Page 14

“Yes, healing Khawla at the rate he is demanding is very taxing on me. I just need to rest a little; I will be fine.” I would be fine, this was nothing I hadn’t felt before.

Half a year ago, Bitter Storm Naga had launched a full-scale attack on Thunder Rock and lost. I’d worked myself to the bone healing as many of the injured as I could, on both sides.

And still, the losses had been devastating.

I had nightmares about it sometimes: the battlefield, the burned and damaged bodies, the smell of flesh in the hurriedly dug fire pits, used to get rid of all that carnage before sickness could spread.

“I just need to get Khawla healed enough so he can go home to his younglings.” Nala tried to help me up, urging me to come lie on the pillows.

I muffled a groan as I rose to do as she wanted, unwilling to let her take any of my weight, too tired to carry much of it on my own.

I was ashamed to be reduced to a graceless collapse once I’d made it the required distance.

I wasn’t so bothered by the way Nala fussed over me—dragging some of my coils onto the pillows, patting my shoulder.

That felt nice. I had never had someone take care of me before; usually, I was the one doing the caring.

“I wish he could be a little more patient. It’s not right, what this is doing to you,” she said.

Then she caught me by surprise when she settled against my side, her arm casually draped over me, the tablet back in her lap.

“You rest. I’ll read. This is interesting stuff.

Did all of this really happen to your planet?

” I closed my eyes as I listened to her voice, drank in her presence—her willing body against mine. This was better than a nap.

“Yes. The calamities struck when our people finally managed to overcome the natural atmospheric EM field and achieve space flight two thousand years ago,” I agreed with her.

“Our first exploration ships encountered danger rather than a welcome. They were lost to us, and it threw our planet into civil war.” Nala hummed, urging me to keep talking, summing up what she’d been reading about in the historic telling the predecessor to our Shaman Council had created.

She picked up where I’d left off when I fell silent, too tired to marshal my thoughts into a coherent sentence.

“And that war lasted a hundred years, resulting in the creation of the Revenants, the destruction of cities and ports, and, ultimately, a pole shift that caused all technology to cease working. That’s how your people fell back to Dark Age levels of technology—these Clans I’ve heard described.

Except… you managed to hold onto something?

” She flicked her hand at the tunnels, possibly indicating the healing chambers, but with my eyes closed, I only sensed the motion rather than saw it.

“Yes,” I agreed with a slow murmur. “Enlightened people banded together, forming the Shaman Council, and they preserved what they could. Have done so all this time.” It was easier to talk about a subject I knew a lot about.

My mind filled with images of the current leaders of the Shamans—Chen, Erish, Fraersosh—good, kind males who had steered us right so far.

I had not heard news on what they were planning to do with the crashed ship, but Levant was keeping an eye on it, feeding them information.

They’d make a choice soon; I just feared it wouldn’t be one Nala, or any of the other humans, could live with.

“That must be lonely,” Nala said slowly.

She shifted against my side, the tablet making a soft noise as she placed it on the floor.

I had the feeling she had twisted so she could look at me; I could feel the press of her belly against my ribs, a soft, gentle swell.

If I opened my eyes, would she move away or stay close?

If I curled my arm around her side, would she lie down with me?

I craved her nearness more than I craved mating with her—that’s how tired I was—but that felt right too. More sane.

I sighed, slowly lifting my lids, the nictitating membranes moving last. Briefly, I saw only shapes and shadows, covered by the fine membrane; colors did not quite resolve.

Then I was staring at the canopy of leaves and branches, the panes of glass of the dome, and the violet Serant sky beyond that.

My head felt too heavy when I lifted it, stuffed with Varkasa fur—sluggish and slow.

“I am fine. I do not do well with company for long. We Shaman stick together.”

Contradicting statements, but Nala met my eyes, her brown orbs warm and inviting.

She nodded. “I understand that. I understand that very well.” She sounded like she did, and a spark of hope ignited.

Maybe she wouldn’t want to move to Haven eventually, maybe she’d be happy to stay, truly stay.

My head echoed with her “stay” from last night, then flooded with the memories of our bodies tangling, the taste of her.

My cock stirred in my pouch—just a pulse and a push—but my body was still too heavy for much more.

Then Nala dragged my mind firmly back to the present with sharp hooks and a surge of adrenaline.

“If your patient Khawla is so desperate to go home, why don’t we take him?

That way, you can make sure he stays alive, and he gets what he wants, doesn’t he?

” The sudden battle readiness made me jerk upright to a sitting position, and I almost dislodged Nala’s casual lean against my hip and belly.

I caught her with my arm around her waist, dragging her close, almost into my lap.

Her startled “woah” made my eyes lock onto her mouth, and my tongue flicked out.

All that adrenaline made the tiredness vanish like it was magic—suppressed, gone, and momentarily forgotten.

My cock responded in tandem, surging in my pouch, flexing against the confines.

Tired? Who cared? I was ready to mount her right there on the flagstones.

Her lush, round behind was already against my groin, and I pulled her tighter until the eager tips—so sensitive—and still locked tightly together kissed the heat of her soft rear.

“No!” I growled vehemently at the same time, protectiveness only barely winning out over lust. It was protectiveness that had caused the burst of energy, and I had not forgotten.

Could not forget, the instinct was too strong for that.

“You’re not going anywhere! Least of all to Thunder Rock Village.

The females would kill you on sight! You’re not going.

” There was a stubborn look in her eye that I didn’t expect; she’d been so cleverly accommodating until now, taking so much of what happened in stride, with no protest, just calm acceptance.

But now, there was defiance—sharp and bright—staining her cheeks pink.

“No? You said yourself that snow is coming soon, that travel will be almost impossible after that. We can’t let the poor guy get trapped here all winter, with us.

Can we? He needs to see his babies.” She tapped my chest, hooked a finger behind one of my golden chains, and pulled.

My cock surged harder, pressing against her ass where she sat on my lap, putting delicious, painful pressure on my eager erection.

I refused to extrude and shame myself, but even biting down hard on my lip until blood spread coppery and thick didn’t help.

“No,” I said again, struggling to form thoughts when my desire to claim her was beginning to win out over continuing this conversation.

I gripped the back of her neck with one hand, my fingers long enough to almost meet at the front of her delicate throat.

Claws, shiny like pearls, gleamed against her pale flesh.

I was careful not to hurt her, but that tight grip let her know I meant it—I wasn’t going to let her go.

Her eyes narrowed at me, turning from understanding to sharp enough to cut.

I winced, hating that expression, floundering as I tried to explain to her what a bad idea this was.

Why there was no way I could ever put her in harm’s way like that.

“They have no Queen right now, they’re fighting among each other.

It’s dangerous! Any female is a threat to them. They will kill you.”

Her expression grew soft again, because my Nala—my Shavire—simply didn’t have it in her to stay mad for long.

“Artek, you are exhausted right now. Get some rest. You’ll see this is a good plan once you feel a bit better.

It’s not like we have to go all the way, just far enough to make sure he’ll be okay.

Right?” That would have felt condescending had the statement come from anyone but her.

Instead, I felt like she cared. She also made a certain kind of sense, but I wasn’t ready to admit that yet.

Our stares clashed, intense, soft and hard meeting in interesting ways.

Just like my hard cock pressing against her rear, so very eager to slip out of its pocket and into her warm embrace.

I blinked, fighting the instincts that clamored inside me, failing when my cock slipped out a little further.

She felt that—she had to feel it—but she didn’t say anything.

Her eyes were bright, her cheeks a pink that bordered on red.

Her breathing was rapid too, and I could feel the pounding of her pulse beneath my fingers.

“I will think about it,” I bit out through gritted teeth.

Then the last of my control was shredded by her tiny wriggle against me.

I rose abruptly, catching her with my arms and setting her down on her feet as if she were on fire.

I spun, cock slipping again, and I slammed my palm against my groin to stop the shameful spill.

For the second time, I fled the greenhouse—and my mate’s presence—so I would not embarrass myself.