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Artek

The scales along my spine kept fluttering with excitement rather than unease.

It was an impulse I fought to control, lest I give away my feelings to Khawla when I checked up on him.

I’d been wrung out, exhausted after the healing session yesterday, and then Nala had come in and shattered my world with her words, her body, and her mouth.

I hissed, cock aching as I remembered the taste of her.

Mouth mating—the kissing—I had seen it, but never considered it a delight, a thing I wanted to try, until she did it to me.

Now, I couldn’t get enough, and I would have greeted her that way this morning, if not for the pale, tired look in her eyes.

Remembering that, as I brought her breakfast in my greenhouse, dampened the burst of arousal coursing through me.

Nala wasn’t sick; I’d checked with my scanner when she’d focused on the food and the book on my datapad I had offered her.

A long-winded, written history of the aftermath of the calamities that had struck Serant several thousand years ago.

It was required reading for any Shaman-in-training, the history written by a survivor and founder of the Shaman Council.

I wasn’t supposed to share the information in it with anyone, but I figured that rule only counted for my Naga wards, Nala would understand what was in that document.

Not sick, my scans had concluded, but not well, either.

Tired, still low on some of the important nutrients her body needed.

I’d carefully selected her breakfast to combat that, and she had already dug in with a pleased sound by the time I left.

She hadn’t met my eyes, her murmured thanks directed somewhere around my belly.

It made me feel uneasy, worried that I’d done something wrong.

The tips of her ears had also been curiously pink, and she had none of her usual barrage of questions for me.

I hadn’t wanted to leave her, but duty called.

If I waited any longer, Khawla would be on his way out.

I wouldn’t put it past the injured male to try and sneak away.

Twisting around the corner, I drew in a relieved breath when I heard movement behind the curtain leading to the healing chambers.

Khawla was still there, and my sensor had just begun a gentle warning that my patient was awake. I had not missed him.

He was upright—barely—and, with a grimace, pulled on the bandage that covered his right eye. “Don’t touch that,” I warned him, my tail flicking rapidly through the air to pull his hand back before he could do any damage. “The eye is a loss. You’ll have to learn to live without it.”

He snarled in response, silent but furious.

I bared my own fangs in return, and he snapped his mouth shut with a click.

His expression remained mutinous, but he did not say a word until I’d checked his wounds.

Then he was silent throughout the healing process, his frown smoothing away as the pain eased and his wounds healed a little more.

A day or two, and he’d be able to leave on his own, weak but fit enough to travel by himself, seasoned in the wilds as he was.

When I said so, he rolled onto his side, his back to me, and did not say another word. Another word? He’d never spoken at all, and yet I heard him loud and clear. He did not agree, and if he could get away with it, he’d be gone already, but his own body betrayed him.

I met Zap in the doorway, her black-and-white fur ruffled from her latest nap, her snout warmed by the sun in the greenhouse.

She snorted, let me pet her, and then gave Khawla’s back a warning glare when I told her to keep an eye on him.

I was almost through the curtains when he called out at last. “I can’t wait that long,” he said, forlorn rather than angry. “My young need me.”

With a heavy heart, I promised him I’d try to think of a solution, but I knew I couldn’t let him go, and he wasn’t healing nearly as fast as he wanted to.

I pondered the situation as I hurried back to my mate—selfishly, and exhausted after all the work on the injured scout.

Khawla had lost his, but he still had young.

Was he genuinely worried they were in danger, or was his urge to see them related to his loss?

How could I help him? It was my duty to provide him with everything he needed for survival.

Right now, that meant holding him back, but when would it become imperative to move him?

With a last bit of effort, I dragged myself through the long stone hallway to the greenhouse entrance.

Doors let off only one side of this tunnel, rooms and storage, mostly storage, and some of it I hadn’t ever seen.

My computer had an inventory list, but I’d never needed anything from those chambers.

My former mentor would scold me for not checking in on things, but unlike him, I had no head for organizing anything; I much preferred working on my patients, my plants, or my experiments.

My brain eagerly supplied images of my mate as well, suggesting she was a much better way to pass the time than dusty rooms and inventory.

I couldn’t think of a truer thought, and I eagerly slammed my hand on the door panel to the greenhouse.

The motion made me feel achy all over, my muscles abused after the strain I’d put them under.

The healing machines did not take such a toll on me, but for the finer work—like the damage to Khawla’s eyes—I’d preferred a hands-on approach.

I told him it wouldn’t be salvageable, that eye, but I still held out hope.

Just like I hoped I hadn’t been mistaken about Nala’s response this morning, that she didn’t regret last night or her choice to stay.

That would kill me, to know that. The tiredness and that worry made me gruffer than I meant to be when I flung my exhausted coils around the corner of the plant bed to reach the pillows and benches I’d left her at a few hours ago.

I half expected her to be gone, vanished, a mirage, a figment of my imagination.

But there she was, curled up on a pillow too large for her tiny human body, the tablet held above her head as she focused on the words.

Unlike the other humans I’d had under my scanner, Nala had implants connected to her visual cortex, too.

This morning, after giving her the book, I’d updated her implants to include the data on Naga script.

She said she had them because of her job as a cartographer, but I wasn’t quite sure yet how those two things were related.

Nala didn’t appear tired now; her eyes lit up with curiosity as they rapidly flicked over the lines of text on the tablet.

She hadn’t noticed me yet, and tired as I was, I was pretty content to just drape myself against the sun-warmed flagstones and watch—drink in the curve of her scaleless cheek, the soft tilt to her pink mouth, the way her brown hair clung to the pillows.

She was beautiful, and I had to figure out how to get a handle on these intense feelings she stirred in me, and soon.

Her response this morning… I’d done something wrong.

I had to analyze the situation, come back with a better tactic.

If only the lust she stirred in me weren’t so powerful that I lost all ability to think.

I’d never been out of control before, but I felt that way now.

I’d worried about being unlike my Naga hunter brethren, but I was rapidly discovering that I was not.

I was exactly like them when it came to my mate.

After a few minutes, she lowered the tablet and rolled to a seated position with a low hum, her expression thoughtful.

Then her eyes suddenly grew wide, and I jerked upright, worried she saw something dangerous.

Twisting, I looked over my shoulders, my hands raised in claws, ready to strike.

There was no one there, no imminent threat at all.

When I looked back at Nala, I discovered she’d rushed to her feet and was hurriedly coming my way.

“Artek,” she called out. “Are you hurt? What’s wrong?

” She dropped to her knees with a thud, throwing out her arms to reach for me, her fingers running over my scales in a caress that had my body growing tight with eager need.

That wave of lust petered out almost immediately after it rose, my body too tired even for that.

Curling my tail, I shifted my body enough to lean into her hands and slid the tip beneath her legs so they were cushioned from the hard stones.

“I’m fine,” I told her at the same time, but even I could hear how tired I sounded.

Too tired, I’d pushed myself very hard to heal Khawla the last few days.

I needed sleep, lots of it, but I was too restless with Nala so close and yet so far at the same time.

I needed a warm bath to ease the soreness from my limbs, but I did not want to spend a moment without her.

The thought had crossed my mind to ask her to join me, but that seemed… ill-advised.

“You are not fine,” Nala told me sternly.

The curve of her rear was deliciously warm and soft where it pressed against my tail.

She wriggled against me, her finger wagging in front of my face at the same time.

“You are exhausted. Is it because you’ve been trying to help that injured Naga again?

” She didn’t remember his name! Good. Since she’d guessed the truth, I nodded.