Page 56 of Mates for the Raskarrans #1-6

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Anghar

T he djenti berry paste hurts much more than receiving the injury in the first place.

It feels as though someone is slicing into my side with a burning hot knife.

My clever Ellie is right to be cautious, putting on a little at a time.

I fear I may pass out if she is too generous in her application.

And as I have already done that to her once, I am in no rush to do so again.

I take deep breaths, trying to breathe out the pain as I release them. The sweat on my brow thickens until droplets start running down my face. My Ellie smooths her fingers over my temple, and that touch is enough to distract me from the pain.

“ More? ” she says in that musical language of hers.

“ More, ” I repeat back to her.

I brace for the pain. Shemza would have some plant root for me to chew on to ease my hurts and send my headspace to an in between place, but my knowledge of healing does not extend to such things. I will have to endure.

My Ellie dabs a little more of the paste onto my wound, avoiding the deepest part of it.

I clench my jaw, my breath hissing through my teeth as the pain starts.

Holding myself still is an effort. My body wants to writhe and thrash, as if it can escape the source of its hurting.

I know doing so would only strain the wound, tear it further, so I tense every muscle, locking them in place until the wave of pain passes.

I think I have been quite successful in masking my hurts from my linasha, but when my Ellie looks down at me, concern and fear fill her beautiful brown eyes.

“ More? ” she says, hesitant.

“ More ,” I insist.

My eyes blur as she applies the paste onto the deeper section of the wound, the stinging going all the way to my insides now.

I am panting through the pain, only just succeeding in holding in my groans.

Then the pain overwhelms me, the cave, my Ellie’s gentle touch, all of it vanishing into the haze of hurt.

When I come back to the waking world again, it is to the soft, cold touch of a damp cloth against my forehead.

My Ellie has rinsed the bandage in the river and is using it to mop my brow.

And despite the pain and the terrible circumstance of our being alone together, my heartspace sings with gladness that she is taking care of me.

That she has let me into her own heartspace a little.

I reach up, brush my hand along her face, down her neck.

She is so soft and delicate. It is I who should be taking care of her.

I am failing as a raskarran and as a mate.

I send prayers to Lina that she will forgive me.

I think I must say a few of them out loud, for my Ellie’s hand goes to my cheek, and she makes gentle ‘shh’ noises, soothing sounds.

“ More ,” I say, gesturing to the paste, thinking that I need to be well, I need to be strong. For her. For my linasha.

“ No, ” she says. “ No more. Rest. ”

“ Rest, ” I repeat, my eyes growing heavy.

I wonder what it means.

I wake some hours later. I can tell by the way the light has shifted, the sun dappling a different part of the cave.

I look down at the wound on my side. While I have been sleeping, my Ellie has applied more of the paste to the skin around the edges of it, not touching the open part of the wound, but soothing the swelling.

My belly feels less hot, the skin less tight, the wound less angry.

It has scabbed over, the bleeding stopped at last.

I look over to my Ellie, who is sorting through the contents of some of the storage baskets.

I send a grateful thought from my headspace to Ferzan for his preparedness.

His tribe keeps these caves as well stocked as their elders used to in the days before the great sickness, despite being so few in number.

My Ellie has some of the residue of the djenti berry paste on her face and neck.

I am pleased she has treated her own wounds while I have been sleeping.

I watch her as she moves the contents of one basket into another, overfilling it so it will no longer stack.

I wonder what she is doing until I see her start to fill the now empty basket with more djenti berries.

She has been out gathering more supplies.

My heartspace thrums, pride and affection filling it.

She is a caring, considerate female. Even though she is frightened and overwhelmed, she seeks to take good care of me.

It is more than I could have ever hoped for in a female, in a mate. Lina has blessed me, truly.

I push myself upright, a spike of pain going through my side, but less intense than earlier. My Ellie spins round, worry bright in her eyes as she looks at me.

“ Dongettup ,” she says, gesturing for me to stop, to stay.

I put my hand to my injured side and smile, trying to show her how much better it feels. Then I raise my hand to my mouth and gesture drinking.

“ Oh, ” she says, looking round and grabbing the canteen. “ Here. ”

I gesture for the berries next, and she hands me the basket.

I pick out a handful and crush them into the water before taking a long drink.

The bitter taste of them washes over my tongue, but I force myself to swallow it down.

The paste works from the outside; the drink works from the inside, giving my body strength to heal.

My Ellie watches me, then holds out her hand for the canteen. I pass it to her, and she raises it to her lips, taking a sip. I watch with amusement as her features twist, her little tongue poking out of her mouth as she makes a disgusted sound.

“ Snotfunny, ” she says when she catches my smirk. Then she raises the canteen to her lips again and drinks down the rest of the liquid inside. I nod my approval. I want her to be full of health. I want her to feel strong and capable. I hope it will make her less afraid.

“ Ilegetmorelater,” she says.

“ More? ” I say, gesturing to my wound.

She shakes her head, pointing to the canteen. “ More. ”

I think I understand this word now. I think of others she has said to me.

“ No ?” I say

My Ellie frowns.

“ More ,” I say, then nod and smile. “ No? Rest?”

Understanding blooms on her face.

“ Rest, ” she says, then lies down and pretends to sleep.

At least I can say I obeyed that instruction, even if I did not understand it at the time.

“ No?” I say, eager to learn more of her words.

She frowns, her brows dipping together. I like how expressive her face is, those dark brown eyes revealing many of her thoughts. She speaks with her eyes as much as with her mouth.

After a few more moments of thinking, my Ellie sets down a travel ration in front of me, gesturing for me to take it. I do not feel especially hungry, but I know I should eat to get my strength back, and I am pleased that she thinks of me. I reach for it.

“ No, ” my Ellie says, and puts her hand over the bar, stopping me from taking it.

Confusion fills my headspace, and then I laugh. “ No. ”

My Ellie smiles, picking up the bar. “ Yes ,” she says, holding it out to me, then pulls it back. “ No .”

I nod, my eyes snagging on the djenti paste on her skin. I reach for her, wanting to check the injuries she had are fully healed, but pause, catching her gaze.

“ Yes? ” I say.

“ Yes, ” she says.

I brush the paste off, crumbling it away from her skin.

The wounds on her face were not too bad - angry looking, but shallow.

The paste has healed them up completely, as if they were never there.

It is the ones on her neck I am more worried about.

Raskarrans have big veins in the neck, injuries there can be very dangerous.

I see quickly that I am worrying for nothing, no trace left of the cuts inflicted by the merka beast’s lashes.

Her skin is as smooth and pristine as it is in the dreamspace.

My thumb rests against her pulse point, and I can feel it pounding.

I glance up at her, see the way her breath has quickened, her eyes fluttering closed.

My own heartspace starts to drum, as I realise she is taking pleasure in my touch.

I want to continue to touch her, but I fear that she does not yet trust my devotion to her. I force myself to hold still.

“ More? ” I say.

She takes a deep breath. “ No .”

I withdraw my hand immediately. No good male would ignore such a command from his female.

Lina teaches we should respect their boundaries above all else.

And I am glad she gives it. It tells me she is not ready to accept me into her heartspace yet, but most importantly that she is not afraid to tell me.

When she comes to my arms, I want to receive all of her.

I want her to have no doubts, no fears shadowing her thoughts and her action.

I take her hand, cover it with my own. There is apprehension on her face when she looks at me.

I just smile, hoping my eyes can convey what my mouth cannot.

That her happiness is more important to me than any other thing in this world.

That my heartspace will be waiting for her when she is ready to claim it.