve ever heard him say. Sally doesn’t quite manage to hide her surprise, but her smile is full of warmth when she looks to me.

“He wants to know if you’d like to live with him.”

I’d kind of just assumed I would, but the question still makes my breath leave me in a rush. I reach for the slate at my waist.

How say yes?

Sally grins. “Son.”

I turn to Endzoh, taking a breath. My throat isn’t relaxed, exactly, but it’s loose enough to get a single word out.

“Son,” I say with a smile.

Lorna and Khadija help me empty my hut, carrying my baskets with me.

“I had no idea he even liked you,” Lorna says, her delight in this new development obvious.

Khadija laughs. “Really? He’s had eyes for no one else since day one.”

This fills me with a smug kind of pleasure.

“I guess I just find him harder to read than the other raskarrans,” Lorna says with a shrug as she sets a basket of my clothes down in the living area.

“I think of Shemza as less obvious than most of the others, but Endzoh’s a whole other level.

” She gives me an apologetic smile. “I don’t mean that in a bad way. ”

I nod in acknowledgement. His difference is no more something good or bad than my own silence. It just is. His tribe know and accept him.

Just as mine have.

“You just have to know what to look for,” Khadija says. “My brother - he’s the same way. A bit odd.”

There’s a lot of affection in the way she says it.

“Doesn’t like to be touched, doesn’t like to talk much, prefers his own company.

” She counts off the characteristics on her fingers.

“My brother is more… extreme. Difficult, sometimes. He gets fixated on stuff. Great when it lines up with what our overlords want, not so great when it doesn’t. I always tried to look out for him.”

There’s an unspoken hurt that lingers in the silence that follows.

It’s a similar shape to my own. For all mine felt like they ripped right out of me last night, I can sense them lingering at my edges.

Diminished, but not gone. Maybe never gone.

We’ll both have to find a way to live with our hurts, to honour them.

Like right now - giving them a moment of space before Khadija smiles and continues.

“Endzoh reminds me so much of him. That’s why I wanted to be his apprentice. Made me feel less homesick, in a weird way.” Her grin grows wicked. “I’m quite fond of the big lug. So you better be good to him.”

I put my hand over my heart. Make a promise I know I’ll never break.