Page 70 of Mates for the Raskarrans #1-6

EPILOGUE

Ellie

I t takes me a little while to learn the rhythms of the tribe.

At first, I thought it was just random - that they each decided what they wanted to do in the morning and then went and did it.

But Liv says they all have particular jobs and share the workload out between them to ensure the tribe is well cared for.

With the influx of new members, that’s a trickier job than before.

Anghar spends many long days and nights hunting to build a surplus of food.

Harton, who I’ve since learned is Anghar’s father, smokes the spare meat.

He teaches me how to do it, too, so when Anghar returns I can help him skin his kill, prep food for the tribe and then smoke the leftovers to store.

Sam helps me do it, chattering away like she always does, filling the silence between us and Harton.

I love her for her irrepressible spirit, and I think many of the raskarrans do, too.

She may not have found her mate among them yet, but she has many friends, despite the language barrier.

Settling in to the tribe doesn’t go as smoothly for some, but it doesn’t take long for most to feel at home, to accept that the generosity of the raskarrans comes without expectations. But when a few days have passed, Liv starts turning her mind to the long term.

“We’ll all have to pull our weight,” she says. “No one needs to rush into anything, but it would be a good idea to try a few things out, figure out what you enjoy, what you’re good at.”

Some are more apprehensive than others. It’s not their fault - Mercenia kept us all so small, it’s hard to imagine doing something outside of what we know.

Carrie helps alter clothes, Grace helps Shemza in the infirmary.

I don’t think either of them mind, but no one is stepping out of their lane yet.

But I’m going to. I don’t want to just stay home and smoke excess meat.

While the hunters have been out building a surplus, I haven’t pushed it.

They needed all their skill and no distractions to ensure the tribe is well cared for and prepared for the future.

But now the stores are getting full, the hunters more relaxed, I think it’s time.

So when Anghar gets back from his early morning rounds, I’m ready.

His eyes land on the bag I’ve packed, the practical clothes I’m wearing, and he gives me a questioning look. I take a breath and try to get through the words Sally has taught me.

“ Ch’blesk gavan shalleff corshun,” I say, pronouncing each word slowly, with as much precision as I can.

Their language is so growling when they speak it.

It doesn’t sound right on human tongues, but Sally communicates with them just fine, and she’s been trying to teach all of us some basics. Hello, please, thank you.

I want to go hunting with you.

Anghar’s smile is slow to spread, but keeps growing and growing until I think his face might split in half.

“Yes?” I say.

“Yes,” he says, his smile still growing impossibly wider.

We spend the day walking the lands of Anghar’s tribe.

He shows me how far their territory extends, which places are good hunting grounds, how to look for signs of animals in the undergrowth, the kinds of plants and trees the different creatures favour.

It’s slow going - lots of walking, lots of stilted communication.

Soon, the bond between us forged in our dreams will start to spill over into the real world and we’ll understand each other perfectly, but for now we make do with the few words we can learn from each other, or that Sally teaches me.

When it starts to get late, I figure we’ll head back empty-handed, but I’m starting to get a feel for the area that immediately surrounds the village, and the place Anghar leads me to is not it.

When I give him a questioning look, he grins at me, then pulls me onto his back and starts climbing.

I hold on, trying not to strangle him in a death grip.

It’s hard - he moves up the trunk at a terrifying speed.

Then we break through into the canopy and a platform, and I realise where we are.

It’s the sentry post he likes, the one he showed me in the dreamspace.

I smile, remembering how I lay beside him for the first time, starting to open my heart and mind to him a little.

Asked him to touch me. It must be on Anghar’s mind, too, for the next look he gives me is so heated, my skin starts to prickle, despite the cool nighttime air.

There’s another pack on the platform, and Anghar goes to it, pulling out furs and arranging them.

I lie down beside him and stare up at the stars overhead.

In the dreamspace, the night sky was so deep and vibrant I felt like I could fall into it.

Here, a few leaves break up the view, and the stars are less precise, less bright.

I think the dreamspace is memory, and memory is always tinged with emotion.

Anghar’s love for this place made it more vibrant, more dramatic in our dreams. But it’s no less lovely being here for real.

It’s better, in fact, in the same way that sex in the real world is better than sex in the dreamspace precisely because it’s not quite so perfect and magical.

The real world leaves scars and bruises - I’ve had a lot of those - but it also leaves laughter lines and jaw ache from smiling so hard and the delicious feeling of aftershocks, lips bruised from kisses, skin prickling as it cools.

Anghar draws me closer, his hand brushing over my arm, sending shivers through me.

I turn so I’m snuggled against him, breathe his scent in deep.

I let my hands trail across his chest, sneaking beneath his top so I can feel the warmth of his skin.

I love his perfect combination of soft and firm, his muscles strong and defined beneath his skin.

My fingers bump over chiselled abs and I let my nails scrape across his skin just a little, in case he has any doubt as to the mood of my touches.

I hear him draw a sharp breath, then he turns to me, drawing me so close to his body I feel like we could fuse together.

He kisses me, deep, passionate kisses, and I love how he never feels in any rush to progress from kissing to other things, love how he likes to take his time with me.

It makes me feel like an indulgence, a gift he wants to savour.

I also love how he’s dedicated to my pleasure, making sure I am enjoying myself at every stage.

When I’m breathless from kissing, he draws back, smiles at me.

“More?”

I love that he always asks.

I loop my hands around his neck. “I love you.”

He gives me a confused look. I giggle.

“I’ll explain later. Yes. More.”

He grins, then tugs at my clothes. I help him remove them, then turn my attention to his own, undoing the ties. While he fights with his shoes, I nip at his muscled shoulders, making him groan with need. He whips his top off, then pushes his trousers down, his tail flicking erratically.

Then he stills, even his tail pausing its constant movement. His body almost vibrates, but he moves very slowly as he turns to me, a strange look in his eye.

“What?” I say.

He takes my hand, placing it over the spot just above his cock where the skin is raised a little, a slightly different texture.

His mating node, as he called it in the dreamspace.

Only it doesn’t feel like it normally does.

It’s engorged, pulsing, and when my fingers brush over it, it tries to close around them, a gentle pressure against my fingertips.

And I know what this means. Since meeting Sally and her two half-human, half-raskarran children, I know the thought of kids has been occupying Anghar’s mind.

He’s been spending a lot of time with Sally’s partner, Jaskry - out of a desire to form a friendship, mostly, but even if he wasn’t consciously thinking about it, they’ve had plenty of time together.

I’m sure the conversation of kids has come up.

Certainly he explained to me how raskarran conception works, how despite humans not having a mating node to match their own, it is still possible for a child to be made.

Anghar touches my face, drawing my forehead to his.

“Yes?” he says, his voice low and quiet and strangely flat, like he’s trying to keep emotion out of it. I know he wants this more than anything, which makes it all the more meaningful that he’s asking, that he’s trying so hard not to put pressure on me.

He’ll be such a good father.

“Yes,” I say, blinking away happy tears.

He kisses me slowly, full of reverence, as he lies me back on the furs, shifting so his body is over mine.

He traces a hand down my body, brushing his thumb over my nipple, but not stopping to play as he normally does.

Instead, he strokes between my legs, teasing at my clit before dipping his fingers down to my entrance.

I’m already soaked, as if my body responds to his more than normal now his mating node is active, as if it knows what’s coming and has prepared for it.

Anghar doesn’t wait, just aligns our bodies and slides himself deep inside me with one smooth stroke.

He doesn’t move again, just holds himself against me, our hips locked together as he brushes his fingers over my face, tracing my cheekbones then slipping his hand round to cup the back of my neck, while his mating node keeps pulsing right against my clit.

It’s not the only part of him that’s pulsing, either.

Deep inside me, his cock moves in a delicious motion, rubbing up against my inner walls and driving me closer and closer to release.

I cry out as Anghar feathers kisses over my face.

Other than those kisses, he doesn’t move as I writhe and moan against him.

I’m barely coming down from that orgasm when another starts building in me.

The insistent pulse of his mating node is driving me wild and I grip his arms, my nails biting into his skin as another wave of pleasure, stronger than the last, washes through me, my back arching off the furs with the intensity of it.

Anghar slips his arms beneath me, cradling me, his tail twining around my leg, and I feel utterly surrounded by him.

Before, it would have frightened me, but I could never be afraid of him now.

Not when he’s proved his kindness, his considerateness, his love so many times.

Soon my throat is raw from moaning, and the pleasure keeps coming, my body climaxing again and again. Anghar whispers words into my ear, and every so often I think I hear him say ‘my Ellie’. Then I’m too delirious with pleasure to think anymore.

When it stops, Anghar draws out of me, pulling the furs around my body as he nestles in next to me, his hand going straight to my belly, as if he might feel something there.

I’m so exhausted, my eyes heavy, I know I’ll drift into the dreamspace soon.

But I bite the tip of my tongue, try to stay in this moment a little while longer.

Try to fix the perfection of it in my mind.

“Rest,” Anghar says, his lips brushing over my ear.

I smile as sleep starts to settle over me.

Because I know he’ll be waiting in the dreamspace for me.