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CHAPTER NINE

Vartok

I would never be the same.

With the blessings of the gods, I would live to be an old man, and when I was gray and feeble and I looked back on my life, my years would be distinctly divided: Into the time before I joined with Myra…and after.

Long after she’d fallen back to sleep in my arms, I lay there staring up at the wooden beams which supported the thatch of my roof, marveling at this perfection.

I needed to get up, to warm some water so I could wash my seed from her body, but I didn’t want to release her. I didn’t want this moment to end.

Pulling from her to spill across her stomach had been one of the hardest things I’d ever done.

But she was a midwife . She had to understand the possibility of impregnation was? —

She thinks she cannae get pregnant, ye dobber, because she doesnae realize ye’re Mates.

But I knew.

By Torvar’s Hammer, I knew! When I’d slid into her for the first time, my Kteer and my heart had both exalted at the realization I was finally claiming my Mate. We had fit together so perfectly and she’d felt so fooking right in my arms. I wanted to be joined with her forever.

But…

But Myra had only come to me as a teacher. I was doing all I could to tutor her in the art of pleasure, but I wanted more . I wanted to claim her fully . I wanted her to know she was my Mate.

I just needed to find a way to tell her. To tell her that whatever she thought of this relationship, ‘twas so much more to me.

With a sigh, I finally forced myself away from her, tucking her carefully beneath the quilts before rolling to the edge of the bed.

But she was so damn peaceful, curled up on her side with one palm beneath her dark cheek, her jaw lax in slumber, I couldn’t stop myself from reaching down and cupping the top of her head.

“I love ye, lass,” I whispered. “Ye’re mine, and I’m yers, and one day I’ll find the bollocks to tell ye that when ye’re awake.”

But ‘twas not to be today.

Nor the next day, either.

As promised, I woke Myra in time to clean her and feed her again, then sent her to Mkaalad’s cottage.

I escorted my grandmother back to her home, listening with half an ear as she chattered on about the decoctions and teas she needed to make for Avaleen, while my mind was on the female— my female—I’d just left.

When I straightened after distractedly kissing my wee grandmother on the top of her head, Nan stopped me with a hand on my arm.

“I’m happy for ye, laddie.”

Startled, I frowned down at her. “For what?”

“For finally getting yer head out of yer arse.”

I had to chuckle. “That sounds uncomfortable, Nan. But I’ve done naught worth celebrating.”

“Have ye?” She peered closer at my face, then hummed and shrugged. “Well, mayhap no’. ‘Tis been a hectic few days.” She patted my arm. “Get some rest, laddie. The gods ken, everything looks better with some rest.”

I did manage to sleep, although I missed holding Myra. The fact that I tossed and turned, wondering at Nan’s words, didn’t help either.

Bright and early the next morning, I was waiting to escort Nan back to Mkaalad’s home. She didn’t say anything further to give me a hint about what she’d meant, and I didn’t ask. I was too anxious to see Myra again.

She looked exhausted when she opened the door, but she smiled tiredly at Nan. When she switched her gaze to me, I saw her drop her eyes and smelled her embarrassment.

I wanted to take her in my arms, to yell to the world that this was my female, my Mate. But she made no move to acknowledge me, so I clasped my hands behind my back and glowered.

As the women converged on Avaleen and the bairn in bed, discussing the changes of the night, Mkaalad sidled up to me.

“Yer female has been pushing herself all night.”

I grunted in agreement, and only then realized what he’d said. I sent him a sharp glance, and his lips curled into a tired smile.

“We heard ye call her dkaar , Vartok, and yer eyes are glowing fiercely.”

“Mayhap I’m angry.”

“Ye are angry,” he shot back with a shrug. “Because ye havenae claimed her fully, aye?”

I wasn’t going to answer him. Wasn’t going to give him details of my love life. So I went back to scowling at the females across the cottage.

“Myra needs rest, cousin.” His tone had gone oddly formal. “Yesterday ye allowed her to rest in yer home. Will ye allow it again?”

“Aye, of course.” I shot him an irritated glance. “’Tis why I’m still standing here. She’ll work herself to death if someone doesnae force her to stop.”

“So ye’re saying ye’re here to drag her to yer bed?” Mkaalad’s lips twitched.

And I, normally the irreverent one in any conversation, gave up trying to maintain propriety .

“Aye,” I sighed. “And do what I must to ensure she falls into a deep sleep.”

Snorting, my cousin slapped me on my back.

“Such a sacrifice ye make for yer clan. Have her back tonight, aye? Amma, Nan and I will be here throughout the day to care for Avaleen.”

I took in Mkaalad’s tired eyes, the way his shoulders drooped.

“And ye? Will ye rest?”

“I’ve been sleeping where I can. Avaleen was the true warrior, laboring through the night. Her strength isnae back, and…”

When he trailed off and looked away, I frowned.

“What is it?”

He shrugged. “I dinnae see how she can possibly recover. The bairn… Even Nan agrees the lassie was large. Avaleen is bleeding.”

“Bleeding is normal, is it no’?” I hazarded.

Mkaalad’s grin looked forced. “Aye, ‘tis. There’s naught to worry about, for certes. My Mate is getting the best care possible, between Myra and Nan.”

“Aye,” I agreed. But as I collected an exhausted Myra and led her back to my cottage, I couldn’t help worry about the way my normally cheerful cousin had seemed uncertain.

I tucked Myra into bed and went to my forge to finish work on her mother’s knife. I never had taken the time to measure her hands, but now all I had to do was remember the way she’d gripped my cock to know their size .

Working a forge with a cockstand is fooking inconvenient, in case you’re wondering.

I prepared a meal for my Mate that afternoon, and when she woke—comfortable, sated and refreshed—I fed her. Then I stripped us both of our clothing, climbed into bed with her, and taught her three more ways to reach climax.

“This time, when ye come, pet, ye’re going to scream my name.”

“But—” she’d panted, rocking atop me, her palms flattened on my chest. “People will hear…”

“Aye, they will, just like every other time.” I’d reached up to tug on her nipples, causing her to moan. “’Tis the point. Ye’re mine , Myra. My innocent little human plaything. Aye?”

“Aye, Vartok.”

And she screamed it again when she found her release.

And again, I spilled against her skin, rather than deep in her cunny.

I could see her mind working behind that satiated smile as she trailed her finger through the thick seed coating her stomach. When she licked it off her fingers, I groaned and pulled her to me again, my mouth finding her cunny and making her scream in ecstasy again.

I missed her that night.

And again the third night.

It had become a pattern, for her to sleep in my bed during the day then sit up with her niece while her sister slept.

But by the fourth day after wee Ella’s birth, I guessed something was wrong.

Myra was distracted and worried, Mkaalad was unusually somber, even when he held his daughter, and Nan didn’t speak at all.

I tucked Myra into bed then went to prepare for the council meeting.

‘Twas the meeting when the clan would join us and air grievances and concerns.

I was only half-thinking of what needed to be discussed—Auld Klorbkal was sure to bring up the Battleborn threat again, and I would have to find a way to tell him nay again—because my mind and heart were tucked in beside my Mate.

Who didn’t know she was my Mate.

The meeting began in late afternoon with discussion of plans for planting and shearing. The longer the debates went on, the more I wished I was in my forge. Give me a hammer and a piece of metal any day! I hated this blathering on.

Then, halfway through a debate on the best trading partners for wool, I caught a familiar scent.

I stood with my arms crossed, leaning against one of the supports in the back of the Hall, while most of the council sat around the fire or were spread on the benches with their families.

As I watched, a group of women hurried to sit on the back row of the benches on the other side of the fire.

Myra’s eyes met mine over the flames, and I could see the worry in them.

The wool discussion went on longer than it needed, but I couldn’t stop staring at my Mate, feeling her tension—feeling the tension from everyone I loved.

Finally, during a lull in the debate, a voice rang out .

“I have a concern.”

The clan turned to watch Nan—looking older than usual, or mayhap just tired—limping toward the Council Hall. I held up a hand to forestall any other discussion.

“What is it, Nan?”

With a sigh, she stopped near the fire and glanced about, meeting the eyes of each person, but lingering on me.

“I need more sea holly.”

An herb? She’d come to the council about an herb ? I slowly straightened.

“Explain, please.”

Another sigh. “Avaleen isnae…” Her gray head shook mournfully. “She is no’ recovering properly.”

The worried whispers that went through the clan were echoed by the tightening in my stomach.

“In what way?” I asked what we were all thinking.

“Her bleeding is strong, stronger than I’ve seen. The bairn was large.”

Across the fire, Myra shot to her feet. Her hands were gripped together, but with her straight shoulders and lifted chin, I guessed I was the only one who saw her fear. Aye, to the rest of the world, she must have seemed strong and confident.

She was good at showing what she thought needed to be seen.

To everyone but me. I saw the truth .

“Nan,” she said calmly. “We are dosing her with yarrow tea and the shepherd’s purse concoction, aye? Her bleeding will slow.”