Page 34 of Mates for the Raskarrans #1-6

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

Gregar

M y tribe brothers insist on me taking the first watch, no matter how I protest that I can take any other.

“None of us wish to come disturb you later when you are with your female,” Maldek says, shooting me a grin. Then, more serious than I have ever seen him. “She is very lovely, brother. I wish you much happiness and many fat, healthy younglings.”

I make up the tent and bed for my Liv and leave her resting as I start my portion of the watch.

The moons hang low in the sky, the stars shining bright around them.

The lands feel bathed in a soft glow. It is the kind of light for mysteries.

Shadows half seen in the half-light. But I watch until my eyes burn with tiredness and see nothing. For now, we are safe.

Shemza relieves me, and I head back to my tent.

My Liv is asleep already, taking soft little breaths, curled up in the pelts.

I am careful as I lie down beside her not to wake her.

Much as I would like to indulge in her, we have a long journey to undertake and she needs her rest. Besides, the dreamspace is more than adequate for sating my needs.

I touch a finger to my mating node to see if it stirs, my thoughts still full of the younglings my Liv and I will make together.

It is silent. The elders taught me and my younger tribe brothers that there are many reasons a female may not be ready to seed a youngling.

If she is sick, or weak, or hurt. If she is too soon after birthing another youngling.

Sometimes, it is just a matter of timing.

I will continue to feed my linasha until she glows with health.

I will care for her every need and I will have such pleasure doing it, it will not matter if it does not make her body ready for younglings.

If she is never able to carry my youngling, I would not care for her less.

She is my linasha. My perfect female. It is my honour and pleasure to tend to her.

And if younglings are born to us, it will be my honour and pleasure to tend to them, also.

The dreamspace forms around me, even as I close my eyes, pulling my Liv’s body close to mine.

We are still in bed, curled around each other, but the light is different - a soft glow coming through the skins of our tent.

My Liv stirs, nuzzling in to me, and she is completely naked, her body warm and soft against mine.

“My linasha,” I say, finding her lips with mine.

She smiles, then parts her lips, inviting my tongue to tangle with hers.

“I love how you kiss me,” she says when we pause for breath.

“Kiss?” I say.

“This,” she says, and presses her mouth to mine again. “Kissing. You’re very good at it.”

“I like this kissing too,” I say.

“I did try to stay awake,” she says.

“You need your rest for the journey. I was pleased to find you sleeping.”

“Pleased?” She pouts. “You mean you weren’t even a little bit disappointed that I wasn’t awake and ready to suck your cock?”

I groan, her words lighting a fire in my belly.

“Bold, filthy little female.”

“You love it.”

“I do. I love your filthy mouth. Especially when it is sucking my cock.”

She laughs, a bright, delightful sound. She grows freer with her happiness every day and my heartspace could burst with gladness for it.

Now that we have mated fully in the waking world, it is no longer dishonourable to mate here in the dreamspace.

We take our pleasures in each other for a while, then lie together again.

The feeling of completeness that follows release does not arrive here.

One moment we are sweaty and spent, the next, it is as if we are freshly arrived again.

But that is the gift of the dreamspace. You never tire, never ache.

If it is not as satisfying, that is a small sacrifice.

“This little thing is amazing,” my Liv says, tracing her fingers down from my navel. “What is it?”

“My mating node,” I say. “When your body is ready to seed a youngling, my mating node will respond and attach to yours. You do not have one where a raskarran female would, but you must have one. Your sister has grown three younglings, after all.”

“No mating node,” my Liv says. “Human women have a period of time where they can fall pregnant. A few days every month when there is a chance. My old tribe - they gave me medicines that made that stop. It will wear off, but I don’t know how long it will take.”

She sounds a little sad about it. Strangely, it makes me glad.

“You want my younglings?” I say, stroking a hand across her cheek.

She sighs, a sparkle coming in to her eyes. “If they are as cute as Jassal and Ahnjas - yes. I want them. So much.”

“They will be cuter,” I say. “Because they will be ours.”

I press my lips to her forehead. A kiss. I like this word. It is like the sound my lips make when they touch her skin.

“I keep thinking how lucky it was that we bumped in to them,” my Liv says. “I know they were coming to find us, but if we hadn’t gone looking for Ellie yesterday, we would have left first thing this morning. They would have arrived after we’d gone, wouldn’t they?”

“Yes. Lina has guided all our hands.”

“Where I’m from, we don’t really believe in gods or higher powers anymore.”

“Raskarrans do not believe in Lina. They know.”

“You know?”

She sounds skeptical. I just smile.

“We are here together, are we not?”

She asks me about my family, and I tell her about my parents, both taken before their time.

I tell her of Harton, who raised me as his own, though he had just lost his linasha and a daughter, too.

My Liv holds me close as I tell her these things, and though I do not mean to upset her, my fierce, compassionate linasha weeps a little for my dead.

“I am just sad that I’ll never have the chance to know them,” she says. “Sally has always been the only family I have.”

“Well, now you have Jaskry and their younglings, too. And we will soon make more family of our own.”

“I never thought I would have the chance to have children. My old tribe had very strict rules. There were too many of us. The place where we lived didn’t have enough space, or food or jobs for people to do. No younglings allowed for most of us. Not until there were less people.”

“Well, there are very few raskarrans left,” I say. “So you can have as many younglings as you wish. If you want twenty, I will gladly make them all with you.”

“Twenty?” she says, laughing. “I’m not sure my pussy would recover from that many.”

“Your pussy?” The word is strange. I do not understand what she means by it.

“My lady parts,” my Liv says. “My vagina. Oh, alright, my cunt .”

“Why does your language have so many words for it?”

“I suspect because human men are rather preoccupied with it.”

I growl a little, but she presses a finger to my lips.

“Not mine specifically,” she says, laughing. “In general.”

“Good,” I say. “Your cunt belongs to me.”

“Only yours,” she says, heat in her eyes. “I remember.” Then a wicked glint passes through them. “Though, maybe you should claim it again. Just in case.”

I am glad to oblige.

In the morning, we pack our things quickly.

I heft the pack with our tent, while my Liv helps Sally with the little ones.

We do not wait to eat our morning meal, instead heading straight into the jungle.

In the end, all the females decide to come with us, and I am glad.

For my tribe, yes, but for my linasha, also.

I know it would have been hard for her to leave any of her tribe behind.

It feels like days and days since we ran down this path, weighted down with supplies we barely stopped to use, rushing to reach our destination before anyone else.

My heartspace is full of gladness that we have had no trouble from other tribes, and though our tribe is not quite complete without Anghar and his Ellie, I am confident that my friend can find his own way home with his female when they are both ready.

We take turns to scout ahead and behind, keeping an eye on our tails as much as the road ahead. But all morning there is no trouble. We have several days of travel ahead of us, but every step takes us closer to our own territory, the invisible line after which we can start to relax a little.

While we walk, my Liv tells me the names of her tribe sisters.

Most have name shaped names - Carrie, Mattie, Lorna, Rachel, Molly, Hannah.

Others are like my Liv - Sam, Grace. The one called Sam walks next to Maldek and chatters away to him, her words melodious and incomprehensible.

The one called Molly, who looks barely older than a youngling herself, walks with Jassal, holding the little one’s hand.

Shemza stays close to Lorna, who did not desire to be carried in the end, checking she is not overheating and making her drink djenti berry water regularly.

It is true that the human Lorna is still injured and in need of care, but I think perhaps Shemza’s attentions are a little above the requirements of a healer.

I smile to myself, hopeful that his interest is returned, that another mating may take place.

I am not used to feeling so much hope. My heartspace aches with it, my headspace full of plans for the home my linasha and I will share, the younglings we will grow.

And beyond just myself and my Liv, my tribe brothers - there are other tribes out there made up of good raskarran males who may find their linasha among my Liv’s people.

Selfishly, I hope that many of them mate to my tribe brothers, but if they do not, I will have to find ways to meet with other tribes.

To spread the joy and hope that these females bring.

If that is what the females wish, of course. I would be a bad chief and a bad raskarran if I did not put the wishes of my new tribe sisters first.

Tribe sisters. Even the words make my smile grow wider.